Under the Desert Sun

The setting sun glinted off the surface of the pool, the aquamarine waters contrasting sharply with the red sandstone of the Arizona landscape. Potted palm trees swayed in an invisible breeze, caressing the ground with their fronds. An adobe wall stretched upwards towards a roof covered in terracotta tiles. Glorious, bronzed, rich beings lounged on pillowed chaises positioned around the pool speaking in murmurs to each other.
Robert Carmichael hated these water-side soirées, but business required it. Business was the high and mighty owner of the pool, the spacious mansion next to the pool, and the land on which the pool and the mansion stood: Daniel Soto. Robert had been obligated by his firm to watch over the wealthy twenty-five year old and his money. The mere thought of this insult to Robert's education made his anger boil. He spent years getting a law degree for this?
He brushed his hand through his hair, willing the fury to subside. A flash of sunglass shades caught his eye. Across the pool, latte-colored legs stretched on plump cushions, sat Diana Soto, Dan's younger sister. Robert was surprised he hadn't noticed her sitting there earlier for she was very difficult to ignore: a petite figure with supple curves embraced by a modest white bikini. Her black shoulder-length hair framed a round face graced by brown, almond-shaped eyes, a small nose, and a dazzling smile. And he could swear that smile was aimed at him.
Mind away from the distraction, Robert chastised himself. He got up from the lounge chair and walked over to his somewhat busy client. "Dan, I'm going to get myself something to drink. Do you want anything?" Not surprisingly, there was no response. It was, after all, hard to speak when one has his mind and other things wrapped around a voluptuous blonde.
"May I help you find the kitchen?"
Robert was too awestruck by the white-clad siren in front of him to do anything other than follow her into the house.

Diana had always had a fascination with older men. Not the wrinkly type, mind you, but the rugged, confident type. That's what she had seen in Robbie. She admired his intelligence, and she didn't mind his looks either. He was tall and lean, with hazel eyes. He had wavy, dark brown hair and a rear that was all too much fun to look at. Now put said rear into swimming trunks that were shorter than average, and you have the reason why Diana couldn't resist coming to his aid.
She sashayed into the kitchen, hearing his foot steps behind her, and perched on one of the bar stools.
"I'm feeling partial to a margarita," he said when he finally regained his ability to speak.
"Tequila's in the top cabinet," she smiled at him, happy to have him right where she wanted him: under her control.
"This one?"
"Yes."
He placed a bottle on the counter. "Do you have any limes?"
"In the fridge."
"And ice?" he asked his head in the refrigerator as he contemplated whether or not he would be able to find a decent cocktail shaker.
"I'll get some," was her reply as she slid past him, making sure her hand brushed across his rear.

Robert knew he hadn't imagined that. He gazed at her back as she walked towards a cooler, her hips swaying, and got out a bag of ice. Good God, was the girl flirting with him? Yes, yes she was. Well, he'll just have to put an end to the indecency. After all, it wouldn't do to have relations with his client's sister. His eyes met hers as she placed the ice on a nearby countertop. Time to set things straight. "Cut the limes," he said brusquely, handing her a knife that he was lucky enough to find.
"You want the drink, you make it," Diana retorted, the corners of her mouth tilted up coquettishly.
"And I thought you were going to help me."
"You've got everything you need for a margarita, don't you?"
"A little assistance in the preparation of this concoction would be most helpful," he motioned at the fruit.
She gave in, and reached for a lime. "Fine, then I get a fair share of the proceeds."
"Contributing to the delinquency of a minor," he grinned, despite of himself. "I can live with that."
"I'm nineteen, mister, not exactly an innocent," Diana replied, her eyebrow quirked in an insinuating manner. She smiled and turned towards the counter, busying her hands.
Robert stood behind her, considering how easily she made him forget his resolution to be nothing but professional, admiring the way that her hair had fallen over her shoulder, exposing the column of her neck. The heat had caused a mist of moisture to form on her soft skin. As of its own will, his hand dipped into the ice-bag to retrieve a cold cube. He took a step towards her, taking in the scent of her. She smelled like something tropical, like monoi oil and gardenias. He lifted his hand, the drops from the ice making a trail down his arm. He traced the cube down her neck, hearing her surprised gasp and the clatter of the knife against the counter.

