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His voice faded, and his face darkened. He stiffened as if he might pull away, and I kissed him. Open-mouthed, lots of tongue, as I gripped his biceps and poured all that I wanted, all that I needed, into this single embrace.
He hadn’t been with anyone but his wife—maybe ever, but considering his reaction to just the sight of my body, the touch of my hand, definitely since he’d lost her.
Walker was a naked man in the water with a naked woman. Eventually he kissed me back. He didn’t stand much of a chance.
I believed he needed to connect with someone; I certainly needed to, and not in a nudge-nudge, whisper, snicker, connect-with-me-baby kind of way. I needed a connection, the sharing of bodies, some kindness and awareness in a world where there’s so very little.
If, in some tiny corner of my mind, I thought, Maybe he’s the one, the one who won’t leave, I didn’t know it then. Then all I knew was the taste of his mouth, the sleek, wet expanse of his skin, the scent of the water and the wind and the night. We both belonged right here, right now, with each other. I’d worry about later... later.
His hands raced over my body, slipping, sliding both above and below the water; the sensation of his hot flesh and the cool creek, his slightly roughened fingers on skin that hadn’t been roughened at all, made me moan. He traced a palm over my hip and swooped up, cupping one breast, then the other, before scraping his thumbnail over each peak.
My head fell back, my eyes half-open so I could watch his head descend and his lips close over me. His tongue pressed my nipple against the roof of his mouth, suckling me as one finger dipped below the surface of the water and stroked.
The moon was satin on my cheeks, his mouth like silk. The lap of the creek, the pressure of his hand, I came apart in his arms just as he’d come apart in mine. He held me as I gasped, and pressed soft kisses across my chin, even as his fingers drew out the magic.
I met his eyes. “Sorry,” I said, and he smiled, hearing the echo of himself.
“That was ...” He paused, uncertain.
“Amazing? Astounding? Fantastic?”
“Yes.”
“How about one more?” I headed downstream, tugging him along after me.
“Life-altering? Mind-boggling? Mood-shifting?”
I glanced over my shoulder, pleased at the happiness on his face. Until now, he’d only looked sad.
“When I said, ‘How about one more?’ I didn’t mean an adjective.”
The water deepened until it was over our heads. I dropped his hand and began to swim.
“What did you mean?”
He swam, too, following me around the bend and into the secluded cove where the water remained warm nearly the whole year through. I don’t know if an underground spring fed the pond or if the smaller, somewhat enclosed area held the heat of the sun longer than the moving length of the creek. Either way, this was my secret place. I’d never brought anyone here, not even Claire.
At the center, I let my feet drift to the soft bottom, then rose into the moon-shrouded air like a mermaid. The water lapped at my rib cage. Droplets shone like pearls on my skin.
“I meant, how about one more?”
“Oh!” He dragged his gaze from my chest to my face. “Yes.”
I floated across the few feet separating us, stopping when I was so close my breasts brushed his chest. Then I bobbed up once and sank beneath the surface.
Chapter 11
“Grace!” He grabbed at me, but I was too quick. As soon as my mouth closed around him, he understood I’d meant to submerge.
I could hold my breath for a very long time, even without the added incentive. The water was warm, welcoming. Beneath the surface everything was dark.
He was already hard; I wasn’t surprised. Even though I’d taken the edge off earlier, he was still a desperate man. I’d never known I had a thing for desperation until I’d tasted it in him.
Lazily I ran my tongue along his length, then drew him deep within. The swirl of water past my face revealed movement even before his hand cupped my head, showing me the rhythm. In and out he pumped against my lips. Long before I was ready, he urged me upward. I shook my head, suckling him hard, grazing him with my teeth before I gave in and burst from the water.
His hands found my arms; he dragged me against him, the poke of his erection insistent. He tasted of need. I wrapped myself around him and held on.
He fell back, taking me with him, and side-by-side we floated, kissing, touching, arousing. My shoulders bumped against the mossy bank, and I twirled with the current until he was braced against it, then slid up his body until we were face-to-face. His hands spanned my waist; my legs opened, then closed around him.
