Hot Pickle: A Best Friend's Sister Romantic Comedy Page 12

  Fuuuuck.

  I clear my throat to make sure I can form words. “I like this plan. As long as you can stand the elephant in the room.” I gesture to my turgid, blood-engorged cock.

  She nods. “Seen it before. You’re happy to see me. I get it. Now on the stool.”

  I pick up the towel and sit down, not able to take my eyes off her. I watch her reach down for a loofah, and I’m desperate for my turn.

  She walks around my body, checking the spots she knows may need work.

  “Looking good. Let’s check your thighs,” she says.

  I slide the towel away, and there’s my cock, standing straight up.

  She stares down. It jumps in response. “He is an exuberant part of you, isn’t he?”

  “He can’t resist you.”

  “May I take a look at these inner thighs?”

  “You can do anything you want with me.”

  Camryn kneels between my knees, and for a moment I almost pass out. My life flashes before my eyes.

  She widens my legs, her ponytail brushing my skin as she examines the tan.

  “I’m going to have to tend to this part by hand and then hold you aside while it dries.” She looks up at me with those lashes, and I don’t even know how I keep control. But somehow I do.

  “Sounds good.”

  She rolls her tray closer and picks up the tanning lotion. I am absolutely rapt with every motion she makes. She shakes the bottle, and her breasts jiggle. My head goes light again.

  She squeezes a bit of color on a finger. “So, here we go.”

  She presses my leg away with her elbow and cups my balls and shifts my dick to one side. I swear I’m about to lose it right there. Her hand is cool against my rather throbbing cock. I’m absolutely dying.

  She glances up at me. “He’s really engorged. If I let go, he’ll take on the color and wreck the smoothness.”

  “Do what you have to do.”

  Her fingers wrap around my cock while the heel of her hand holds my balls aside. I’m on fire. I will spontaneously combust any moment.

  I know we are way past the client relationship. She’s playing with me, and I am one-hundred percent onboard.

  I couldn’t even have made a fantasy as good as this.

  She spreads the cream along my thigh and wipes her finger on the towel.

  “Now we wait.”

  Her gaze drifts along my body. It falls on my cock, and she tilts her head, not even trying to hide that she’s looking.

  I am absolutely dead. “I’m desperate to touch you,” I say.

  She nods. “Your turn is next. You can wait for it.”

  We sit a while longer. She checks the skin, determines it to be dry enough, and lays a tissue against where she has added color.

  “Now for the other side.”

  God. I’ll never make it.

  She repeats the process. My hands itch to cup one of those breasts. I don’t even know if it’s appropriate. But here she is, mostly naked, and telling me I’ll be able to touch her soon.

  Please let it be those glorious breasts.

  The agony is intense.

  After what feels like six years, she lays another tissue against my thigh.

  “While that sets, I’ll show you one of my trouble spots.”

  She passes the loofah to me and lifts her hair. “Right here on my neck.”

  I press my fingers to her skin at last. It’s cool to my fevered touch, and I’m so overwhelmed to be near her naked body, I tremble.

  “It all feels perfect to me,” I say.

  She places her hand over mine and shifts it so my fingers graze this one spot that might be the slightest bit drier than the rest.

  She tips the moisturizing bottle to my finger and squeezes out the barest bit. “Rub it into my skin.”

  The tiny drop slides across her neck. I want to follow it with my mouth. But I do as she asks, letting the moisture seep into her pores.

  Her head turns to face me. “I always get to choose what I do to you. I’ll let you choose what you want to touch next on me.”

  “Stand up,” I tell her. “So I can decide.”

  She does as I ask, standing before me, I take in her face, the tendrils of hair coming off her temples. Her shoulders, narrow and delicate.

  And those breasts.

  I can’t resist.

  “I don’t think you tan those,” I say.

  “More moisture never hurts.” She picks up a different lotion and places a bit on my palm. “Rub them together first, then do as you wish.”

  She waits, a half-smile on her face. I rub my palms to spread the lotion. My groin is tight and swollen, almost painful. But it’s glorious, the anticipation so high for her, desperate for release.

  I lift my hands and reach out for those two perfect breasts. She leans in.

  My palms cup them, sliding across the radiant skin. Her nipples tighten, and my thumbs cross over them.

  She sucks in a breath.

  The light moisturizer gives them a glorious glow as I cover every inch. It’s cool at first, but as it sinks in, her skin becomes pliant and warm.

  I never want to stop touching her.

  Her legs waver, and I shift one hand to her hips to pull her closer. Then, I continue to knead her breasts, far beyond what is necessary to apply the lotion.

  But she stands there, her eyes closed, her breath shallow and even.

  The urge is fierce to take her nipple in my mouth. I want it with the desperation of a man leaving the desert and heading toward water.

  But that’s not part of the plan here. She’s evening the score, allowing me to touch her as she has touched me so many times.

  I will obey the rules.

  Her eyes flutter open. “Your thighs should be dry.”

  Reluctantly, I release her breasts. “What now?”

  “We’re ready for the spray,” she says.

