#bobby hicks

It turns out you’re not supposed to fuck for 24 hours after getting one. Which plays badly with the fact Otto has now turned around and stripped his shirt off. The A.C whirs to life behind him. 

You don’t feel any cooler. 

He’s fully aware of your predicament, so you’re counting it as kindness on his part to only get down to his boxers before climbing on the bed, rather than joining you naked. You smooth his beard as he leans in to kiss you and thank any higher power that might be listening for the fact improbable is different than impossible. 

You know the man at the counter of the Diamond Motel is Norman Osborn, disgraced C.E.O of the same company that’s exiled you to a satellite office, before he even introduces himself as “Norman.” When picking the spot for your extended stay, you did a LOT of research, and in the process pieced together that after he got axed, he moved to the other side of the country and–for reasons that escape you– bought a mid-level motel. 

And if the face–sun worn but still very distinct–hadn’t confirmed it, the fact he has a dartboard in his office with an (unlabeled) picture of the Oscorp board of directors on it would have. 

What you’re less sure of, as you set the bags into which you crammed your life into the room, is why the man who helped you carry the last few up looks so familiar. He’s nearly a foot taller than you, heavyset, with the feel of a man who wouldn’t be upset if the earth cracked open and swallowed him up. Even with that aura, he’s still genial enough to help you, and to tell you that he’s just next door if you ever need him. 

It’s only as you’re unpacking your books and one falls facedown to show its author photo that you understand you’re now neighbors with Dr. Otto Octavius. Hair a little longer, bearded, and far more tired, but him all the same. 

What are the odds of that?

“Thanks for the save. Now I have a snowballs’ chance in hell of recording today instead of just laying here longing for the sweet release of death.”

“Any time.” Otto kisses your forehead, “guess I should be flattered Norman trusts me enough to repair his precious motel.”

“Hotel” you correct, mimicking the tone Norman uses whenever someone puts the Diamond in the wrong tier of roadside accommodations. 

Otto chuckles, presses closer to you in spite of the heat, “Need me to stick around? Help you film?”

“No, everything on my list today is voice-over only.” You tilt your head at the desk, your ring light and laptop both dark next to the pile of chemistry, physics, and biology reference material and notes. 

(Norman had seen the camera and light set-up and assumed you were running an OnlyFans. You know this because you overheard him asking Otto to alert him if you moved from that to having clients over, since that would be a safety concern, followed by Otto guffawing while explaining to your landlord that you were in science communication, not sex work).

“Still think their views would skyrocket if you were on camera every time.” He takes your hand, kisses his way lazily up your arm. 

“Charmer.”

It’s Otto who first calls you sunshine. You’re discussing your respective reasons for choosing the Diamond. Otto’s are that he’s on leave from UCLA, and that he couldn’t stand to be in the house he shared with his late wife, Rosie, and he knew Norman from college. He wanted to spend his leave traveling to the places they planned to see together.  You suspect that, on some level, this was as far as grief has let him go. 

You tell him how you ended up in L.A, how for the time being the extended stay is pragmatic compared to an apartment. That you chose it because it was well-reviewed, and reviewed by enough tourists to know it wasn’t a bedbug infested hellhole. And that it was out of the range of most of the likely wildfires, without anything huge to fall on it in an earthquake. 

“You’re the little ray of sunshine.” When you look annoyed he adds, “there’s nothing wrong with being pragmatic. Or expecting the worst. Makes it easier to deal with it when it comes.”

His voice and gaze drift away on those last few words. You set a hand on top of his on the table, intending a quick, reassuring squeeze. Instead he sets his other hand down to keep it there. 

You slept with him a little over a month after that. You hadn’t planned to, had assumed his grief was too fresh, your own wariness too strong, to allow it. 

Then one Sunday he brought a late breakfast to your room, courtesy of the cafe two blocks over whose “pixie dust” themed interior has seen better days. You’d talked over your sandwiches, settled in to read next to each other on the bed. At some point you nodded off, and woke up to find him laying on his side, still engrossed in his book. Gentle sunlight came through the window, highlighting the curves and lines of his face, the shine of his dark hair, and affection filled you so quickly you had to do something or else your heart was going to burst your chest and stain the walls. 

You’d said his name, and when he looked at you, you kissed him once, brief and hopeful. And then he pulled you into his arms and rolled you beneath him, eagerly returning the kiss, and you heard an orchestra swell in the distance. 

In the here and now, he’s eyeing you with fond hunger as offer another kiss to his jaw. 

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish” he murmurs as you trail a hand down his chest. 

