Abel woke up around nine and went downstairs for his usual morning swim. He was wearing a pair of trunks this time, which wasn’t his usual practice, but with Summer in the house he was going to have to make a few adjustments. It didn’t matter that she’d surely seen him stroking himself the night before. As he swam a few laps, he wondered what she’d think if she knew what had been running through his mind at the peak of his careless indulgence.

He swam much longer than usual, avoiding going inside and having to face her. It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed. Yesterday had been a shock for her, and now that she was stranded with him, he didn’t want her to feel any more like a prisoner than she already did.

He finally pushed himself out of the water, toweled himself dry in a hurry, and went into the kitchen where he found her in the midst of figuring out the coffee machine. She was wearing the T-shirt she must have slept in. Barefoot. Her legs tapered up to the hem like a pair of saplings. When she turned around and made direct eye contact just below his face, whatever lingering doubt he might’ve had that she’d seen him last night was eradicated. She wasn’t much on eye contact to begin with, but now she was looking anywhere and everywhere but his face.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“I think I have it sorted, thank you," She cleared her throat. "You’re nearly out of dark roast so I went for medium.”

Abel was already regretting coming back inside. Maybe he could have stayed in the pool all day. Being in such close proximity to her felt dangerous. There was too much going on in his head. He wanted to do so many things that his mind didn’t even know where to begin wandering. She’d turned back to the coffee machine and he stared helplessly at her bare legs, following up from her ankles to the hem of his white t-shirt. Was she even wearing anything underneath? He wanted to believe she wasn’t and had half a mind to tell her to reach for something on a high shelf just to find out.

“Whatever you like is fine. Just help yourself to anything,” he said, although he was still thinking about her skin. He went to the refrigerator and retrieved a small carton of cream. He brought it to the table and sat.

Summer turned her back to the counter, leaning against it with one leg crossed in front of the other. She folded her arms just below her breasts and looked off to the side, still avoiding his face. Her reticence to look at him had him even more convinced she’d seen him by the pool the night before. Despite her near total avoidance of eye contact, she wasn’t running away screaming. Then again, where else did she have to go?

Abel searched inside himself for a shred of conscience that felt wrong about her seeing him, but he couldn’t find one. The thought made his skin prickle and his mind went back those few hours.

He was throbbing now. The scent of Summer fresh from her shower was redolent in his mind. The way she’d tilted her head to look through his clothes for something to sleep in. He was thinking of the way his shirt would drape over her body, and the way his hands would lift the hem as he slipped them underneath and ran his palms up her torso to her breasts. He imagined hearing her gasp the way she did when something in his novel took her by surprise.

She was everything Cheri wasn’t. Everything everyone who knew him never imagined him wanting. She was everything that made him ache to be who he was beneath all the trappings.

“Summer,” he groaned, only to himself. “Summer, oh fuck, Summer.”

Suddenly there was the sound of her window sliding shut. She had to have seen him there like a lonely boy jacking himself into a dream of something he could never have. The notion made his cock throb with a need that buckled his knees. He arched his spine to compensate for the loss of balance. Then cum began arcing from his shaft in dizzying jolts of pleasure. He pounded his spuming cock like a man who hated himself. Spending himself. Spending his cum on a mirage.

“Here you go.”

“Huh?” Abel was jarred from his reverie when Summer set a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He looked up and caught her eye for the first time that morning. She hesitated a moment, then suddenly looked away again. She seemed to be momentarily confused as to whether she should sit across the table from him or retreat back to the counter.

She retreated.

“I hope you slept well,” Abel said.

“The moment my head touched the pillow.” 

She looked down and off to the side, her cheeks flushed red.

***

Summer stood in the closet, the door ajar. She could hear the sound of Abel in the shower and knowing he'd be in there for a while gave her time to reset. She could barely look at him. She didn't know what she'd expected to achieve by mindlessly gazing at him the previous night but it felt as though she'd turned the awkwardness up to a maximum volume level.

