Claire
"For the umpteenth time, Jordan, stop staring at me," I said without looking up, a smirk across my face.
Jordan stood on the other side of the fence, his eyes burning into me as I lounged by the pool.
My red bikini was tight, like it was hanging on to my ample breasts for dear life and I knew it was driving him crazy. At thirty-eight, I still turned heads, and Jordan's were no exception.
"I wasn't," he drooled, dripping with charm.
Taking off my sunglasses, I looked over at him. He was shirtless, holding a hose like he had forgotten how to use it. His abs glistened, his hair wet and dripping. He was twenty-two, maybe twenty-three, old enough to be my son but too young for me to notice that way I had these past weeks– but I noticed anyway. It was hard not to, those hungry eyes f