“I won’t. There’s lots we can do, even if my cunt is out of commission. I’m a lateral thinker.”

He laughs, “I’d save that kind of dirty talk for Norman.”

You sigh, rest your head on his shoulder in spite of the heat, “I admire your optimism. At this point I’m not sure how much clearer I can make it. I even asked outright if he was interested and he dodged the question long enough to get called to fix the refrigerator in 34.”

Otto shakes his head, amused, as he kisses your cheek, “Maybe you spooked him. He’s an old-fashioned guy. Not to mention the tumble he took from Oscorp and his life here did a number on his ego and confidence. You might have to get really explicit.”

“True” you slip your fingers into the fly of his boxers, “care to test out some explicit approaches?”

His voice dips lower as he whispers in your ear, “Gladly.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were able to record from your room, but uploading to the work servers takes time and, more importantly, the strongest internet connection you can get your hands on. 

Which happens to be in Norman’s office. 

When you first moved in and had needed to use it, he’d apologized for the clutter and made some semi-distracted small talk while typing into expense sheets and booking software. 

Now he looks up the instant he hears your voice, smiles and hurriedly clears off the spare chair beside him. He’s in a muscle t-shirt, a green one. You do love him in green. He’d been wearing the same shade the day he needed the truck.

“Thanks for saving my skin.” Norman sits across from you beneath the red umbrella of the In N Out. 

“Any time.” You sip your shake, glad you opted to park and eat instead of fight your way through the drive through. You’ve put in enough hours in the truck today as it is. 

Norman knocked on your door at 6 this morning, explaining that he had to pick up replacement mini-fridges for several of the rooms, only his truck won’t start. And the guy he made a deal with to get them cheap won’t hold them for more than a day. You said he could borrow the Chevy, and that you’d come with him as some extra manpower. 

You regretted this when you learned the drive was two and a half hours one way. 

The time flew by; when Norman gets talking, he really gets talking, and he’s the kind of guy who can make both the cutthroat world of Oscorp and the mundanity of running Diamond interesting. Not to mention he wants to know everything about your work, and what research you’d been most interested in reporting on at Oscorp SF.

Your late lunch is his “thank you” for the help. You wonder if the amount of time he spent staring at your legs, shown off by black denim shorts, is included in what he's thankful for.

He’s wearing a green checkered shirt, short-sleeved, over a white tank-top. The patch of skin above his collar is distracting you as much as your legs seem to be distracting him. 

His phone buzzes and when he looks at it, he smiles. 

“Harry’s moved into his new apartment” The grin falters, “wish I could have been there to help out.”

You nudge your fries his way and he eats one, still looking at the phone. 

“Why didn’t you stay close? Nothing I found said Oscorp, like, put out a restraining order on you.”

His eyes narrow a moment, and you swear something dangerous flashes into place behind them. Then it’s gone and he sighs, “I couldn’t stand to be so close to my failure. I tried Chicago, then Denver, it didn’t feel like enough until I got out here. And, well, you know the rest”

You nod; people have all kinds of reactions to bad news, to failure. Five years ago, Norman Osborns were taking an untested drug and winding up in the hospital for two weeks while newly fired, and buying a hotel as some complex, obtuse form of self-punishment. 

“I couldn’t force Harry to come with me. To sacrifice his future, his success, because his old man had lost his marbles. Thank god Em and I had that trust set up when he was born so he could actually go to college like we planned.” He scowls at the table, “if I were still at Oscorp I’d be taking you to lunch somewhere a hell of a lot better than this.”

“If you were still at Oscorp you wouldn’t be taking me to lunch, period. C.E.Os don’t have time for mid-level outreach and education staffers.”

“I’d have made time. Taken you out somewhere incredible…”

You smirk, amused, “Do you spend a lot of time thinking about where you’d take me out?”

“Yes.” He snaps back to himself, looking up with a nonchalant smile, “Because we’re friends. Aren’t we, sunshine?”

“Of course.” You stand, making sure to take your time as you walk to the trash and back, so he can enjoy the view. What are friends for, after all, if not making each other smile?

“I used the spa certificate.” You lean over his desk to plug in your laptop, feel his eyes on you as you do. 

“I’m glad. I have to admit I was worried it was too impersonal for a birthday present.”

“It was wonderful.” You sit back down, smiling when he reclines to put his focus on you, “got a massage, a scrub, a pedicure.”

“The whole nine yards?” He looks immensely pleased with himself, glances down when you wiggle your newly teal toenails. 