She sighed. Her fingertips brushed past suits neatly hung up on one end of the closet. Then shirts. She pulled out the sleeve of one, wondering if he'd mind her wearing it. The whole situation felt surreal but she was very much aware that she was an unexpected and most probably unwanted guest and she wanted to be as little trouble to him as possible.

She felt impossible. She couldn't even drink a cup of coffee in his presence. Then again, his presence had been half naked. She rolled her eyes at herself. Get it together. They'd be stuck together for the foreseeable future and she had to make it work. He hadn't done anything wrong. He'd been perfect. She had to get herself together and pretend everything was fine until it felt that way for real. It was her only option. 

Besides, she had a boyfriend. The fact didn’t do much to shift her morals. Brady. Somewhere in the three years they’d been together, everything had shifted. He didn’t make her happy anymore. He made her feel like she was constantly trying to be something that he liked and no matter how hard she tried she always fell short. Maybe her shortcomings explained his late nights out and all the other nagging suspicions that always flickered inside her. She’d been meaning to confront him for weeks but there was always something in the way and every time she thought she could speak up, she was afraid to, not knowing how he’d react.

Pulling a button down shirt from the closet,  she held it up against herself. It'd be long enough. But she still needed underwear. The thought of being around Abel with none on was outrageous. She yanked open drawers until she found boxer shorts and despite not wanting to be a demanding houseguest, she was relieved to see a few unopened boxes. She took a brand new pair with the shirt and retreated to her room.

***

Abel got out of the shower and toweled off. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, he went back into his bedroom to find something to wear. He discovered that Summer must be wearing his boxers and it made him smile to wonder what she’d look like in his underwear. He couldn’t tell what else she might have chosen. He was curious, but he’d just have to wait and see.

Before he had a chance to dress, he heard the shower start running again. He listened a moment, then walked to the door and pressed his face against it. He didn’t know what he expected to hear. Maybe he just wanted to think of the water running over her body. Her hands, slick with foam. Touching everything.

He went back to his bed where he’d left a clean pair of boxers and pulled them on. He didn’t need to be lurking at the bathroom door until he drove himself out of his mind with another hard on. Then he pulled on a pair of grey, linen shorts and a T shirt and went downstairs to check her notes from the day before.

She joined him in the study a short while later and it was a relief to fall back into their usual routine. The awkwardness slowly retreated, paling into insignificance against their shared goal of working on his novel. They worked together efficiently and after addressing her suggestions he largely left her to her own devices, only speaking to answer any of her questions. 

She was wearing a plain, light blue button down shirt of his, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It made her arms look even more slender and delicate than usual. He was torn between just looking at her and trying to gauge her response to the novel. 

His phone kept buzzing in the pocket of his shorts and he tore his eyes off Summer to finally check it. Cheri. Again. Her texts were getting more and more irritating and the obviousness of them made him roll his eyes. Couldn't she take a hint? As if to answer his question, the phone began buzzing with an incoming call. His instinct was to decline it but at the last moment he changed his mind and hit accept.

"Abel," Cheri's voice had that wheedling tone it always did when she wanted something. "I miss you."

Abel glanced at Summer and moved the few metres into the kitchen.

"Really?" he said.

There was a pause.

"Yes, really," Cheri said, undeterred. "I need to see you. I need to touch you. You know it's better with you than anyone else."

"Cheri, we decided to stop. It was the best thing to do." Abel opened the refrigerator and examined the contents before closing it again. He wondered what Summer would like to eat for lunch.

"We always decide that," Cheri laughed. "But baby, you know how it is … we get together and can't keep away. That's us."

Abel didn't respond but she continued nonetheless.

"Did you like the picture I sent you? I was thinking of you the whole time." Her voice dropped. "God, I think of you every time I'm naked. Every time I'm turning myself on."

"That's nice," Abel said, noncommittally. Whatever she’d said hadn’t registered. He opened the store cupboard. Rice. Pasta. Lentils. 

"Nice?" Cheri's tone became frosty. "Nice?"

"Nice," Abel repeated.

She let out a huff of distaste. "Fine. Fuck you, Abel."

And she hung up.

