The sun had just set, and I was in the Olympic-size pool in the backyard. Gilbert had brought me drinks and snacks on a tray, so I snacked while I splashed around. The sun faded, but it was still warm. The lights from his gardens came on at the moment the sun set, and I could see the acres of his property that looked like a public park. My arms rested on the edge of the pool, and I stared at the view, unable to believe I lived in such an estate. The only experience I had with places like this was in the movies, and even then, they paled next to the real thing.

Footsteps sounded on the deck behind me, and the fact that I could hear them at all told me it wasn’t Gilbert. He moved like a ghost, providing pristine service without being seen or heard. He faded into the background the second his job was complete, like a shadow.

I turned around to see Fender there, stripped down to his nakedness. From my angle below, he looked like a living statue stepping into the pool to join me. He was so cut and so strong that every movement he made caused a ripple effect to the rest of his body.

He moved into the heated water, his pecs and shoulders above the waterline. He headed straight for me, his eyes dark like espresso beans on the counter at the café. Every time I’d looked at that jar, I would think of him, remember the way he looked at me.

My chin was just above the waterline, and when he came to me, he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist. His hands held on to my ass even though I didn’t need the support, and now that we were at eye level, we stared.

Quiet as a mouse, Gilbert brought another tray of drinks and snacks for Fender then excused himself back to the house.

Fender didn’t look away from me, as if he didn’t notice or care.

Gilbert and I had never really talked again. He wasn’t rude to me, but what little friendship we’d had was forever severed. It was strange to think that the butler was more stubborn than his master.

I’d never had a relationship with a man that required no conversation. Fender and I spoke with our touches and our looks. When two people were as close as we were, it was unnecessary to fill the silence with words. We just existed in the same moment—and that was enough.

He guided me against the wall of the pool then slipped his fingers underneath my bottoms and found my clit. With his eyes on me, he rubbed me in a circular motion, his pressure growing harder and harder.

My arms wrapped around his neck, and I breathed in his face, climaxing against his fingers within a few minutes.