“Uh huh. Wildest thing was they included a Brazilian.”

“A brazil–like, like a wax?”

“Yep” You type away, not looking at him, “not really my thing, but since it was included I figured what the hell. Otto’s kind of ambivalent about it, but apparently some guys go crazy for it.”

You sneak a glance his way; the tips of his ears are pink. 

“I’ve heard the same thing. And that they hurt.”

“Eh, I’ve had way worse.”  You continue sending files to their proper spots, and gradually Norman turns his attention back to his computer.  His typing, usually rapid and businesslike, keeps faltering. 

Once your work is done, you close your laptop and stretch, letting your crop top ride perilously high, before standing. Norman, still in his chair, looks up when you set a hand on his shoulder. In this arrangement, he’s about eye-level with your hips, and you can see him fighting to keep his attention on your face. 

“I really do appreciate you letting me use the office.”

“It’s my pleasure.” A hand settles on your hip and he thumbs your skin. His gaze drops to your stomach, and you’re certain he’s going to kiss it.

Then he lets go, clearing his throat, “You need me for anything, you just let me know.”

You smile, confused more than disappointed, “I will.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What exactly have you been doing to him?” Otto turns his phone to show you a text exchange between Norman and himself.

Osborn: Does sunshine regularly torment you?

Otto: Define “torment”

Osborn: I can’t go into details. It’s private but… talking about her body. 

Otto: She’s my girlfriend. Thinking about her body is the opposite of torment. 

“I was following your advice, and a hunch, and told Norman about” you gesture at your shorts, “Relatedly, any idea what I could break in the room that’s easy to repair?”

Otto raises a brow.

“I want to give Norman a ‘surprise’. But yesterday he was so flustered I think he might not come to my room unless he has a work reason.”

“You could just lie and say something is broken when it isn’t.” 

“....Yeah that’s a way better idea.”

Otto bends down to kiss you, “What’s the saying? Keep it simple, sunshine?”

“Something like that.” You pass him his travel mug. He’s braving his office for the first time in months, determined to start getting things ready for his return, “any idea when you’ll be done?”

He shakes his head, “No idea, especially if people see me and want to play catch up. Norman and I have a running bet on whether I’ll get more ‘how are you’ comments or comments about the beard.”

“What do you get if you win?” You scritch said beard and he closes his eyes with a happy sigh. 

“Can’t tell you. It’s a gentleman’s agreement.” He kisses you a final time before stepping into the smoggy summer air. 

(You know he and Norman aren’t fucking, at least not yet. But Norman is somehow always taking a smoke break when Otto is swimming, or finding times to stop by his room with beer he insists he can’t drink alone. And Otto gets a certain brightness in his smile whenever he talks about objects of his affection).

You pass the time with work until 6:30 at night, at which point you text Norman. 

You: Hate to say it, but the AC is out in my room again and Otto is still gone. Any chance you can fix it tonight?

Norman: Be there in about a half hour. Have to settle a noise dispute between 34 and 35.

Norman tends to be over-confident in his time estimates, but you’re ready in under thirty minutes, just in case. You shower, tap perfume behind your ear, and put on pink lipstick. 

It feels silly to do it while staying in a towel. But this is Norman.

Norman who nearly dropped his coffee the first time he saw you in that white, bat-print dress, who blushed when you turned up at the counter with a full face of make-up from filming. Norman who takes true pride into making the Diamond a decent place to live. Norman who beat you to the door when Otto’s nightmares were so bad you could hear him through the walls.

He knocks at 7:10, toolbox in hand and sunglasses hung around his neck. He’s seen you in a towel several times. This is the first where he looks away instead of gently scolding you for answering the door wearing so little.

“Settle the dispute okay?” You close the door behind him as he sets the toolbox down.

“Eventually. I’ll uh, I’ll” he keeps stammering any time he looks your way, “I’ll get this fixed up and get out of your hair.”

He doesn’t move toward the AC. So you do.

You flip the switch, letting it rumble to life. Then you take a half step into his space and kiss him. 

There’s a beat where you wonder if he’ll turn and run. Then the Norman you know reappears, looping one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders with an easy confidence. 

“So you are after me. Seemed too good to be true.” It’s practically a purr as he kisses your neck.

You laugh, “Thank god I finally got through. Jesus, Osborn, I thought I was going to have to skywrite it. Or do you think I'm the kind of girl who just goes around telling any guy I talk to about my grooming habits?”

“You’re not exactly a shrinking violet, sunshine.” He maneuvers back toward the bed, “did you really bring all that up just to tease me?

