When we reached the deck at the top of the stairs, I took Bette’s hand as we walked past the pool. She didn’t appear to have any opposition to my doing so. In fact, she turned to me and smiled before speaking softly, “You realize, of course, that every time you touch me, even simply holding my hand, it throws me into a fever pitch.”

“And is that a good thing?” I asked, turning to look at her.

“Indeed, I think it may be a very good thing,” Bette replied, stopping and leaning in for a fiery kiss.

I pulled back and said, “I could push you into the pool to cool you off, you know?”

“Oh, could you now?” Bette jeered playfully.

“I believe I could,” I grinned.

“And why would you want to do that?” Bette inquired, thoroughly enjoying herself.

I turned to face her squarely. We stood about two feet from the pool with her back to the water. “Because then,” I said, pushing my hands against her shoulders and knocking her off balance, “I could strip you out of your wet clothes and wrap you in a bathrobe.”

Bette reached to grab my arm to regain her balance.

Steadying herself, she said, shocked at my antics, but still smiling, “And again, I ask, why would you want to do that?” Bette skillfully grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. Now, my back was to the pool. She smiled cunningly. “Besides, I think you’re the one who needs to be cooled off.”

“Bette, don’t! Please!” I begged.

“Why? You don’t want me to strip you out of your wet clothes and wrap you in a bathrobe?” she asked with a grin. Bette pushed her hands against my shoulders, but gently, mocking my earlier gesture. “I think you’d look exceptionally sexy, naked under a bathrobe,” she said inching deviously close to me. “But it wouldn’t be quite as titillating as the actual process of disrobing you.”

“Which was my point,” I admitted, before adding, “And a robe makes access so much easier.”

“I thought those were your considerations,” Bette said confidently.

With rapidity, I glanced over my shoulder to see how close I was to the edge of the pool. Just a few inches, I judged. I turned back around, and quickly and tightly clasped both of Bette’s arms just below her elbows.

“You never answered my question, Bette,” I said, trying to catch her off guard.

“What question was that?” she asked, trying to remember.

I still had my hands wrapped tightly around her forearms. The few moments she pondered gave me just enough time to achieve the leverage to propel her with me. I took one step back and purposely fell into the deep end of the pool. The water swallowed us as it drowned Bette’s shriek.

I surfaced first and waited for Bette to come up for air. When she did, I swam up to her and pinned her against the wall. The waves lapped around us.

“Damn it, Helena!“ she laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck. God, she looked beautiful, so wet and surprised. I embraced her lips with mine, and pulled her closer with one hand on her face and the other clasped behind her head. When I tried to pull away to speak, she enticed me back with the point of her tongue dancing, rolling, and flicking against mine.

I managed to pull my lips from hers. But Bette nuzzled her face into my neck and licked wildly.

“So are you going to answer my question?” I asked, squirming with pleasure.

Pulling me back to lick my ear, she inquired back, “Mmm. Which was?”

“The one I asked you on the beach, before all this got started. Are you hungry?” I reminded, still holding her closely.

“Oh, that one,” Bette replied. She moved her head back and rolled her eyes upwards, feigning deliberation, and sliding her hands beneath my shoulders. Finally, she announced, “I do believe I’m famished. And in need of a bathrobe. As are you.” She smiled and, under the water, stroked her thumbs, over sheer wet fabric, against my nipples.

“Our little plunge didn’t do a thing to cool us off, did it?” I observed, before kissing her again.

“Mmm,” Bette moaned, licking and sucking my mouth and tongue breathlessly. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

When we eventually climbed out of the pool, soaked in our waterlogged clothes, I led Bette to the changing room, just inside the house, off the deck.

We stood dripping all over the tile flooring. “Bette, there are towels on the shelf and a clean bathrobe hanging behind this door,” I said, opening it. “I’ll take care of your wet clothes when I get back.”

I gave Bette a quick kiss on her lips.

“Where are you going?” Bette asked, grinning.

“Why, to change into my robe, of course,” I smiled slyly, as I turned to make my way to my room.

****************

I’d had a head start on Helena to peel off my wet clothes. But I’d also sat on the shut toilet seat for a long time, with my head in my hands, pondering everything that was happening. It shouldn’t have surprised me when, just as I finished tying the belt on my bathrobe, I heard a faint knocking on the changing room door that announced Helena’s return.

Emerging from behind the door, I found Helena wrapped in a fuchsia colored, silk robe holding her wet clothes in her arms.

“Hi,” I smiled.

“Hi,” Helena said, smiling back. “Get your wet clothing and I’ll wash and dry it for us,” she instructed.

“You know how to wash and dry clothes?