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Sandra seemed totally at ease out on the water, despite his dour exaggerated predictions that they would hit an iceberg or be hit by a whale. Her cheeks and forehead bore the bright stamp of the wind and the cold, her hair streamed back from her face, and her bottom lip was caught in her teeth.
The sail caught the wind, flapped, and they shot off again with her hands steady as she guided them through the water. Connor wore a life jacket but the thought of falling into the churning blue gray depths was still enough to make him have to turn his head up towards the sky.
The sky did not make him feel any better. Fat clouds bore dark-tinted edges and the dome of the heavens was leaden. It felt like snow and he knew that they needed to get off the water before that happened but she did not seem concerned.
He was used to being the one in control, sitting back and letting things happen was not really his style. When Sandra had asked him why he had bought a house so close to the sea and never took advantage of its pleasures he had reminded her that he could not swim.
“I can admire the scenery, though,” he had joked.
Her dark brown eyes had narrowed in thought and before he could really understand half of what she was saying they had wound up taking out a small sailboat she had procured from a place that rented them on the outskirts of the town.
It was a slim and swift little vessel. Sandra had gone on and on about cleats, and sails and booms, he had just put on the life jacket and hoped he made it through the afternoon. It had not taken long for the strong emotions still passing through him to take hold however. He had never seen the sea or his home from that angle, and he stared at its walls and the windows as she guided them to the long boat launch that had sat empty out there for so long.
There were things that had to be done to ready the boat for the night. He helped as much as he could; amused by the way she just casually tossed off orders at him. She would pay for that later, he had no doubt. He was enjoying contemplating exactly how he would.
When she bent over to do some mysterious thing her ass cheeks turned up, her jeans cupping the peach like halves. The seam of her jeans neatly bisected that ripeness, laid a trail over the wet depths that lay snuggled between her thighs, his eyes lit up as he hit on something and when she turned around to see him looking at her with that devilish light in his eyes her face went even more scarlet.
Sandra knew he was cooking up something deliciously nasty, it showed on his face. A little shiver that was not from cold went down her spine and warmth spread through her lower belly.
She asked, “How did you like the sail?”
“It was wonderful.” He spoke with sincerity. “I never realized what I was missing until now. As we were pulling back to shore I saw the house from the water, and I was just thinking how the man who built this place must have seen it that way so often. He must be happy that someone who appreciates the sea is finally in the house.”
The words made her smile. “I am so glad you liked it.”
“I wish it had been warmer.” He gave a long and highly dramatic shiver, making her laugh. Her laughter cut off when he gathered her in his arms and crushed her mouth with his own.
When she could speak again she whispered, “I know a way to get you warm.”
“I’ll bet you do.” He gave her a playful swat on the bottom. “If we are done here let’s go inside.”
The snow had fallen again during the night, their feet sank into the drifts, and Sandra was weary long before they battled their way up the slippery stairs and into the sheltering warmth of the house. She had needed the exercise more than she had realized, they had spent the last two days huddled before the roaring fire in the library, laughing and playing cards and making love on the soft rugs. It had been a magical and happy time but coming out into the crisp clean air and cold had shaken the cobwebs out of her mind bringing her back to reality.
The reality was Christmas break was almost over and it was obvious to both of them they were in love. It was equally obvious he wanted her in Maine with him and while she was not totally sold on the idea she no longer feared it so much either.
That made a long held doubt surface again. How could people be a couple if they got bored after just a few days? How did a couple keep the spark going? Could she work that hard? She was sure it was hard work that kept it alive, that and a natural passion—which they undoubtedly had. Did she have the ability to stick it out?
Her mother had not had that ability, what if her footloose wanderlust had been transferred to her daughter. What if she decided to have a child with Connor then got bored and left?
Nobody is talking marriage; she chided herself as they made it into the glowing warmth of the back hallway.
Connor’s housekeeper Lois, a stern faced lifelong resident of Maine, met them with the announcement there was ‘plenty of hot stuff’ in the kitchen’, a proclamation that triggered a memory and a few giggles as they walked into the rustic white walled room.
Lois had made them fragrant tea, coffee, and an immense and delectable chicken potpie. Sandra was starving and she dug in, as did Connor. They talked as they ate both of them aware of the growing hunger within them, a hunger that could not be assuaged by mere food.
They took their time, letting the pleasurable tension spin out between them. Sandra watched Connor; his hair was mussed and windblown from the sail. His blue eyes snapped with light and energy and his fingers stroked his coffee cup, seeking warmth from the heavy ceramic and its contents.
Her eyes kept going to those long fingers, she watched, mesmerized; those little caresses on the mug. She knew what those little strokes felt like on her body and she had to take long deep breaths to control her heart beat as he lifted the cup to his full and sensual mouth and took a long slow sip, his eyes meeting hers over the rim.
“There is something I want you to see.”
The words made her nipples, already taut from the severe cold, tighten even more. They rubbed painfully against the cotton of her bra. “What is it?”
His face was deliberately expressionless. “You will see. Are you finished eating?”
“Yes, I will just clear the table since Lois has already gone.”
“Leave it. This is more important.”
