From Across The Bay Ch. 02

'You live in a very posh house.' Jossy said, using her flirtiest purr.

'Thank you,' said a foreign accent on the other end, a local Italian by the sound of it. 'I renovate it myself.'

Jossy put the binoculars to her eyes again and the man by the villa waved, phone to his ear.

'She's for sale, if you're interested'

With all its white stucco and tall chimneys, it looked too much like a wedding cake for her liking, but she did not want to be rude. 'Why would anyone want to sell such a beautiful house?'

'Maybe I can make something more beautiful somewhere else. Why do you not come over and see for yourself?'

'I couldn't possibly do that, I'm terribly busy.' She flirted.

'You do not look terribly busy.'

'We'll see. Gotta go now, ciao,' she said, ringing off.

Before she placed the binoculars down on the table she glimpsed that he did not put down his. She disappeared indoors with a smile, closing the door behind her. Flirting was so much fun.

She slipped off her top, launching it onto the bed in an arching trajectory across the light flooding in through the picture window that had betrayed her earlier. She remembered now that she had changed into her underwear in the bathroom and only then come out into the main room, so she knew that at least he hadn't seen her naked, not yet.

She sent her shorts on a similar trajectory and then her underwear followed. It felt good to have a man hanging on her every move again, despite the man being all the way over on the other side of the bay. She resisted the urge to peep and see if he was still looking. Of course he was still looking

Ducking down Jossy retrieved her swimming costume from the chest of drawers and squeezed into the tight fabric. It was black and she knew she looked good in it. She reappeared into the main room with a bottle of sun cream and squeezed the smooth liquid into her palm, rubbing it slowly between her hands before applying it to her face and neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the intermittent glint of his binoculars, like a subconscious SOS.

She rubbed the remains of the cream into her arms before putting one leg up on the bed and squeezing more cream into her hands, rubbing them together again, slower this time. She could imagine him, all the way over there watching her; anticipating where her hands would go next; wishing they were his hands. She felt desirable and enjoyed the reawakening of that feeling.

Jossy started at the ankle and worked her way up to the knee before starting on the other leg. As she bent over, she was aware of the elastic edges of her costume shifting to reveal more flesh. She squeezed out more cream before rubbing her hands up her thighs, enjoying the slow firm pressure of her palms on the inside of her legs. Now it was her turn to imagine what it would be like to have his hands doing this. Not far above her fingers, a muscle gave a flutter at the thought.

On impulse, she ran a finger inside the fabric of her costume, brushing her pubic hair and making her shiver. She was glad he was all the way over on the other side of the bay. The anticipation was exquisite, something that she would have shattered without a moment's hesitation if he had been here in the room.

She stood, her finger still beneath the fabric and made a show of adjusting her costume. Her engagement ring remained firmly in the draw, safe, and forgotten.

Stepping back out of his view, Jossy went to the bathroom to apply some make up, confident that he would be there watching that empty window for a long time yet. Jossy had big eyes and big hands. Subsequently it was only eye makeup that she applied before she strolled nonchalantly back out into the sunlight, winding her way between the unmoving bodies on the beach, to the sea. The water lapped at her, chilling the flesh as she walked further and further out. As it lapped against the place where she had imagined the man's hands, she began swimming, heading for the other side of the bay, and the glint that still flashed from the villa.

She emerged from the Mediterranean Sea shimmering with adrenaline and teased her way up the winding steps to the top of the cliff, where orange trees encircled the villa. She wondered what sort of reception she would get from the man. He must have realised by now that she was coming over. The heavy olive-wood door to the villa was ajar and one of the pieces of card had a message added to it. *Come straight through the house to the garden (I knew you'd come).*

She considered spiting herself to make him regret adding that last bit to his message, but instead walked straight through the cool corridor in the middle of the house onto a freshly painted veranda at the rear, where she found a small pile of clothes and another note. *You can leave your costume here. I have pens if we want to talk.*

She hesitated, it was funny, but this little piece of wet fabric made her feel confident and sexy, lifting and minimising all the right places. Without her costume, it was just her. But she had not swum across the bay to retreat now, so she slipped off her suit and stepped onto the close cut grass. The garden was a mist of roses and ripe oranges, the scent wafting around her. Ripe as they were, she left the oranges alone – she was after different fruit.

Rose petals brushed against her as she wound her way through them, to find him in a secluded sun trap, lying naked on the grass, like the prize in the centre of a maze.

'Hi.' He said with a smile. 'I thought you said you weren't coming.'