Abel hoped it'd be the last he'd hear from her, but based on past experience he doubted he'd be so lucky. He was glad there were so many miles between them - he didn't think he could have survived being stuck with her indefinitely.

He shoved his phone back into the pocket of his shorts and thanked the universe for giving him Summer.

***

The days passed easily enough. The two of them settled into a cautious routine, working together on and off throughout the day. During the evening they'd usually eat outside before going their separate ways. She often stayed in the study late, reading various novels from his bookcase. He'd have been more than content to sit and watch her but he figured she wouldn't appreciate it so generally tried to make himself scarce. 

He felt like he was on his best behaviour all the time in his own home. Only when he was sure she wouldn't notice did he allow himself to stare without restraint, his whole body feeling the urge to be closer to her.

He wanted to fuck her more than anything. He didn't know how long he'd be able to handle it. Every morning she'd be dressed in his clothes - in his underwear for fuck's sake - and despite the increasing number of nudes Cheri kept messaging him with, there was only one person he wanted to gaze at for eternity. Even fully dressed she was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

***

It was a Friday - a week since she'd first stayed and the sun had been out all day, so much so that they'd even spent half the morning trying to work outside while soaking up the rays. It'd been a bad idea - they'd barely got anything done but Summer didn't regret it. 

Evening had set in now but it was still hot, the air heavy out by the pool. She'd brought a book outside after dinner and once she'd started reading, it seemed impossible to stop. It felt essential to escape reality some days; the repetitive routines and unresolved feelings felt like they'd drive her insane. Books were the perfect break from life. Besides, it had been a long day. They'd reached a contentious part of Abel's novel and he seemed to question every one of her suggestions more defensively than before. Every time she thought she'd figured him out he added a new twist. 

Brady had been texting too, guilt-tripping her for not being there for his birthday the next day though she’d explained countless times how impossible it was to get home. He’d responded by posting an Instagram picture of himself with a girl she'd never seen before, the two of them laughing, his arm around some stranger, the photo somehow both laughable and heartbreaking. Summer had stared at it long enough for her eyes to well up and though she'd done her best to try and forget it, her mind had felt all over the place since.

Until now. She turned a page in the book she was reading, engrossed in the characters' lives. It was so easy to fall into the pages. By the time she finally set the novel down, the night had fully set in. She sighed. A forgotten bottle of wine and half full glass were on the table next to her. 

Getting up to go inside seemed like too much effort. She stretched her limbs and wondered if Abel had already gone to sleep. She'd lain awake hot and bothered for enough nights to know he usually turned in at around eleven and when she checked her phone it was already half past. She sighed again and shifted in her seat.

Somehow she’d adapted to life with him more easily than expected. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. It was simply the way it was. Maybe it had something to do with wearing his clothes every day. By the time she decided she should get out and buy a few outfits to get by in, all the shopping centres had closed down. Only essential businesses were allowed to stay open and even then the public were advised to visit them as infrequently as possible.

But wearing his clothes made him feel closer. It was a bit like touching each other by default. Day after day he got messages from the notorious, Hollywood actress that always seemed to leave him aggravated. Summer had a hard time reconciling the man who’d so easily taken her in during a crisis with the one who’d appeared in the tabloids coming and going from parties with Cheri West. It made her wonder what sort of voracious tastes he indulged. The notion brought on a quiver of fear that blended much too naturally with her deepening curiosity.

She reached for her wine and drained it like a glass of water. The alcohol went down like comfort even as it turned the thoughts going through her mind into a whirlpool of questions. How could anyone live in this infernal climate, for one thing? Why hadn’t he made a move on her? Would she welcome it like air or recoil in horror? Maybe she wasn't his type. Maybe he needed someone as brash and bombastic as Cheri to make his pulse race.

She refilled her glass and heaved a deep sigh. She was who she was. No more, no less. And perhaps Abel Edwards was scared of that. Perhaps deep down he was like so many men - just a boy sorely frightened of peeling through all the outer layers of success and fame to discover a creature too average and simple for the world he inhabited.

Then again, perhaps the wine was doing a number on her brain.

