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Bitter Pill -- Act 2, Scene 3 by Vanessa Steve stretched, luxuriating in the feeling of the hot sun against his skin. He was stretched out on the chaise lounge that had been calling for him ever since they arrived, and /damn/ did it feel good. He had carefully sunscreened up -- sunburns were definitely not his thing -- and was looking forward to a long day of doing nothing. A tall glass of lemonade rested on the intricately-tiled patio within reach of his lanky hand (it was still too early for liquor -- who was he, Brian?) and he gave his mind free reign to wander to whichever inconsequential frivolity it wanted. Like why the lemonade here was uncarbonated, while the stuff back home was nice and bubbly. Not that he hadn't noticed before, what with touring the world and all, but it was hard to get over expectations ingrained since childhood. He opened his eyes as he reached for said lemonade, and immediately noticed the woman across the pool. Or rather, he noticed her breasts, which seemed to be torn with indecsion over whether they wanted to remain neatly inside her shiny lime-green bikini top or not. Steve's eyes moved of their own accord down her body, across her tanned stomach and navel -- which was adorned with a jeweled ring matching her bathing suit -- and down her hips and the tight curve of her thigh. Before they could continue, his larger brain reasserted its control and jerked them away, down to the safer-but-less- interesting glass of lemonade at his side. 'Idiot,' the angel in his head chided him, 'you shouldn't be doing that!' 'Why?' the smaller brain asked impudently. With exasperation: 'Don't you remember?' Oh. Right. Stef. The most beautiful person in the world. Waves of guilt crashed over him suddenly. Anything with this woman would be tantamount to cheating on Stef, the person he loved with all his heart. And body, he noticed, feeling a slight blush creep across his cheeks as he shifted in his chaise to try to make that fact a little less noticeable. 'Geez, Hewitt,' scolded the devil in his swim trunks, 'you'd think that you still had something with him.' 'Don't I?' he asked himself wistfully. Realization struck again, as intensely as before. 'I don't. I really don't. Shit. "We can't do this," he said. Guess what that means, dumbass, you have nothing with him. Not anymore. Not ever again.' 'So go back to that chick. What you need is some good sex. Some good /straight/ sex. Believe me, I think I'm the local expert on this.' Steve closed his eyes. 'Holy shit, I'm arguing with myself. With my dick. And its talking back. And winning. I think I'm finally cracking up! It must have been all that acid, back in the day...' He sighed. 'Damn, it's getting hot up here. I think it's time to go for a swim.' He got to his feet and quickly jumped in the pool, surprised at just how cold it felt against his sun-heated skin. He swam a quick lap, his muscled arms pulling him quickly through the water. When he got to the end of the deep end, he hooked his arms over the edge of the pool and absently treaded water as he found his eyes roving back to the woman in the green bikini. Who was currently running her hands all over her body... Steve's eyes dropped to follow her hands, and he noticed the bottle of sunscreen. 'Oh,' he laughed, at the same time accusing himself of being a perv. Steve's eyes nearly popped out of his head at what happened next though. 'Oh my god, she's not. She's NOT. She is! Holy shit!' Sure enough, she had reached behind her neck to untie her top and was pulling it off. Steve was treated to a tantalizing glimpse of a firm, rounded breast, capped with a large dark nipple before the woman rolled onto her stomach to sun her back. It was a few moments before he snapped out of his impression of a deer in the headlights, and he managed to ratchet his jaw back up into the "closed" position. 'I have GOT to get me some of that,' his two brains agreed, all thoughts of Stef totally abandoned. Several hours later, Steve was once again relaxing on the chaise lounge, only this time the drink at hand was a pina colada, decorated with a cute little pink paper umbrella. Or rather the glass was decorated, as all the alcoholic content was occupying Steve's stomach. He noted the fact with distaste as he reached for the glass, and reluctantly got to his feet to go get another. He was halfway to the bar when the unthinkable happened: the woman approached him. "Excuse me," she began demurely, "have you got the time?" "Uhhhhh..." Steve managed to get through unresponsive lips as he struggled to reroute his bloodflow to his northern brain. He looked down, trying desperately to remember which wrist his watch was on. He found it, eventually. "Its, uh... one thirty." "Thanks," she beamed a smile at him. "Are you British?" she asked shyly, almost like a schoolgirl. Steve grinned back. He still had no idea why women seemed to like British men so much, but if it was working in his favour, well, why knock it? "From Manchester, yeah," he replied, leaning forward slightly as she replied with something trite and shallow. Trip to the bar temporarily forgotten, Steve let himself slip into conversation with the woman, who introduced herself as Karen. "So, do you work out?" Karen leaned in and placed a hand on Steve's muscular arm. The two had been conversing for over an hour, and Steve's world had shrunk to the point of Karen being the only other person in it. "Actually," he started, a little shyly, "I'm a drummer." "Oooh, really?" she enthused. "Are you in a band?" "Yeah, I am." "Is your band famous?" "Well, in some places. Maybe you've heard of us? We're called Placebo." Karen pursed her lips in thought, then as recognition flashed in her eyes they twisted into a momentary scowl of disgust before returning to a vapid smile. "Hmm, I don't think I have, sorry." 'Liar,' Steve snorted to himself. The brief flicker across her face had told him she was one of the group who didn't care for them, but she was too polite to come out and say it. "Well keep an ear open for us," he said genially, not letting on, "I think we're releasing a new single soon." "I will," Karen said in a less-than-promising tone. "In the mean time, though, I have to go meet someone in town--" 'Yeah right,' Steve muttered inwardly. "-- but maybe I'll see you around sometime later. Nice meeting you, Steve." With that, she got up and left, leaving Steve to watch her barely-covered backside swing as she walked further and further away from him. "Well shit," he said as he got to his feet and headed off for the bar, in serious need of a stiff drink. Prev | Next Home |