“No. Being a tease implies that I wouldn’t let you fuck me after winding you up.” You pull the towel away and lay back on the bed. 

Norman growls, honest to god growls, and then his shirt and glasses hit the floor in a pile. He crawls on top of you, kicking his shoes away in the process. His eyes dance in all directions, as if he can’t decide which part of you to focus on.  When you rub unhurriedly at your clit his attention shifts, and then he’s tracing a finger over the bare skin above it. 

“You’re something else, princess.” He kisses you, hungry and slow, then trails more kisses down your neck. 

“What was that?”

“Remember when you came back with that new, bright red dye job?”

“When those little girls thought I was Ariel?”

“That’s the one. I thought to myself well, she is kind of a princess, in her way. Elegant, regal, commanding…”

“Norman, this is me we’re talking about.” 

“Allow me my eccentricities, I’m an old man.”

“You’re not that much old-OH, oh” you sigh as sucks lovingly on one nipple, “nevermind, whatever you’re saying I’m in complete agreement as long as you do that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He kisses tenderly to the other side, tongue and lips affectionate and reverent to a heady degree. The feel of them, and of his hands running excitedly up and down your body, makes you buck against him with increasingly loud whimpers.

“Fuck me, pleaseAH!” you dig a hand into his hair as he leaves a lovebite on the left side of your chest. 

“Sweetheart, if you want me to do that you have to let me sit up.”

“Fine.” You offer a faux pout and he kisses you apologetically before standing. 

It takes him two tries to get his belt off, likely due to the fact he can’t take his eyes off you. When his jeans, socks, and briefs join the pile on the floor, you find the rest of him is just as wonderful as you hoped. He’s lean and sunworn, but you’re starting to see how he can so easily move furniture into rooms and down staircases. As he settles between your legs, you notice his cock is already perking up. It’s charmingly average in size and beautifully responsive when you run a finger up the shaft. 

“Fuck” He kisses your shoulder, “go easy on me, princess, it’s been awhile.”

“It could have been less of a while if you’d come to me sooner.” You continue lightly thumbing the head, “or was I actually being way more subtle than I thought?”

He snickers, “No. There were times when I almost asked you back to my room. But then…some part of me was almost too eager. Like it wanted me to grab you in the office, or when we were in the car, take you then and there no matter what else was going on. Feeling that out of control, it scared me. I was afraid it’d come out if I kissed you and I’d end up hurting you.”

“Well, you seem in control so far.” You stroke a hand up his face, “and if you lose it I’m not sure I’ll mind. Sometimes a girl needs it rough.”

He shudders into your touch, “Careful with that kind of talk, princess.”

You toy fondly with his hair, “i know what I  can take. I've got condoms, but only if you actually want to-”

He’s rifling through the dresser before you finish your sentence, pulling out the open box with a knowing smile. 

“Busy week?” He takes one condom, leaves the box on the table. 

“Otto seems to have gotten his sex drive back after grieving for so long. I’m helping him out.”

“Very selfless of you.” He teases. 

“He’s made it more than worth my while. What interests me now is your sex drive.” You poke his thigh playfully with your foot as he opens the packet, “or has all your energy gone into the hotel?”

“Before you arrived? Absolutely. Since you’ve been here, my mind wanders and I have to keep my hands from following it. Especially with you in my office day in and day out.”

“Why, Mr. Osborn, here I thought you were working so diligently in the office after I left. Now I think you might have been indulging yourself as soon as I was out of sight.” You spread your legs. 

He goes pink all the way down his chest, moaning softly as he pushes into you, “Only once. Or twice. After I saw you get in the pool in that black bikini I couldn’t help myself. Then there was the first time Otto took you out, you wore that halter dress and all I wanted was to flip the skirt up and fuck you. Locking the office door and seeing to it myself was the only way to get anything done.” He presses his face to your neck, groaning happily as he slowly works his hips. 

The sound he makes against your skin is comically horny. 

You “tsk” as you wrap your arms around him,  “spying on your guests. You dirty boy.”

“Do you like it when I call you that?”

He nods, so you continue moving your hips at the same leisurely pace as his, “It’s a wonder you haven’t abused having a master key, come into my room and touched yourself as I slept.” You nip his ear, “or have you?”

“No” he raises his head, looking down at you earnestly, “I want you to trust me.”

“I do.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, “and if you ever decide you do want to abuse your key, consider this your permission.”

He moans, then stills his hips, breathing shakily. 

“It’s hard to keep from cumming in ten goddamn seconds when you say those things. And I am not rushing this.”

