She twists to look. The branch bumps against the rock and floats off downstream.
A groan slips out as she drops her forehead briefly against my shoulder. “Oh my God.”
I let out a short breath of a laugh. “You nearly killed me.”
“I thought it was a snake!”
She’s still wrapped around me, arms around my shoulders, legs locked at my waist. Neither of us moves as the waterfall crashes behind us, her weight pressed fully against me.
Too close.
I can feel the shape of her through the thin fabric, her breathing uneven against my neck as the adrenaline fades.
Every nerve in my body lights up.
Instinct kicks in before anything else. My hands slide lower, gripping firmly to keep us from slipping.
For a second, it’s just balance.
Then my brain catches up with where my hands are.
Charlotte stills too, like she’s just realized how close we are.
But neither of us moves. Because if we do, we’re both going down.
And for one brief, dangerous second, my mind betrays me again.
This.This is what it would feel like to hold her. To have her this close without it being an accident.
But I can’t have this.
Charlotte lifts her head and looks at me. Water clings to her lashes, trailing down her cheek as the waterfall crashes behind us.
Her arms loosen a little, but she doesn’t let go right away. “Sorry. Reflex, I guess.”
“It’s okay.”
For a few seconds, neither of us moves. The water pounds down around us, loud enough to fill the space where words should be.
Then she clears her throat and unwinds her legs, sliding down. The movement is slow and controlled, but there’s no way not to feel her slide over my cock as she lowers herself.
I go still.
When her feet finally find the rock, her hands come up to my chest to steady herself. Her palms press briefly against my skin before she steps back.
For a second, we just stand there. Too aware.
She clears her throat again and pushes wet hair back from her face. “We should probably head back and start dinner. It’s getting late.”
“Yeah.”
We leave the waterfall and swim back without saying much. By the time we climb out, the light has shifted, turning warmer, softer through the trees.
Charlotte wrings out her hair and grabs the shirt she left on a branch. I look away while she pulls it on.
We start walking a moment later, side by side. Neither of us brings up what just happened. But the silence isn’t the same as it used to be. If anything, it feels… unsteady. Like something’s changed and we’re both aware of it, even if we’re not saying it out loud.
Chapter 9
