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I hand her a plastic baggie that already has some chopped cilantro, olive oil, salt and pepper in it, and then squeeze the juice from a lime after she has the fish in there. “Massage the marinade into the fish for a minute, gently, and then I’ll stick it back in the cooler.”
“Massage the fish?” She shakes her head, giggling. “Changed my mind. No reality expedition show for you. You’ll have a cooking show calledThe Sensual Chef. You’ll film in an apron with nothing on underneath and you’ll croon when you look into the camera and say,Massage the filet, Handle the breasts with careor,” she’s having a hard time catching her breath by the time she says, “Work that meat until it’s tender.”
“Work that meat? You,” I point to her, “have a dirty mind.”
“My mind is all sorts of dirty when I’m around you.”
“You just made my day.” Stripping down to my boxers, I tell her, “Let’s clean up before we start cooking. I’ve been dying to get back in that river all day.”
Grace starts to undress but doesn’t get too far. She unfastens her shorts but stops when they’re halfway down over her hips. Her lips are parted and she’s stuck in place.
“You all right?”
“Your body.” Her eyes drift back up to meet mine. “I mean, I know you probably do conditioning drills all the time so you’re in great shape, but you really are kinda…perfect.”
I step closer and take the hem of her tank top. Moving it up and over her head, I fix my eyes on what I’ve just revealed.She’sperfect. I run a finger over her soft skin, round and full where it peeks out from the sides of her string bikini top. Then I push her shorts down so they fall to the ground, and she steps out of them and takes my hand as I lead her down to the river.
“It’s still warm,” she whispers as she dips her toe into the water.
“Get on my back again. I’ll walk us in so you don’t have to step on the rocks.”
And once we’re chest deep, I let go of her so I can turn around to face her. She pops under for a moment and comes up for air, bright-eyed and smiling. “The water feels sooo good.”
I’ve touched her everywhere, gotten to know every part of her body over the course of this month we’ve been together, but something about being in the water with her feels different, better. “Can I?” I ask her, touching the strings tied at the nape of her neck. She looks around. “We’re alone,” I reassure her. “Only I can see.”
Grace nods and then her hands move to undo the strings at her back. I take the top and swim closer to the shore so I can land it on the rocks. Toss my boxers along with it. When I turn back I see she’s moved in closer too. She’s waist deep now, so her tits are on full display just for me.
“You,” I tell her, “you’re the one who’s perfect.”
She lets me. She lets me cup her breasts, press them together so that I can feel and lick and suck them. She lets me slip her out of her bottoms, lets me cup her ass and inch my fingers in close. And she guides me closer, wrapping her legs around my waist so that she can feel me hard and pressing against her. She knows I want her again and I know she wants me.
There’s just a bit of orange purple pink left in the sky. It will be night before long.
“I’ve never gone skinny dipping before,” she says with her arms laced around my neck. “I’m definitely a fan.”
“It makes you want to build a house right next to a lake, a river or a beach, doesn’t it?” I look back to the bank where our makeshift home for the night is set up. “We could do this every day.”
“Neighbors might think we’re a little wonky.”
“Nah, they’d just be jealous.”
“We’d meet up after work, catch us some crappie—”
“You’d skin it since you’re an expert now.”
“I am.” She smiles proudly. “And an expert skinny dipper, too.”
“That you are, woman.”
Grace takes one of my hands from where it’s resting behind her back and guides it to where we’re pressed up against each other. Her eyes flutter closed when I touch her, and I swear, it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “So fucking hot,” I whisper before telling her to hold on tight.
It’s been this unspoken thing between us, when it’s going to happen. I’m with her nearly every single day at some point, and we haven’t exactly been keeping things chaste. But I’ve held back even when she’s made it clear she wanted me to keep going. I don’t see her as a hook up and I don’t want her to feel used the way she did before. I’m leaving. And while that doesn’t mean sex is off the table, it does make it somewhat more complicated. It’s like Grace hashandle with carestamped all over her body.
“I, um, came prepared,” she tells me as we reach the bank.
I stop and kiss her once before setting her back on solid ground. “You did?”
She nods before going to get our wet things from the rocks. I follow, take what she’s holding and tell her, “Don’t get dressed.” And I feel like Adam and Eve walking the short distance between the river and our tent, out in the open, naked as the Lord made us. It feels like we’re the only two people on this earth right now, and I’m more than fine with that.