Your nuzzle his cheek, “that's what I love about older men, you're so patient.” You grope his ass, “and thorough.”

He tilts his head up with a laugh, “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Nonsense. If I did that then I’d never get to find out how you look with your head between my le-”

A crackle of static from where the walky-talky lays on his jeans. 

“Please just be a glitch” Norman hisses through grit teeth.

“Norman? We’ve got a code 5 at the front desk.”

You’ve spent enough time around Norman to know that means two drunk guests each demanding a refund for something the other did, with a high risk of physical fight breaking out. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He looks helplessly down at you.

“I’ll be here when you get back.” You kiss his cheek, enjoy the view as he scrambles off the bed and bends to retrieve his clothes. 

“And I will be back.” He says in a hushed, assertive tone on his way out the door. His shirt is on inside out, but he’s gone before you can tell him

You lay there, AC humming as the daylight fades to sunset. Initially, you’re hopeful that the Code 5 will be quick. When you hear sirens coming into the parking lot, you sigh and resign yourself to a longer wait. 

Then again…

You pick up your phone

You: Are you back yet?

Otto: got back about 30 minutes ago. Given the noises through the wall I figured you were busy. 

That message is followed by a heart. You smile

You: I was. Then Norman had to go handle an emergency and I’m stuck here. Naked in bed. So turned on I can’t think. 

Otto: I’ll be right there.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours after he leaves, Norman returns to your room, staggering in when you tell him he can enter. You’re reading,  still naked, and Otto only managed to get his boxers back on before falling asleep. 

Norman’s eyes flick first to Otto, then to you. You’re curious if this will be too much, if the fact you’re fucking both of them is only acceptable to him in the abstract.

Otto has the most impressive doe-eyes known to man, but Norman takes a close second as he murmurs, “Am I too late?”

“Of course not.” You hold out your hand and he moves to take it, kissing it as he comes to the side of the bed, “I’m still here, aren’t I? You just got my motor running so hot I needed someone to tide me over.”

Norman looks at Otto, gaze lingering on his ass, “Glad Octavius was up to the challenge.”

“Get undressed.” You smile sweetly as you watch him comply, welcome him back between your legs with a kiss, “do you want to pick up where we left off?”

He glances down, licking his lips, “I’d been hoping for a closer look.”

“Be my guest.” You spread your legs as he eagerly kisses down your stomach, detouring to kiss your left leg all the way to the knee before switching to the right and running his lips and tongue back up it. 

There are red patches on your skin, and he kisses them gently.

“He’s too rough with you.” It’s playful, punctuated with a slow, calculated suck of your clit. 

You gasp and laugh all at once, “I mean he did go hard, because I asked him to, but I think that's just, like, what happens to bare skin when a lot of hair rubs on it.”

“S’why waxing’s silly.” Otto mumbles before rolling over and resuming his nap.

“Speak for yourself.” Norman slips two fingers into you, continues kissing and licking your clit, “been so distracted by the thought of what it must look like it’s a little embarrassing.”

“Oh?” You push strands of hair from his face for a better view. 

“I nearly fell off the ladder earlier today because I was too distracted thinking about pussy. Like I was some kid who’d never laid eyes on one.”

You’re momentarily distracted by a memory; Norman, a month ago, falling three stories from the ladder while painting part of the hotel. And walking away unharmed. You only know it happened for real because Otto was next to you, halfway to calling an ambulance as Norman stood and brushed himself off like it was nothing. 

Then a finger finds your G-spot and you forget everything but the sensation of Norman inside you, of him rubbing his cheek against the reddened skin and telling you how gorgeous you are as you cum for him. 

He gets the condom on with shocking speed, holding your legs open and pushing in with glee. 

“Fuck” he grunts, “nice to be back where I belong.”

“Come down here and say that.” You grin as he falls on you with kisses, fucking into with the fervor of a man who’s thought about this every night for months. 

“Where I belong.” He grazes his teeth along your collarbone, “is wherever I can make you scream, princess. Which right now” he thrusts harder, “is right. Here.”

“Yes.” You dig a hand into his hair, pulling gently to test it, and his pleased laugh morphs to a moan. Otto’s eyes are open now, and he lays on his side clearly enjoying the show. 

The pleasure he’s clearly getting from watching Norman ruin you just adds to heat swirling through your system.  The A.C is fighting for its life, and sweat beads on Norman's neck and your throat. 

A ravenous, playful tongue drags up your neck and you laugh, “Norman!”