  “We?”

  “It’s only fair,” she says. “I’ll have you spray me first, so you don’t accidentally damage yours doing mine.”

  The idea that my fantasy is about to come true causes a bit of pre-come to slip from the tip of my cock.

  “You trust me not to destroy your perfect skin?”

  “I’ll give you the lightest color. It won’t hurt anything, even if you’re sloppy.”

  She removes the tissues, and I follow her to the tanning tent. The swimsuit bottom is a thong, and I get a glorious view of her perfect round ass as she pulls a small tank out of the cabinet. “The palest pale,” she says, and I take in everything as she bends over. God, I am hot for her.

  She hands me the wand. “The trick is to move swiftly and evenly. Neck and down.”

  She pulls the ponytail from her hair, and for a moment, it falls in a glorious cascade down her body. I have to set my jaw to maintain any semblance of control. She’s every fantasy I’ve ever had, right in front of me.

  Her breasts lift as she raises her arms and rearranges her hair into a tight bun, wrapped with the same elastic.

  “I’m ready,” she says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  She holds her arms out from her sides. I imprint this image of her in my mind. Almost naked, glorious, mine.

  I turn on the spray.

  It moves evenly across her, coating her in the glossy wet shimmer. When I get to her beautiful toes, I turn it off.

  “Now the back,” she says.

  She turns around, and this one is even harder, because she can’t see me staring at her.

  I take her in for a full minute before she turns her head and says, “Everything okay?”

  I swallow hard and say, “Sorry.”

  I spray the back of her, and she bends over as I reach her ass, allowing her cheeks to spread. My life passes before my eyes.

  I spray down both slender calves and shut it off.

  “Now you need to dry,” I say.

  She steps out of the tent and over to the fan, lifting her arms and tilting back her head.
>
  I want to be a painter, or a sculptor, something to capture this incredible beauty in front of me.

  But all I can do is set down the spray wand and stare, feasting on the vision of her.

  After several minutes, she touches a finger to her inner arm. “All good. Ready for yours?”

  I step into the tent while she switches out for a darker spray.

  When she moves in front of me, she says, “We have to do something about that. It’s more than I bargained for.”

  I glance down. My cock is rather outrageously out there.

  “It’s that bad to spray it?”

  “It won’t hurt you, but it’s not a good look when it peels.”

  I let out a long breath. “I’m way beyond the pale here.”

  “I don’t guess you’re going to be able to bring it down?”

  “Not with a naked goddess standing in front of me.”

  “Would it help if I put on some clothes?”

  “Not at this point.”

  “What would help?”

  I want to say exactly what would help, but I’m not sure we’re there yet. The last thing I want to do is scare her off. I’m ready to work over every inch of her, lick it, taste it, then plunge inside her body. Picturing it makes my head spin.

  Whoa, boy. Take it down a notch.

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  She stares at it again, tapping her finger on her cheek. I can barely take it.

  “I’m going to take care of it.”

  My throat is so tight I can barely ask, “How?”

  “You seem pretty far gone.” She steps forward, her naked, glowing body almost grazing mine. “I think it might be easy.”

  She pauses. “This isn’t about being my client. This is about where we’re headed on a personal level.”

  “I’m down with whatever you want to do.”

  Her arms reach up to clasp my shoulders. Then slowly, carefully, she presses her body against mine. My cock is trapped between us.

  I’m in heaven. Or hell. It’s a thin line because I want her so badly, but I don’t want to move too fast.

  She’s silky smooth after the lotion and the tanning spray. God. I’m so sunk.

  “Good thing my color’s light,” she says.

  “Why?”

  “It’s about to rub on you.” She slides down, every soft curve of her body slipping along mine, until her breasts surround my cock. She reaches down to hold my balls. “Nothing I haven’t touched before.”

  She looks up at me, damn, those lashes, and I clutch the sides of the tent.

  She makes her way up again, gliding along my abs. Then back down, my cock appearing again between those breasts.

  She rolls my balls in her hand, then moves up and down, sliding along the length of my dick.

  Her tits. My cock. Her naked body. Those eyes.

  She keeps moving, up and down, quickening her pace. Our bodies are slick and smooth, like silken sheets gliding against each other.

  Fuck. It’s too much.

  I unleash, spurting across those glorious breasts. When I’ve stopped groaning, she looks down with a smile. “I think we got it taken care of.”

  She steps back and for a moment I think I’ve died. She absolutely glows, the tan giving her a luminous quality, and my come is on her body.

  “Grab a towel,” she says. “I’ll clean up, and then we’ll give you the perfect tan. Problem solved.”

  I practically stagger for the stack of towels nearby. I’m completely toast. A goner.

  She was absolutely right about one thing.

  I’m one-hundred percent under her control.

  20

  Camryn

  The morning after my naked tan with Max Pickle, I lie in bed, wondering what the hell I have done.

  I went into the evening trying to even the score. I guess I should’ve known it was going to get dirty.

  Honestly, it could’ve gotten a hell of a lot dirtier.

  But I can still feel his body rubbing up and down mine.