Shivers ran down Diana's spine and her breath quickened. Cold water ran down her back in a thin stream as the ice moved downward: down past her shoulder, past her shoulder blades, down, vanishing at the small of her back. An arm snaked around her waist.
"Robbie," she murmured, feeling him nuzzling her neck.
One large hand was splayed over her bare stomach the other hovered at her hip. She twisted in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her eyes locked with his and gravitation took over.

Robert brushed his lips across hers, looking at her face to gauge her reply. Hearing no protest, he closed his eyes and deepened the kiss. His tongue parted her lips and tangled with her own. He felt her bare stomach pressed against his torso, her hands moving in small circles over his upper back. Breaking the kiss he moved his lips to her jaw, feathering small kisses as he moved towards her neck and down to the collarbone. He felt rather than heard her murmur his name, the sensation causing him to stop and look up at her. Her eyes were glossed over with passion and her lips were parted as she panted for breath. At that moment he surrendered to her small hands, to the spontaneous connection that had sparked between them in the small room. He moved his hands to her waist and lifted her up onto the counter.

Diana shivered in response to the cold tile of the counter against the back of her thighs. She had never even considered the possibility of such an encounter. Yes, she had dreamed and lusted and hoped, but she never thought her fantasies would be realized. And this is so much better than the fantasies, the thought passed through her lust-clouded mind as she wrapped her legs around Robbie's waist, pressing her torso warmly to his and her lips against his tauntingly curved mouth. She felt his hands artfully unravel the fastenings of her top, she felt the scrap of white material slide down her body and to the floor, she felt one of his hands glide across her skin to cup her breast. A warm shiver passed through her as he rubbed his thumb over the peak. And suddenly he stopped.
Robert stood facing her, her limbs still wrapped around him, and tried to force down the bit of conscience that was clawing through the delirious haze of his mind. He tried to recall the last conscious decision he made and seemed to remember that it had to do with alcohol. How did she do it? How had she caused all his thoughts of propriety and decency to dissipate in a haze of lust? He studied the temptress in front of him, her breath fanning over swollen lips in short pants, and slowly drew away.
"You stopped," Diana stated simply as she watched him disentangle himself from her embrace and step away. "Why the hell did you stop?"
He simply averted her eyes from her half-naked body and reached down to pick up her bikini top. "Here."
She crumpled the proffered garment into a ball and folded her arms across her chest, her eyes flashing with frustration and slowly fading desire. "What is your goddamn problem?"
"This isn't a very good idea," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to quell his nerves.
"You're right. This isn't a very good idea. This is an amazingly brilliant idea which would have resulted in higher levels of mind blowing brilliancy if you hadn't stopped."
He laughed wearily. "Momentary bliss doesn't make up for subsequent eternal hell."
"En ingles, por favor," Diana drawled.
"I work for your brother."
"He doesn't have to know."
"I will."
"I would rather hope so."
"Damn it, Diana!" His exasperation was evident in the hard look he gave her. "This was nice, but I can't do it. What if anyone was to find out? I wouldn’t be able to get another respectable job for as long as I live."
"Is this what this is about? I might become an impediment to your otherwise assured success?" Diana shouted across the short distance between them. "Mister, I am not what stopped you from getting a position better than your current post. Don’t give me that look. We both know that you’re nothing more than Dan’s keeper. But hell! Your damn decision." She jumped down from the counter, her arms folded tightly against her chest. Flashing Robert one more look, she strode out of the kitchen and into the depths of her brother's mansion.
Robert stared at the tequila bottle standing on the counter and decided that it wouldn't be such a bad idea if he had some. Pouring himself a shot, he walked through the patio door, the last sunrays of the day hitting his eyes.