I always thought I’d love those flowy wrap-around skirts. They look good in store windows and on television shows. That was until I had to wrestle one in a stiff breeze. This sarongish looking contraption had been wrapped around my head twice already today, both times attracting giggles from bystanders and amused offers of help from Jason. His hand on my side, steadying me as I got my clothing under control, had been electric and not just a little distracting. The only solution I’d found was to plunk my ass down on the beach with the filmy thing wrapped tightly around my legs and tucked safely under my behind as a cushion. I felt a bit like a beached mermaid, but at least I wasn’t flashing anyone. And it was a beautiful place to sit and sketch.

Unfortunately, it was the fourth beautiful beach this week, and I had run out of ways to make them look special and different. I’d given up on this location almost as soon as we’d gotten here, the Hawaiian ads were going to have to be all about the lava beds we were visiting this afternoon. But for now, despite the wind, the sun on my back felt like a gentle massage…and I was happy to stay where I was, imagining away. My hands idly sketched random images as my mind travelled along much more defined pathways.

Phantom hands stroked across my back, warm palms rubbing outward from my spine then down along my sides. They stopped at my waist for a moment before pressing down across my hips. I stretched my shoulders as the hands retraced their path upward, sliding under my shirt, making me shiver where they “contacted” skin, pulling my top up as they travelled. My sketching slowed as those imaginary hands moved along my ribs and across my stomach…. I could nearly feel Jason’s chin on my shoulder, his chest against my back. I was so deep in the daydream that I even smelled his cologne. Those wandering hands moved up to cup my breasts, I felt my heart speeding up and my breath catch slightly, my arms crossed across my body just beneath my tits, pressing them together slightly, gently shadowing my imaginary sensations. I wanted his fingers to flick up and across my nipples, brushing them, stroking them, maybe pinching them a little, making them rock hard and extra sensitive…and sure enough, that’s what they became. The hands in my mind moved up, squeezing, becoming gently greedy, pulling me back against the body behind me. That was when I overbalanced, reacting to a pressure that didn’t exist, and had to reach back and catch myself before I fell. My eyes popped open and saw Jason kneeling in front of me, waving a hand slowly across my sight line. Apparently, I really HAD smelled his cologne.

So, of course, I kept my cool and winked at him. OK, actually….I screamed and dumped my pencil box off my lap. What, you expected me to do something suave?

Jason laughed…. and I couldn’t say that I blamed him much. He dropped down on the sand beside me as I recollected my scattered tools. “I think you’ve found the sunniest spot on the beach,” he offered, laying back full length on the sand, tipping his head back to maximize basking potential. Suddenly pencils seemed unimportant. I was obsessed with the thought of rolling over, moving onto him, laying my body full length on top of his, letting gravity press me against him. I had definite ideas about how the skin of his throat would taste as I kissed it….I even included the slightly gritty texture of the sand that stuck to him just there at the side. I wanted one of his hands on my waist to balance me and keep me perched atop him, the other would be stroking my ass through this ridiculous skirt. With my legs all tangled I’d need help to move the way I wanted to, I’d need his hands on my hips to press me against him, to rock my body against his swelling cock. One of those hands had found the edge of this skirt and was working its way in through the folds as I ground my hips against him in slow circles when reality intruded.

“Melissa, these are amazing.”

“Huh?” I respond, not at my quickest when I’m wishing for 10 minutes alone with a vibrator. When the fog cleared from my eyes, I saw Jason lying on his side flipping through one of my sketchbooks. Oh SHIT. See, there are sketches I elaborate into submissions for work. And then there are the other 80%. Things I just draw when my mind’s wandering…. and considering where my mind had been wandering to…. no this wasn’t good. “Those aren’t…. aren’t for…”

“No, I get it…. these aren’t design proposals, just ideas,” he interrupts as he flips through more pages. “But they’re really good. And I always wondered what our kids….,” he turning that pad sideways, “what Brian and Kim get up to when the public’s not looking. Gotta say I like the look of it.” What they get up to? I was fairly sure there was anything outright pornographic in there. Just fairly sure, though….and fairly sure wasn’t enough to keep the blush from my face. It was entirely possible that my subconscious had snuck something past me.

Jason’s low whistle had me worried, and we narrowly avoided bumping heads as I jerked forward to see what he’d stopped on. Thank god, they had their clothes on. But his shirt was undone, she had her hand tucked inside it, pressed against his stomach, mostly out of site. One of his hands was tangled in her hair, her head tipped back, eyes closed, lost in the moment. Definitely not something you’d find in Better Homes and Gardens. It was the moment before everything, before anything, when no-one knows what comes next and it’s all possible. “You capture some intense heat here, Melissa. I hadn’t realized how much you were toning it down in the things you showed me before.” Jason flipped the pad closed. “Would it be ok if I borrowed these? I’ve been, I don’t know, running low on ideas. I think that if we’re going to have to use these two to sell a dozen mostly identical resorts, we’re going to have to change our approach. This could be a way to go.” Jason glanced back down at the pad, “well, maybe not quite as steamy as some of these…but I think we could use some to sell the story line when our locations are weak. Do you mind?”

I have to admit, I was paying very close attention to the way his arms, his shoulders, his chest moved as he played with my notebook. But at least this time, I knew what I was agreeing to when I nodded. At least I thought I did.