More Than Enough (Patreon)

The water was warm, steam rising into the cool mountain air. The wooden deck stretched around the hot spring, a quiet, secluded retreat nestled between towering peaks.

And she was waiting.

The moment I stepped outside, she turned, piercing green eyes locking onto mine like she had been expecting me.

“You took your time,” she said, tilting her head slightly, her damp, freckled skin glistening under the soft light. Her muscles—massive, carved from strength beyond reason—shifted subtly as she adjusted herself in the water.

I swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I—uh, I didn’t know if—”

She smirked. “If you should come out here?”

I nodded, my pulse hammering in my throat.

Her expression softened, but there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “Sweetheart, you were being very obvious the way you were staring at me in the lobby.”

Heat rushed to my face, but before I could stammer out an excuse, she leaned back, stretching her thick arms across the edge of the spring. Every muscle tensed, just for a second, as if she wanted me to watch.

And I did.

“Is that your wife with you?” she asked casually. “The blonde in the silk dress?”

My stomach tightened. “She—uh—yeah.”

She chuckled. “Oh, don’t look so nervous. She was staring too.”

I blinked. “What?”

Her smirk widened. “You think I don’t notice these things?” She gestured with one hand, smooth and deliberate. “People always stare. But you two?” Her gaze flickered with amusement. “That was different.”

I exhaled, my mind spinning.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the ledge, her biceps flexing against the rough stone. “I’ve got an idea,” she murmured. “Why don’t you go get her?”

I stared at her, unsure if I had heard correctly. “What?”

She smiled, slow and knowing. “I said… go get her.” She tilted her head, voice warm but firm. “It takes more than one person to satisfy me, after all.”

My breath caught.

She watched me carefully, waiting for my reaction, and when I didn’t immediately run for the exit, her smirk turned into something softer.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I’ll be gentle.”

And somehow, that promise was the most dangerous part of all.