  I felt so powerful. So in control.

  I don’t know where to go from here. We’re headed into a physical relationship. That makes sense after all those naked sessions.

  But what about the rest? Dating. Talking. Getting to know each other.

  We have the most abnormal relationship, ever. What have we done together? Six tanning sessions. Two competitions. One walk in the park.

  And of course, I guess I did go visit him at the deli that day.

  Maybe I should do that again. Strike up an ordinary conversation.

  With both of us dressed.

  I pull my phone off the side table. But instead of writing Max, I write Sofia.

  Did what you said.

  Her response is swift.

  You banged him??????

  No. Took off my clothes.

  You tanned him naked????

  I did a lot more than that, but I’m not willing to commit it to a text.

  Yes. Now I feel like I should have gotten dinner first.

  So go get dinner!

  Now?

  Go get lunch!

  She’s right. I can do that.

  Decision made, I get out of bed and hop in the shower. Maybe I’ll put on a different look today. He’s used to seeing me work.

  What is something I would never wear in a tanning session?

  The day is bright and glorious, so I choose a pale-blue sundress and wedge sandals.

  I curl my hair into spirals, which is rare for me since it’s so long and takes forever. It falls in a glorious cascade of brown and red. A tiny silver circlet holds back a few pieces and gives a romantic feel.

  It matches those messages he gave me the day I met Sofia.

  I put on more makeup, not a lot, pink gloss on my lips and a bit of blush in addition to my mega-mascara that I’m pretty sure makes him crazy.

  I wait until the lunch rush is over, and head into what I assume is a quiet time on a weekday. When I enter the deli, the two employees I recognize from the first time lean on the counter.

  “It’s her,” singsongs the one at the register, tall with a cascade of black braids falling over her shoulders.

  The man, a good foot shorter and wearing a backward baseball cap, says, “Max is in the back. You want me to take you there?”

  “You know who I am?” I ask.

  “Of course we do,” the cashier says. “You’re the reason he’s in a fog all day.”

  Really? I smooth my skirt with nervous hands. “I don’t want to disturb him if he’s busy.”

  Baseball Cap Boy shakes his head. “He’s never going to be too busy for you.”

  This is all a revelation. Has he spoken about me? How do they know?

  I hope they’ll say more, but the man comes around the counter and leads me through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  Another man is chopping onions, and farther back, a stern-looking woman loads a loaf of bread into a slicer. Neither of them pays any attention to me.

  The man knocks on a door near the back wall. “Boss man? You have a visitor.”

  “Come in.” Max’s voice is low and deep and suddenly my stomach flutters with butterflies. This is his turf, not mine.

  The man opens the door. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  Max sits in a desk chair facing a computer. His back is to the door.

  When he turns and sees me, his entire expression changes. “Camryn! What a pleasant surprise.” He hops up from his chair and closes the door.

  “I wasn’t busy today. Is this an okay time?”

  “Of course. God, you look beautiful.” He lifts a long curl from my shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “I realized this morning that our encounters have been limited. I thought maybe we could do something unrelated to tans.”

  His eyes light up. “So, it’s official? I can ask you out on a normal date?”

  “You mean one where we’re not naked?”
>
  He laughs. “This is almost as good. Sit down.” He drags another chair close to his. “Should we go somewhere tonight? Dinner? Drinks? What would you like?”

  “You’re making my point,” I say. “You don’t know anything about what I like.”

  He leans in close. “I look forward to finding out every single thing you like.”

  Heat rises in my body. “I think dinner would be good. Are you free?”

  “I’m working out with your brother after we close. It would be a late dinner.”

  “I don’t know how you’re doing it. The workouts, running a restaurant. The competitions. The tanning sessions alone are a huge chunk of time.”

  “I have a great manager. And thankfully, I don’t need a lot of sleep.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  Our gazes meet, and I have a feeling he’s thinking about last night. A flush heats my cheeks.

  “So, you’re thinking about it too,” he says.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” I say.

  “It was fucking hot,” he says. “I want to know when I get to return the favor.”

  “Soon?” I say.

  He glances around. “You know what? They don’t need me this afternoon. All my best staff is here. I’m just a figurehead.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Let’s make a day of it.”

  We head through the kitchen to the sandwich line, and Max pulls me behind the counter. The two employees from before are gone, replaced with a young blond woman.

  “Where’d Tiana and Angelo go?” Max asks.

  “Tiana is on break talking to her man in the alley,” the woman says. “Angelo went to fetch more cheese.”

  Max nods. He seems less comfortable with this worker than the others.

  I try to break the tension. “So, I get to see the behind the scenes.”

  Max smiles. “Nothing fancy here. Let’s put something together. A picnic?”

  “Sure.” I glance along the line at the various breads and sandwich fillings and sides. “Can you eat any of this?”

  “Well technically, it’s a competition week so I can have carbs. But I’ll keep it light. No bread. No pastas.”

  “But all the pickles you want, right?” I slide on the plastic glove and pick up one of the oversized dills. I wave it in his face.