Probably. She almost laughed at herself. She stretched out her legs and sighed, examining them under the glow of the lights. Her feet were bare. She didn't want to move. Ever. Didn't want to go home. Didn't want to do anything. Didn't want responsibilities. Didn't want to make decisions. 

She was too hot again. Every night she'd struggle to sleep, but truth be told, it wasn't always the heat that kept her up. It was thoughts of him. Too many thoughts. Inappropriate and invasive. Her body always felt aroused, wound too tight to relax and yet she never dared to release the tension. He slept in the next room, too close, too dangerous.

But she wasn't inside now. She was free. Nobody but herself. Summer's hand pushed between her legs, pressing against herself through the cotton boxer shorts. The friction felt achingly good. She pushed her hair back and tried to relax. Her other hand moved beneath her shirt and found her breast, feeling the weight of it.

It felt so good she wanted to purr. Her legs moved apart a little as her hand went inside the boxers and touched her smooth skin. She felt hot. Too hot. The shirt was already sticking to her a little but she didn't quite dare take it off in case by some crazy chance he might come outside. She contented herself with just touching, feeling herself grow wet against her stroking fingers.

She tried to keep her breathing steady as her body came alive. Her teeth bit her lip hard to stifle a moan.

"Fuck," she whispered. It'd been too long. Everything had become too intense. Her hips moved automatically, trying to increase the pressure of her fingers as she lost herself to the moment. 

***

Abel was pacing his room. He felt like a fool leaving Summer on her own by the pool on such a beautifully tepid night. She made him feel like a cartoon, like the most ridiculous version of himself. Maybe he was better off in that same old emotional gutter with Cheri. She of the vulture pussy tattoo. She reigned queen over his most self-destructive devils. Next to Summer, the devils were just as numerous and just as demanding. Possibly even more so. Summer was a woman he could ruin, right along with his career. But Cheri, she’d been ruined years before. It was what gave them the illusion of compatibility.

In the time he’d spent with Summer, he’d started to realize that no one was made of any one thing alone. That devils and angels lived together in everyone. It was like that Native American folktale about the two wolves inside us, the good and the bad, and the one you become is the one you feed. But you had to feed them both because there was nothing worse than starving devils and angels. You had to feed them both enough to fight the other and never win or lose.

Then the sound of trickling and a whimper drew Abel to his window. Summer was sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. She had one hand down inside the boxers she’d taken from his room, and the other was unbuttoning his shirt.

Summer, it seemed, had decided to feed the devils tonight.

Abel watched intently, fondling his cock through a pair of boxers matching the ones she had on while the shirt gradually opened to expose her breasts. The way she fondled them and twisted at her nipples made him believe the devils inside her were as hungry and lonely as the ones inside him. He followed the urgent, digging motion of the other hand inside her boxers. Her entire body seemed to be centered on the grind of her fingers.

His cock was growing rapidly under his groping hand, stretching the fabric containing it. He finally shoved his hand down inside his boxers to grip the hardening shaft inside. The sight of Summer felt like a soft explosion inside him. She struck him like one of those rare orchids that only flowered in the dark, yet the blossom wasn’t letting itself open all the way. Half dressed. Half undressed. Like her feet only dipped in the water when her entire body needed to submerge.

“Geezus, fuck,” he muttered, squeezing the shaft of his cock with intense force. He needed her. He knew she could feed his devils and angels the way no one else could. Cheri. All the others like her. They only threatened to suck them dry.

Even as he turned to stalk out of his room and down the stairs, Abel was afraid he could ruin everything else. But they were on the same path, if even just for this moment, and the night was all about devouring anything that got in the way.

His cock swaggered painfully within his boxers as he strode out of the rear doorway onto the terrace tiles surrounding the pool. Summer’s eyes were closed, her head thrown back as he approached the opposite side of the pool. He walked up to the edge and shoved his boxers off, standing back upright with a fully swollen cock jutting out before him. He took a snug hold of his shaft and stroked, watching the grinding search of her hand under her boxers and the ardent play of the other over her breasts.

