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He decided not to. It wasn’t the time or the place. He looked over to the east at the San Francisco skyline in the distance, framed by the long, graceful cables. The familiar feeling of fear wasn’t there. It wasn’t there when he turned his head to study the island of the notorious prison, Alcatraz, lit up to look like a small castle. He looked down from the dizzying height and saw the surf roll against the cliffs, mingling with the wind to make a soft hissing sound.
The international orange of the bridge took on a dark muted ginger hue at night. Soothing and comforting.
“Hey, are we going to stay up here all night?”
“I could.”
Lana smiled and looked around. “I don’t see any place to eat around here, O’Neill, and as I said, I’m hungry,” she groused.
They made their way down the suspension. “So, was that some kind of male bonding thing we just experienced?” Lana asked.
“There is nothing male about you, Lana.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean, and yeah, we bonded.” He wouldn’t trade this night for anything in his life. He looked up at the North Tower and smiled. He’d mastered his fear and it made his chest tight to know that Lana had been there to share the experience with him.
He discovered quite a bit about her, about himself and what he cherished in his life.
* * *
After getting a bite, they got a room at a nearby hotel. Tired, Sean had fallen asleep, but woke from a light doze when the shower began. He got up and silently opened the bathroom door. The shower had one of those see-through shower curtains and he stood there in the bathroom, his back against the door and watched Lana.
Her body was tight and toned, flowing lines of hard female curves. His hands tingled as he stared at her plump, luscious breasts crowned with the rich mocha-colored nipples. Nipples he’d rolled between his fingers, flushed and hard against his tongue, his hungry, suckling mouth.
The sheerness of the shower curtain guaranteed him a spectacular view of her soft, rounded thighs, the creamy globes of her ass, and the enticing divide between them.
She arched her back and leaned her head back to wet her hair, thrusting her breasts out. He put his hands in his pockets, shifting against the door.
She soaped her hair and used her fingers to rinse it, sensually drawing them through the heavy, wet mass. She sighed softly, a sound that cut through him like a knife.
She picked up a bar of soap and drew it slowly down her arms, over her shoulders and neck. Water and soap mingled as she used the flat of her hand to massage the creamy bubbles into a lather against her even creamier skin.
She cupped her breasts and slid the soap across her nipples, and they tightened and distended. Dragging the bar down her stomach, she stopped just shy of her mound. With one hand she moved the shower curtain aside. “Want to wash my back, O’Neill?”
He walked to the shower and said, “Tease,” as he stripped off his bottoms and grabbed a condom from the counter. He stepped into the charged air of the shower. He liked Lana naked and wet; it reminded him of the excitement the first time they’d made love, and he wanted to relive it.
She took the latex and sheathed him before pressing her lips to his. He sank into her, into the slickness of her mouth. His hands cupped her bottom and drew her against him.
Sean’s head dipped down to her warm velvet tipped breast and took the hardened peaks into his mouth in turn as he lifted her off her feet and set her against the wall. Lana supported herself on his shoulders as he deftly guided her onto his hard cock.
She gasped in gratification at the sweet feel of him stretching her with his pulsating flesh. Bracing her against the warmed tiles of the shower, he slowly pumped his hips, easing in and out with slow seductive strokes.
Lana cried out her satisfaction. His movements intensified, thrusting deeply into her as if he wanted to climb inside and lose himself in her. The sweet pulsations of Lana’s climax sent him into his own and he moaned against her moist, clean-smelling skin at the powerful release.
He slipped out of her and pulled her against him, letting her ride slowly down his body until her face was level with his own. Her hands kneaded the bunched muscles of his biceps as she leaned against him weakly.
He moved finally, drying them off and getting into bed. Releasing an unsteady sigh, he gathered her up in a secure embrace, tucking her head against the curve of his neck. He didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes and drew her deeper into his embrace, his chest tightening.
Lana started to stroke him, but he caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth, then held it immobile against his chest. He waited until she relaxed in his arms, then he adjusted his hold. He wanted to connect with her, but not only in the physical sense.
“Do you remember the time we had the ladder-climbing competition when we were at the academy?”
She didn’t say anything for the longest time; then he felt her smile. “You mean the one where I beat your ass?”
He nodded and stroked her temple. “Yeah, two times.”
“That’s right.”
