She's a Work of Art

Kristo

I grabbed my swimming stuff and headed down to the pool, my body craving the cool water despite my exhaustion from the trip. Making my way into the locker room, I was glad to see the place was quiet enough. I guessed the hotel was nearly booked out for the gala that evening, and everyone else would be getting ready to rub elbows and schmooze their asses off. I should have been to, but I needed a minute to myself first, just to get my head in order.

When I came out into the pool area, I inhaled the scent of chlorine, let the warmth of the room coddle me, and at once started to feel better. Slipping below the water, I did a couple of laps before I noticed I wasn’t the only person in the area.

She was sitting on a lounge chair set ten feet from the edge of the pool, reclined like the model in some Renaissance work of art. She was holding a book—I couldn’t make out the title, but there was a watercolor image on the front—and sipping on a cocktail, wearing a one-piece suit that was cut low at the front to show off her generous cleavage. There was no part of her that wasn’t a curve, from the soft inward slope of her waist to her thick thighs to the way her dark hair lay in soft waves across one side of her chest.

 She lifted the cocktail to her mouth and wrapped her lips around the straw, not taking her eyes off the book, and the way she chased the straw around the glass with her tongue sent a zing straight to my dick. I paused for a moment, seeing if she would notice me, but she didn’t look up from the pages. I shrugged to myself and kept on swimming, enjoying the view when I came up for air, and let my mind linger on what I would do if she did happen to look in my direction. Maybe she would be at the gala that evening. She certainly looked as though she belonged at an event like that one.

I wasn’t sure how long I was swimming there, but it was long enough that by the time I came to a halt to catch my breath on the far side of the pool, the clock told me it was only twenty minutes till the gala started, and I needed to get my ass in gear. I pulled myself up and out of the pool, heading for a quick shower, and when I looked over at the spot where that woman had been sitting, I found it empty but for the glass she had been drinking from. Man, I wouldn’t have minded buying her a drink – or two.

Getting ready as quickly as I could, I dressed in the fresh-laundered suit I’d picked out for the evening and headed downstairs to the room where the gala was taking place. By the time I arrived, the room was thronging with noise and people, the buzz of the chatter rising above the crowd and filling the enormous space. I took a deep breath and dug down deep inside to find my game face. I could do this. When I had stepped up after Dad’s retirement to take over the company, I’d known this shit was a part of the job, and I was good at it when I actually tried.

“Kristo!”

I turned when I heard someone call out my name. I found myself facing Neil Grayson, a friendly rival of my father from way back.

“Good to see you here.” He thrust his hand out to me, and I shook it and then waved down a passing waiter for a drink. If I was going to be here, then I was going to take advantage of the free booze that likely cost as much as the jewelry dripping off every woman in the place.

“Good to see you, too, Neil,” I replied coolly. Before I could stop it, I was caught up in a conversation about how business was going for him. He introduced me to a friend of his, an up-and-comer here in Vegas, and I realized tonight could actually be useful if I just kept my mind open and talked to whoever I could. Or maybe that was just the champagne loosening me up a little.

“Give me a minute.” I held my hand up to duck out of the conversation with Neil and the newcomer, my drink dry. “I’m going to grab another glass.”

When I turned, I found myself looking straight at the woman who had been at the pool earlier. There was no doubt in my mind that it was her. I would have recognized that body anywhere, even if it was now poured into a deep green velvet dress instead of a swimsuit. Her hair was pulled over to one side, the waves shiny and soft in the dim light of the room.

She spoke with someone I didn’t recognize, her face lit up and animated, a glass of champagne in her hand as she tossed her head back and burst out laughing at something they’d said. The dress was cut so low, it looked like someone had just cut a “V” out the front to show off her perfect cleavage.

I wanted to trace the lines of her with my fingers, but then I remembered where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I reluctantly pulled my gaze away from her and back to the waiter with the champagne.

The night had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting now. Maybe I could buy her that drink… or something gentlemanly like that.