Listening to her whimpering gasps, he knew she was something delicate yet indestructible. He also knew he could never really have her. Nothing so fine or elegant would survive under the weight of his love. But the most craven of his devils reached out to her.

“Summer,” he said.

She opened her eyes and gasped in horror. Abel gazed at her from across the pool, his hand skimming the length of his throbbing cock. She looked at him like the worst thing that ever crossed her path, but her eyes inevitably drifted toward his cock. His fist. The slow, bold motion of his hand.

Her own hands were frozen now. The one inside her boxers, the other in a stone clench over a naked breast.

“I…” she started.

“Summer,” he repeated. “Just take off the shirt.”

“I don’t think…”

“If you’re going to play slut-girl in my pool, then do it right. Do it the way you do your work, like a bird of prey.”

He almost winced at the reference, thinking of Cheri’s new tattoo. And he realized that was the whole difference between them - Cheri got the tattoo because it helped her believe she was something she could never really be. Summer. Oh, Summer. Summer was a natural bird of prey, even if she didn’t realize it.

A river doesn’t have to work at being a river. It simply flows.

She sat up a little straighter, casting a look across the pool, then shrugging her free arm out of the sleeve. The other hand slowly came out from her boxers and she pushed off the other sleeve, leaving her naked from the waist up. She brought her arms across her breasts and looked at him, sitting there in nothing but a pair of men's underwear.

With his stiff cock aching like mad, Abel held his hands protectively over his shaft and jumped into the water, then sliced across the pool to where Summer was sitting. He broke the surface and pushed himself up and out on the side to stand over her. Water cascaded off his body while his cock stood between them like a dirty secret. Summer’s head turned, her eyes focused on the strutting shaft in front of her face. Abel wrapped his hand around the shank and slowly stroked.

“The boxers, Summer. Those too,” he said.

“But…”

“Take them off. They’re not even yours, are they? So take. Them. Off.”

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered. But she pulled her feet out of the water and turned her body, leaving her back to Abel. Then she lifted her ass and pulled the boxers down her slender legs. “Fine,” she said. “Here’s your precious underwear.” Then she tossed them into the pool.

The smile that came across Abel’s face felt like it started in his balls. He wished she could see it, but it was gone by the time he walked around her. She was too naked now to cover everything all at once. She tried for a moment, but then gave up and leaned back on her hands, her breasts pushed out insolently. Her thighs half parted, revealing a hint of that smooth, silken slit between them.

Abel groaned, stroking his cock close to her face. Her eyes were sparkling and wide. “Lie back and spread for me, Summer. I promise you’re safe with me, but fucking spread for me now.”

She looked up at his face a moment. It was clear from the watery glint in her eyes that no one had ever spoken to her that way before.

“I can’t,” she said.

“You can. It’s really quite simple.”

“But…”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

She looked at his cock a moment longer, then lifted her eyes to his face while she leaned all the way back. There was nowhere for the right leg to go but into the water. The left bent out to the side, bringing the petals of her pussy into stark view. Abel stared down at the juncture between her open thighs and felt the breath heaving in and out of his body on its own. The shape of her plum-smooth mound struck him as something that couldn’t exist anywhere else in nature but between her thighs. She didn’t bother trying to cover her breasts now, but she placed a hand over her pussy, covering her slit, concealing the way she was lacquered and glistening.

Abel felt his cock pulse inside the voracious grip of his fist. He caught the slightest motion of her fingers against her sex lips.

“Stroke it, Summer,” he said. “Rub that pussy like you mean it. Otherwise put your men’s underwear back on and go to bed.”

Her mouth opened as if she were going to speak, but nothing came out.

“Show me how you feed that devil when you’re alone in the dark,” he went on. “Show me the way you caress yourself. The way you wish the men who come and go would touch you but never do.”

“I don’t wish … “

“Everyone wishes.”

She turned her head to the side, facing across the pool toward the house. Abel felt it. She was drawing a curtain to hide him, yet her fingers began moving, stroking, raking. A soft whimper escaped her lips while she ground her hand in ardent circles against her slash. She bit her bottom lip briefly and moaned, then brought her fingers to her swollen pearl, mashing against it so desperately it seemed painful.

