What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [83]
Given that she hardly needed to drink a whole carafe, Jenna said, “Want some? I even have an extra cup.” The bartender at the main pool had given her two, in case one blew away in the breeze.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind. It looks delish.”
Jenna widened her eyes as she filled the other cup. “You haven’t had any erotic rum punch yet? It’s great—I can’t seem to stop drinking it and will probably be five pounds heavier by the time I get home.”
Chrissy gave her a quick perusal and said, “With pretty curves like yours, five pounds won’t hurt—you’ll still look totally hot.”
“Thanks,” Jenna said softly, flattered but—even after her experiences here—not used to having girls compliment her body in a sexual way. When she stood to pass Chrissy’s cup down to her, that’s when she noticed the other girl’s tattoo—a white and yellow daisy in the small of her back, just above her small pink bikini bottoms. She’d never seen a tattoo look at once so innocent yet sexy, and she thought it suited Chrissy well. “Nice tattoo,” she said. Though she’d never felt much one way or the other about them, this one appealed to her.
Chrissy smiled over her shoulder. “Thanks. A gift I bought myself for passing the bar.”
“You’re a lawyer?” She didn’t look like a lawyer. She looked like a swimsuit model.
Chrissy nodded easily. “Don’t let the friendly exterior fool you—I’m a tiger in the courtroom.”
“I’m impressed,” Jenna said, leaning back in her chair, and—mmm, the sun felt incredible on her skin. There was something special about the privacy here—even in the presence of someone she’d just met, she felt completely at ease. She stretched out, even lifting her arms up over her head.
And when she glanced back to Chrissy, she almost got the impression her new friend was taking in her body—again. “Oh, come on—I’m sure you do something equally impressive and fabulous.” Then she added, with a laugh, “You’d have to, to afford this place.”
“Actually,” Jenna informed her, “I won the trip in a contest.”
“Wow—lucky girl.”
“As for being impressive and fabulous, you’ll have to be the judge. I write historical biographies for a living.”
Chrissy gave her head a speculative tilt. “So you’re an author?” she asked to clarify.
Jenna nodded. “But don’t let the occupation fool you. I’m doing well, but I’m not living in a mansion or driving a Mercedes just yet.”
Chrissy shrugged. “Still sounds pretty fabulous.” Then she kicked up her feet, splashing lightly in the water, and leaned her head back. “Mmm, this is so nice.”
“Is the water warm?”
“Just right,” Chrissy assured her. Then she patted the grassy spot next to her towel. “You should join me.”
Okay, so this wasn’t going to be a quiet or introspective sort of afternoon. Jenna hadn’t really planned on chatting, but she liked Chrissy and decided it could be nice to just . . . hang out with another girl for a while. In fact, it might be enlightening to get to know another guest—she’d hardly spoken to anyone here besides employees. The guests tended to keep to themselves or the people they’d come with, and she’d actually been very glad to discover it worked that way—but given her curiosity about the sort of person who paid to come here, and that Chrissy wasn’t what she might have expected, maybe this would be interesting.
So Jenna moved her towel, smoothing it out next to Chrissy’s.
And as she sat down beside her, Chrissy said, “I just have to tell you—that’s a rockin’ bikini. Your tits look amazing in it.”
Jenna tried to ignore the blush warming her cheeks and hoped Chrissy wouldn’t see it. Maybe it made sense that girls who paid to come to the Hotel Erotique were more comfortable talking openly about bodies than she usually was—so she would try to go with the flow. “Well, thanks. I was actually admiring yours, too.” She punctuated the remark by dipping her feet in the water—the perfect temperature, as promised.
“My bikini or my tits?” Chrissy asked on a laugh.
Jenna caught her breath, but still tried to act as cool as she wanted to be. “Well, I meant