It's Hot In Here (2 page)

I'm flapping around on the floor like a fish out of water. I'm too sweaty to even get back on my feet. I see Dylan look up at my dad. He must be in severe shock because he just stares at him with his jaw hanging wide open.

I look up and try to give my dad the most innocent look I can muster, but he's just staring at me like I was some kind of alien.

He looks at Dylan, then down at me, then at Dylan's
thing
, and I can see his mind falling apart.

I finally get to my feet and immediately I throw my arms around him and begin to cry uncontrollably. I'm babbling something about how we thought we were going to die, and the humidity was choking us and we couldn't breath and we took off our clothes to try to help our circulation. My dad pulls me out of the room and now I'm standing there naked for the whole resort to see. Thankfully, there's no one around.

While I'm rambling he's trying to find something, anything, to cover his princess up with. He finds a towel and throws it around me. He seems calmer now. I think he bought it. He's asking if I'm all right.

“
Should I call an ambulance?” he asks.

“
No, I'll be fine. Oh, daddy, I was so scared!” I don't want to lie to him, but I'm sure not going to tell him the truth!

I tell him for the fifth time I'm fine. Behind me, Dylan is standing with his hands over his groin.

“Mr Rodgers, could you find me a towel, too, please?” he asks. My dad nods and races to get another towel and hands it to Dylan. “I have never experienced such heat before,” Dylan says. He looks at me and winks, before saying to my dad, “I was scared, too. All I could think about was getting out of there.”

He's even trying to push a few tears out, but he can't do it. When my father looks away he winks at me again. I see my dad, now distracted, looking for a staff member. I shoot Dylan a dirty look. He raises his eyebrows. He's going to torture me with that grin all week, I know it.

I really can't believe this.

Little Dylan Morris saw me naked! Horrible. Just ho-rri-ble!

What was I thinking?

My dad is down with the resort manager now. I assume we'll get a pretty big discount off our stay after that screw up. We should get more than a discount. That maintenance room is a death trap.

Both Dylan and I are now fully clothed. Whatever that Force within me was, it has well and truly been driven out of me. If it comes back I'll call an exorcist. I promise you, I will never let little Dylan Morris see me naked again.

Oh, how painfully embarrassing!

He's sitting on the other end of the couch. We haven't spoken since my father . . . rescued us. I wonder what's going through Dylan's mind, and all I can see are my sweaty breasts. I cringe. Again, my breasts pop into my mind because I know they're in his at this very minute.

“
Stop it,” I say without looking up.

“
What?”

Now I look up, “You know what! Stop imagining me naked.”

He leans back and just smiles to himself. “Did I ever tell you I have a photographic memory?” he says. “Heck of a useful talent to have, I must say.”

He's lying, but it doesn't make things any easier.

As I'm sitting there feeling miserable for myself, he says, “I know what's in your mind. Right now, I know exactly what your picturing. I just have to give you permission. Imagine it as much as you want.”

I could kill him. I really could. Because now, just because he said it, I've got his
thing
right in my face. Like a hologram.

All at once, our parents walk into the room. They seem in better spirits then when we saw them last.

“Really?” Dylan's dad says. “50% off our bill, that's great.”

“
He's lucky I didn't sue him.” My dad looks at me. “Feeling better, princess?”

“
Yeah, dad. And before you ask, I don't want to discuss it. It was a horrible incident that will emotionally scar me for the rest of my life, and the last thing I need to do is talk about it.”

“
Sweetie,” my mom says, “Do you really think you'll be scarred?”

I sigh really loud. “Mom! Leave me alone. It was just really embarrassing, OK?”

“All right, all right,” she replies. Now everyone is quiet. Even though my head is buried in my phone I can tell they're all looking at me. I stand up without looking around and storm out. Dylan's
thing
keeps popping into my mind and I feel like vomiting.

There it is again, the sausage monster tormenting me.

I've had a few hours to myself at the beach and I must say, I've managed to settle my nerves quite a lot. In fact, I was even able to laugh at the whole situation. I mean, it is at least a little comical. I also thank my lucky stars things ended when they did. Really, just what exactly was I planning on doing? I don't know. I'm serious, I
really
don't know. The most I've ever done was let Larry Sanders grope my butt when I made out with him last month. That was awkward, too. I've made out with a bunch of guys, but now I feel like my hormones have taken control of my body, desperate for more. But what
is
more? Of course I technically know what more is. I'm not living in a bubble. But there's a difference between knowing about what 'more' is, and actually doing 'more.'

Well, I tell myself, whatever 'more' is, I'm not going to experience it on this vacation.

But, I concede to myself, Dylan is sexy.

I cringe. I don't want to think that.
No, no, no!
Not little Dylan Morris!

I arrive back at the apartment and everyone's sitting in the lounge room. Our parents have already started with a bottle of wine and are in fine spirits. My dad walks over and puts his hand round my shoulder.

“Heck of a start to the vacation.”

I roll my eyes and pull his arm off me.

“We're going down to the bar tonight, and you guys,” my mom points to me and Dylan, “are on baby sitting duty.”

“
Mom!” I scream. “This is supposed to be my vacation, too!”

“
Oh, hush,” she says. “I just ordered pizza for you all. We'll be back in a few hours.”

I glance over at Dylan. I expect a proud look, but his smile isn't proud at all.

Oh no. I think to myself.