“I’m sorry” his voice is muffled in your hair, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I don’t mind. As we’ve established, I like that you’re a dirty boy.” You tilt your head to the side, and he takes it for the permission it is, lapping at your neck and between your tits with animalistic groans. 

“You’ve really got his number, sunshine.” Otto unsticks the hair plastered across your eyes, “fuck, it’s so hot watching him discover why I can’t go a day without you in my bed.”

“You, you two better not have banged up my walls with the headboard.” Norman sets a possessive hand on your cheek as his thrust grow erratic, “otherwise I might have to charge a fee. Two hours under my desk with my cock in that pretty little mouth”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Osborn.”

“Fuck!” Norman yelps as he cums, whole body trembling. You kiss his palm as he rides it out, coax him down into your arms as he pulls free and manages to toss the condom into the trashcan. 

“That was incredible.”

Norman beams and kisses you, “No kidding.” He sets a hand on your cunt, heat of his skin almost too much given how sensitive and raw the waxed area is. He doesn’t press his fingers in, doesn’t even move his hand. It’s more like he’s reminding you that he could. That you’re his. 

He looks from you to Otto, then gasps, surprised, when Otto leans over and kisses his cheek. 

“That was the best show I’ve seen in years.”

Norman touches the spot he kissed, ears pink, “Glad you approve.”

Otto looks down at you, grinning, “Next time, I want to act. Not just watch.”

You and Norman answer at the same time. 

But it never registered that the reason why you always seemed to catch him looking is because you were also constantly looking his way. Whenever he would catch you staring at him your excuse would be something along the lines of ‘I wanted to ask you a question.’, followed by the dumbest possible question you could think of. Bobby never believed that lame excuse, but he never mentioned that either.

Now you were cleaning up the mess that Karen had made. The people here never seemed to have manners. The weather in Florida was always terribly hot, and you could feel a bead of sweat running down your temple to your cheek. The Karen that had made the mess was luckily the only person that had come to the motel today, and the rest of the rooms were empty now. Your internship was due to end just after the high season and the last few days were just cleaning up and getting ready to write a report and go back to school.

Bobby was watching you work from his office. He stood up, pretending he had to fix the wires behind the computer. But really it was just an excuse to watch you mop the floor clean. Your shorts hugging your butt perfectly, your light shirt getting wet from the sweat and moist air… he shakes his head and looks back at the screen. He can’t think of you like that.

You finish cleaning up the floor and stand up. You can feel someone staring at you so you turn around, already knowing it’d be Bobby staring back at you from the doorway.

‘Y/n, working as hard as ever I see.’ He muses.

‘You know it.’ You shoot him a wink when you throw the trash in the bin. ‘Though, today has been quite relaxed. No new check ins, only people leaving. In fact, I’m not sure anyone is staying in the magic castle at the moment.’

‘You’re right, from today there are no bookings. High season is over so I don’t really expect anyone here except junkies looking for a cheep room.’ You chuckle at his words, he cracks a smile in return. You walk over to the counter to get rid of the cleaning utilities. Bobby’s eyes linger on your form for a moment too long, and you notice him staring.

‘So, you have any other tasks for me?’ you ask, your tone playful but also not inappropriate. You walk past him, making sure to brush your bare arm against his. The skin to skin contact sends sparks through your body. When you put the cleaning materials in the lower drawer your eyes move back to him. You can’t help but look at the muscles on his legs, going up into his wide shorts. When you catch yourself staring you blink rapidly to break the contact and move back to the drawer, putting everything back where you took it from.

‘Actually,’ he starts when you stand up, ‘I know tomorrow is your last day. It is also terribly hot outside and there are no guests to help at the moment. I suggest you take the rest of the day off, cool down at the pool, do whatever. If I need you tomorrow I know where to find you, but for now I think you’ve done enough. Thanks for your help.’ His tone was sincere, you had done a great deal of work around the motel in the last few weeks. And you were definitely not going to object to an afternoon off.

So you thanked Bobby an took his offer. The rest of the day went by in a haze. You wasted no time in putting on your swimming clothes and getting situated by the pool. The cool water was very welcome on a day like this. You alternated between cooling off in the water and laying on one of the poolside beds tanning and occasionally dozing off for a bit. Bobby watched you from a distance, seeing you enjoy your free time and catch up on some much needed rest reassured him he had made the right decision in giving you a day off.

