Chapter 2: Intimate encounter
Shannon lays at the pool in her bikini , sunbathing. Her thoughts kept drifting to Ray, the way his stare had lingered on her body, the way his voice had curled around her name like a command. It was stupid. It wasn’t like she had some secret crush on her mother’s boyfriend, but something about the way he looked at her—the way Arianna *looked* when he was in the room—made Shannon’s skin prickle with something between irritation and fascination.
She rolled onto her stomach, adjusting the straps of her bikini top so they didn’t dig into her shoulders. The sun was warm, but not too hot, and the faint hum of cicadas in the oak tree above her brought a strange kind of peace.
Shannon closed her eyes, letting the heat seep into her skin, trying to push Ray out of her mind. It didn’t work. Every time she blinked, his face flashed behind her eyelids—sharp jaw, those unreadable eyes, the way his voice had wrapped around her like silk.
A shadow fell across her at some point.
Shannon cracked an eye open just enough to see Ray standing over her, his silhouette blocking the sun. He was holding two glasses of something cold and lime-green. One was already sweating.
She sat up quickly, sliding her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. "Oh—hi." Her voice came out more breathless than she intended.
Ray didn’t speak right away. Instead, he crouched beside her pool lounger, the movement effortless, like a predator settling into stillness before the strike. The glass he offered was condensation-slicked, the rim rimmed with salt.
Shannon took it without thinking, her fingers brushing his. The contact was electric—like touching a live wire wrapped in velvet. She forced herself to act casual, taking a sip. The drink was sweet, sharp with lime, something homemade and potent.
"Mint juleps," Ray said, watching her lips as she drank. "Your mom’s recipe."
Shannon frowned. "She makes those?"
Ray’s smile was slow, deliberate.
It didn’t soften—it sharpened, like a blade honing itself on the hush of her hesitation. "She does now," he said, his voice low, measured. "She likes cooking for me."
Shannon blinked, the drink suddenly tasting thicker on her tongue. She set the glass down on the edge of the lounger, wiping her fingers against the warm wood of the deck. "That’s… nice," she said, because what else could she say? Her mother had never been one for domesticity—not unless it involved burning dinner and laughing it off.
But now, apparently, she made cocktails for Ray.
Shannon couldn't decide if the realisation made her roll her eyes or made her stomach twist with something far less rational.
Ray shifted closer, the fabric of his shorts whispering against the lounger as he settled beside her. Not too close—not yet—but close enough that Shannon could smell his cologne, something rich and warm like sandalwood and citrus, the kind of scent that clung to a man who knew exactly how he smelled—and exactly how it would affect women.
"You're different from what I expected," Ray said, his voice a velvet murmur, his gaze tracing the lines of her bikini like he was already undressing her with his eyes.
"Your mother talks about you all the time. How smart you are. How independent." He paused, letting the compliment hang in the air like perfume. "I expected someone… sterner."
Shannon’s fingers tightened around the edge of her lounger. "Well, I’m not," she said, forcing a laugh that sounded too sharp, too defensive. The mint julep was going straight to her head already, loosening her tongue when she needed it tight. She could feel his attention like a brand, warm and insistent, pressing against her skin.
His words wrapped around her, smooth as silk, but there was something underneath—something that made her pulse flutter in her throat.
Ray’s fingers brushed the condensation off his glass, his thumb lingering on the rim before he dragged it slowly across his lower lip. "Independent is good," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur that sent a shiver down Shannon’s spine. "But everyone has their breaking point."
Shannon swallowed hard, the words hitting too close to home. She tried to laugh it off again, but this time the sound died in her throat.
"Anyways, it's nice to meet you. We'll hopefully have great times together." Ray said and left Shannon feeling confused and excited at the same time.
Shannon laid back down on her lounger, suddenly feeling too exposed under the golden sun. She could still feel the imprint of Ray's fingers on hers, still hear the low rumble of his voice in her ears. She reached for her glass, taking a long sip to steady herself, but the sweetness of the mint julep only made her head spin more.
She should have been annoyed. Irritated.
This whole thing—Ray, Arianna, the way her mother looked at him like he was some kind of god—should have felt wrong. But Shannon couldn’t shake the way her skin hummed where his gaze had lingered, or the way her body seemed to lean toward him even as her mind screamed at her to stay still.
She pressed her thighs together under the thin fabric of her bikini bottoms, the heat between her legs undeniable. The alcohol only made it worse—her thoughts fuzzy, her inhibitions slipping like silk through her fingers.
Shannon forced herself to sit up again, this time propping herself on her elbows. But soon her hand moved under her bikini bottoms without her realizing it and she bit her lip enjoying the feeling of her own fingers. She tried to think logically—Ray was her mother’s boyfriend, for God’s sake—but every rational thought dissolved like sugar in the mint julep when she remembered the way his eyes had lingered on her, the way his voice had wrapped around her like a promise.
The pool water shimmered just beyond the edge of the lounger, and Shannon suddenly felt restless, the heat of the afternoon pressing down on her like a physical weight.
She started to masturbate heavily, thinking of Ray
’s piercing gaze on her, the way his voice had curled around her like a silken thread. Her fingers moved faster, the fabric of her bikini bottoms dampening with each deliberate stroke. She bit her lip, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she imagined him watching, his presence a shadow over her, his control absolute. The thought sent a shiver through her, her body betraying her mind even as she fought against it.
She came hard, her fingers tremors in her orgasm as she came with a small moan, biting her lip to keep it quiet even as her back arched involuntarily off the lounger. The sun blazed overhead, the pool water shimmered beyond her, and for the first time in her life, Shannon understood the meaning of being *unhinged*.