No, no, no!

Sexy Dylan, what did you do with goof ball Dylan from last year's vacation?

The pizza lasts about ten seconds with the four of us consuming it. Once we've polished off the last piece my sister requests we watch a Disney film. I don't have any better ideas, so I agree. The two little ones loved it. I thought it was all right, too. Dylan fell asleep half way through it. When the parents return they give me and Dylan an ear full for letting the kids stay up so late.

It's mid afternoon and we're all around the pool. The two kids are in the pool with the moms, and the dads are sitting in the shade playing cards. I'm lying on a chaise lounge starting my strict sun-baking program that I've planned for this vacation. I want to be a chocolate diva when I get back to school, and that's going to require quite a bit of sun time.

I've got on my bikini. I little red and white poke-dot number . . . and I look pretty darn hot in it, if I do say so myself. In the last twelve months I've grown a pair of melons on my chest that are quite delightful. Sometimes I lie in bed and hold them, amazed how firm they are. I don't think I even really need a bra, but I don't want to push my luck. Oh, and don't ask me what happened to my waist, but my figure is more like an hour glass than a paddle pop now. Curves? Oh yes. And my behind? Certainly no complaints there, either.

I can tell you this. When you're sixteen and these new features appear, it's pretty hard to resist
not
showing them off.

I hear Dylan plonk himself down on the lounge next to me. He's checking me out, I can sense it. “You need some cream on your back?” he asks. I don't answer him. I just hand him the cream. A few moments later I feel his hands massaging the cream into my back.

“Can I undo the strap?” he asks. Seriously, I can't believe he asked that. But at the same time, I'm quite excited he did.

“
Sure,” I say calmly, but inside I'm hysterical. He undoes my bikini strap and continues to rub the cream into my back. I lie there relishing the sensation of his hands on my naked back, and pray my dad isn't watching.

“
Now, how about the back of your legs,” he asks.

Now I look up, lean on one elbow and grab the cream with my other hand.

“Don't push it, Romeo.”

He doesn't have a quick reply. He's just staring at me and I suddenly realize why. My bikini is still undone. Between grabbing the cream and lying back down, I gave him another memory of my melons. Oh, that's just great!

“You've grown quite a lot since last year,” he says. The smart ass. “In height, I mean. What are you now, 5' 8'"?”

He's is so cheeky!

I don't answer him.

This morning the parents and the kids are off to the local fun park. They tried to force Dylan and I join them, but it was more just for show. What are we going to do at a kid's fun park?

After I insisted my parents stop thinking of me as a child, they gave up and left.

I'm not a child anymore. I'm a woman. I know my dad is having problems with that fact lately, but that's how it is. You can't fight Mother Nature. I've evolved.

Oh, by the way, I just caught Dylan checking out my evolution
again
.

“
So, we have the place to ourselves all day,” he says.

The fun park is an hour round trip, so everyone will be gone for at least 4 or 5 hours.

“To
your
self,” I reply. I'm not staying in here all day. I'm going to the pool.

I go into my room and get changed. This time I chose a different bikini. One that my father has never seen. If he did he'd burn it—
not that there's much to burn!
Gosh, I look in the mirror and have to smile at just how scandalous it is. I take my towel and wrap it around me.

When I walk out I bump straight into Dylan who's waiting in front of the door. He's body is really firm. I mean, really firm.

I jump back. “What are you doing?” I ask him. “Don't scare me like that.”

“
Hey, I just wanted to ask if I could join you at the pool.”

I'm now dying to touch him again.

“OK,” I say. “But only because I need someone to put suncream on my back.”

As soon as I turn away from him I smile. I almost laugh. This time my dad won't be watching us, and if he asks to put cream on the back of my legs, I might just let him.

“Wait up,” Dylan says. “I just need to get changed quickly.”

“
Meet me at the pool,” I say and leave.

I'm on my front sun-baking when he arrives. He looks me over. I make a pact with myself. If he says anything smart about my G-String I'm going to get straight up and leave.

He doesn't mention it, but I am sure he's staring. Who can blame him? I mean, I'm basically only wearing two shoe laces around my entire body!

Yeah, yeah, I know, I should be more modest. I agree, I
really
do. But, like I said, these new bodily developments are too delightful to keep to myself.

He leans down and picks up the cream. This time he doesn't ask if he can undo my bikini, he just does it. I say nothing. He starts rubbing my back with the suncream.

Now, he's done.

I know it.

He knows it.

But neither of us say a word when he takes another handful of cream and continues to rub it into my back.

Then silence.

“
So,” he says—I'm now waiting for him to ask about my legs—“All done.” He puts the lid back on the cream and lies on the chaise lounge next to me.

“
Not so fast,” I mumble. “You forgot my legs.”

Now I'm hot inside like I don't think I've ever been. I'm exploding! My heart is racing so fast I wonder if I might just die there and then, and he hasn't even started yet. He takes the lid off again and stands up. He lathers his hands with cream and begins on my calfs. Slowly his hands travel upward. He's up to my thighs now. He takes another handful of cream and continues to rub, and he's getting higher. I'm lying there as calm as I would be while having Sunday brunch. Nothing unusual about what's happening now. Nothing at all. Yeah right! My entire body is dancing with sensations right now.

Oh, woah—
woah!
He's right at the top of my thighs now, and I mean right at
the top!