 It was only when the sun started setting Bobby actually made his way towards you. You were soaking up the last rays of sunshine of the day, eyes closed and laying on your back on one of the poolside beds. It wasn’t until you head Bobby clear his throat behind you that you were alerted to his presence. Lazily you open one eye to look in his general direction. He was standing next to your seat, sitting down on the plastic bed next to you when you acknowledged his presence.

‘So, how did you enjoy your day off?’ Bobby spoke up, starting the conversation.

Your eyes gazed at the sky, the sun was already starting to set.

‘It was nice to enjoy the place a bit before having to leave’ you answer with a smile

‘So… working here wasn’t enjoyable?’ he asked with a smirk.

‘No! I mean, yes it was. I just meant that it was nice to enjoy some time off whilst here, too.’ You quickly defended. Bobby chuckled from next to you as a blush crept onto your cheeks.

‘I was just kidding, darling.’ He said. Your head snapped to look at him at this unexpected term of endearment. Of course, it was a term often used by many people for many reasons. But in your mind you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he meant something more… The blush spreading on your cheeks becomes more of a crimson shade. Would he notice? Oh God… what if he did?

‘I… I think I’m going for a swim.’ You promptly announce.

‘You do look awfully hot.’ He says with a smirk.

You look back at him, having already crossed half the distance to the pool, in complete shock. Why would he say something like that? What is going on? You felt like you had a sunburn. Bobby clears his throat at your awkward expression.

‘From the sun… I mean.’ He adds unconvincingly with half a smile. Words caught in your throat. You wanted to ask him what he meant but at the same time you were convinced your mind was making things up now. Maybe you were still asleep on the lounge bed next to the pool and this was just a dream? You quickly turned your head back to the pool and without a second thought jumped in. the water was colder than it had been earlier that day, but it wasn’t as cold as it would be in the mornings. But one thing was clear now, this definitely was no dream. The need for air became clear after a few seconds, the cool of the water knocked half of the air out of your lungs upon entering the pool.

With your head towards the sky you resurfaces, making your hair slick against the back of your head and water drip down your back. Bobby’s eyes were still focussed on you, his stare burning in the back of your head.

Bobby couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way you gracefully waded through the water to cool down, the way the last sunlight illuminated your facial features is the most beautiful way… he had grown very fond of you over the time you had worked for him. Too fond maybe… but still his eyes could not look away. You had worked so hard the last weeks, and he had nothing but praise for you. That would definitely reflect in the assessment he had to fill out for you. But he felt a pull towards you. And with the way you looked right now, carelessly wading through the water… Bobby couldn’t stop himself as he took of his shirt and trousers to join you in the water. He wanted to see you like this from up close, knowing it may be one of the last days he had with you here.

Your mind had started to wander in the water. Soon you were to go back to your college, back to your ‘old’ life. Old routines… And by God you didn’t want to. You had enjoyed the work there so much that you’d rather stay here to work. But you also knew you had to get your degree first.

But your train of thought was interrupted as you heard the water splash behind you. You turned around just in time to see Bobby resurface and wipe the water from his eyes and his now wet hair from his forehead. You stifled a laugh at his expression. He looked like a drowning dog.

‘Oh that is COLD’ he exclaimed.

The laugh you held back escaped your throat anyways. Bobby smiled back at you even though he was looking miserable in the cooling water. But then again, it was his choice to jump in. He casually walked over to where you were wading through the pool, his arms crossed over his chest to find any form of warmth.

This, however, left his face exposed.

You waited until he was close enough to you. He was about to open his mouth to make small talk or something, when you caught him off guard by splashing water in his direction, hitting him square in the face.

‘Oh you little-‘ Is all Bobby got out before you did it again. It was good to let some steam off at the end of the day. He took a moment to regain his composure, but when he did it was your time to flee. He kept chasing you around the pool whilst you tried to either swim away or keep him at distance with water. The sun went down quickly and before you knew it the automatic lights of the pool went on due to lack of light. That one second distraction was enough for Bobby to finally catch up with you.

You feel two strong calloused hand grab you by the waist, and you laugh out.

‘Gotcha!’ he says playfully.

You turn around in his grip to face him, your smile meeting his.

Bobby’s eyes drop to your lips, unable to stop himself. You catch the movement and the smile on your lips falters, anticipation pooling in your chest. What was happening? You never expected your boss to feel that way. You had dreamt of it during your internship, sure. But this was different from another daydream you would have whilst lying in your bed.

You hadn’t even noticed the gap between the two of you closing, his lips almost brushing yours but not yet touching.

‘I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional.’ You hear Bobby breathe the words out softly.

‘I don’t think I want you to.’ You breathe back.

