The sun-baked towel is warm against my stomach, and the sound of the waves is a soft rhythm in the background. My eyes, though, are fixed on you as you return, two Margaritas in hand. Your gaze is locked on the stranger's hands on my back, and the full, tempting curve of my breasts, exposed in the sun. A slow, knowing smile spreads across my lips.

The salt breeze carries the scent of coconut sunscreen and the distant smell of the ocean. You can see the sand between my spread toes as I shift slightly, giving the man behind me a better view. The stranger's fingers brush the edge of my bikini bottom, just enough to be noticeable from where you stand frozen with those drinks.

A group of college students laugh loudly as they pass, their voices momentarily drowning out the tension. My fingers trail up the stranger's arm, leaving a trail of water from my刚刚 dipped hand, and I bite my lower lip while maintaining eye contact with you over his shoulder.