Abel knelt beside her and grabbed her wrist. She turned her head toward him now, a mixture of confusion and fear on her face. “Don’t be in such a rush. Are you so anxious to have this over with? Now you’ve made me touch you after I promised you’d be safe. Listen and don’t make me do it again.”

He let go of her wrist and stood back up. Then he continued stroking his cock as he watched her massage her clit more slowly. Almost gently. Her face turned away again. He sensed there were a few dozen things she wanted to say, but her body was beginning to arch with tension.

“Easy, Summer,” he reminded her. “Show me so I’ll remember.”

One long, slender finger drew something like an infinity symbol around her clit and down over her lips. The break came when she dipped her finger up inside her hole briefly and brought it back to her clit.

“Lift your ass off the ground,” he told her. “Like you’re fucking whoever he is in your mind right now.”

“No...that’s…”

“Don’t think. Do.”

And she did. She only had a real purchase against the ground on one side, but she managed to lift her ass off the ground enough to raise her pussy that much closer to him. He groaned, stroking hard as he watched her fingers work their way back to the furious pace he’d denied her before. It was becoming a strain to measure his voice anymore. It felt like his cock was slathered with precum. She began playing with her nipples at the same time, yanking and twisting the rigid buds more viciously than he would have dreamed. Not her. Not such an obscene night orchid as this.

Summer gave away how sensitive her nipples were as she began to gasp for air. Abel watched as she drove herself past the point of sanity.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Slap it, Summer. Slap that dripping little fuckhole.”

The garbled syllables that mixed with her heaving breath held a tone of protest, but to Abel’s astonishment, she raised her hand and slapped her pussy. Once, then twice.

“Again,” he told her. “Harder. Punish that slit.”

“N-n-noooo,” she sputtered, yet her hand lifted again and she gave her sodden pussy half a dozen clear, firm slaps.

Her jaw opened wide as she winced, then went back to rubbing her clit.

“Both hands now, Summer,” Abel said. “Take a finger and fuck that hole while you keep rubbing that clit.”

“That’s…”

“That’s obscene,” he finished for her. “And that’s exactly what you are right now. Remember. Don’t think. Do.”

Lifting her ass even higher, Summer brought the other hand between her legs and pushed her middle finger straight into her frothing hole. She pumped it while the other hand kept rolling over her clit.

“Another one,” Abel growled. “Another finger, dammit.”

With a long mewling sound rising from her throat, Summer slipped her ring finger in along with the middle one. She pumped the pair furiously in and out of her hole while assaulting her clit at the same time.

“Good girl,” he told her breathlessly. “Do you know what you look like right now?”

She gasped in reply.

“Like a slut,” he told her.

“No. No. Not. That.”

Her eyes were clenched shut.

“An exquisite, elegant slut, and you need to cum more than you need to breathe right now.”

Abel knelt down close to her, staring at her every movement. Her pounding fingers. The undulating heave of her fine body. He was straining, reaching his peak as fast as she was reaching hers.

“I - I - need - cum,” she barely managed.

“Don’t think. Do,” he growled. “Cum like a filthy little slut for me.”

“Ohhh god noooooo.”

Then her body tensed with rocking shivers as she fought for breath and went off into her own body and soul where he could barely reach her. At the same time, Abel let himself go. He punished his cock shaft with his unrelenting fist until jets of cum were jolting through his shaft and leaving him dazed.

He sat back on his haunches, watching Summer slowly come back to herself. By the time they could look at each other again, they both noticed at the same time that most of Abel’s cum had landed across her thighs.

He expected her to say something about it, but she was looking through him to some point in the distance far behind him. He decided not to apologize and lowered himself back into the pool, leaning with his head back against the edge. His eyes closed. A moment later, he heard the sound of Summer lowering herself into the water beside him. Their shoulders touched, and then he could feel her hand wrapping onto his under the water. He turned his palm and their fingers laced.

It felt like the night kept going without them, leaving them behind, stuck in the moment.