And that is all the confirmation he needs before crashing his lips to yours.

Time stands still as your hands land on his toned chest, your lips moving together as if they were meant to be. Bobby seemed to have forgotten all about the chill of the water the moment you press your body up into him. The feeling of your thinly covered body pressing against his warming him up from the inside, and some more than that.

But the cool water did affect both of your lung capacities, and the need for air became apparent more quickly than either of you had wanted. After breaking the kiss Bobby wasted no time in trailing his hands up your sides towards your chest, carefully cupping one breast in his hand and tweaking a hard nipple between his thumb and finger. Your breath catches in your throat. The adrenaline spiking in your body from the possibility of getting caught and the thrill of finally having your feelings for your almost ex-supervisor out in the open.

‘Wait…’ you moan out but make no move to remove his hand from your chest, actually pushing yourself into him even more craving his touch. The voice of reason in the back of your head telling you this was risky, unprofessional and the chance of getting caught was high out here becoming softer and softer. ‘Right here?’ you ask Bobby looking up at him with puppy eyes.

‘We could, of course, go up to one of the rooms, but the motel is empty. No one will be around here anytime soon’. He smirks down at you. ‘Or is that just what you wanted? Doing this here? You’ve thought about this before haven’t you.’ He stated with a smirk. He could read you like a freaking book. You start to blush and the words to deny his statement get caught in your throat. Of course you have thought about this happening, but never in your wildest dreams did you dare to imagine it coming true.

Your silence is confirmation enough for Bobby to know he’s right. He leans down again to capture your lips with his and you return the kiss enthusiastically. You feel his hand move down from your waist to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh there. You get the hint and jump up wrapping your thighs around him. Bobby walks both of you over to the side of the pool, your back now pressed against the impossibly cold stone wall. At the cold hitting your back you let out a moan, the burning fire in your body clashing with the contrast of temperature.

Bobby pushed you against the side of the pool tightly, harshly rutting his hard cock into your pussy. Your head falls back in a moan when you finally felt some friction where you needed him most.

‘Look at you, so desperate for me.’ He says. You move your head back forwards, kissing him deeply, all teeth and tongue. His hand moves down to more the bottom of your swimming attire to the side, his fingers brushing along your folds along the way. You break the contact between your lips so suck in a sharp breath.

‘I’ve never done this before.’ You whisper against his lips as he starts playing with your clit, exposed to the cool water now. He looks at you questioningly. ‘In a pool, I mean.’ You clarify.

‘Well, There is a first time for everything right?’ he says moving his fingers from your clit to your entrance, feeling how wet you were already for him. His fingers slid into you with ease. You were so wet he could add a third finger without much resistance. ‘So ready for me… do you want my cock?’

‘Yes’ is all you can moan out when he adds friction to your clit by pressing his palm into you.

‘You have to use your words, darling. What do you want?’ he asks again. Your eyes bore into his, both of your pupils dilated with lust.

‘I want you to fuck me, right here right now.’ Your say grinding your pussy up into him. You push just hard enough to brush against his cock and he lets out a surprised gasp at the unexpected friction.

‘You think you can take me?’ he asks, pulling down his trousers and pulling out his cock. He was now retracing the movements he did earlier with his fingers with his cock, sliding the blunt tip over your clit for a while and the moving it to your aching cunt.

‘Pleaaseee’ is all you get out.

‘Ever so eager’ Bobby laughs and moves to push himself inside you. The water of the pool splashes around you as he sets a relentless pace. He also had to hold back for a while, his thoughts about you during your internship were not all that innocent either. Now that he is finally buried inside you his mind completely fogs over, just taking whatever he needs from you in the pool.

You see his brows furrow in concentration as he pounds into you roughly, taking whatever he needs from you, and it is the hottest thing you had ever seen. You feel the heat in your belly start to spread to all parts of your body and you knew you were getting close. Bobby could feel it too, the way your cunt tightens around his cock, dragging along his shaft in the most perfect way.

‘Cum for me, baby.’ He whispers in your ear, accentuating each word with a thrust of his hips. The sound of his laboured breath in your ear in combination with his words was enough to push you over the edge. The fire now burning in your entire being, eyes closing as the feeling of your orgasm washed over you. The way it made you clench down on his cock was enough to send Bobby over his tipping point too, finishing with a few stuttering thrusts.

As you both came down from your high the cold of the water and evening air really hit. Bobby felt it when you started shuddering, still in his embrace.

‘Maybe…’ you started in a whisper, ‘we could go inside, it is still early.’