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His heart panged with sad resignation, as it always did when Ava drifted into his thoughts. He'd never forget her, but over the years, the lines and contours of her face blurred. Even in his dreams, her once-beloved features dimmed and diffused. Yet some things about her never faded. The important things. The softness of her hands when she'd tend his wounds. The kindness of her voice whispering soothing words in his ear. The warmth of her body in the frigid desert nights.
"I'm sinking." Zorah's bare legs flailed and splashed, jerking his attention back to the struggling woman in front of him.
At least she'd finagled a pair of shorts to swim in tonight, even though all that bare skin on display tested his ability to stay focused on swimming.
He firmed his touch against her back and wiggled his fingers. "I'm right here; you're not going to sink. Feel my hand. I've got you."
Water sloshed over her face, her body not quite finding the right buoyant arch. Her fingertips grappled for stability, raking over his chest in a quest for a handhold. Jake's skin rippled and shivered in unexpected pleasure at the touch. It made his mind go places it had no business going.
With a splash, Zorah righted herself in the water, standing and sputtering as she took a few steps toward the shore. "I can't do this."
He snorted. Fearless and more than capable, only her impatience held her back.
"Not with that attitude," he said in mild reproach, his lips twitching in indulgent amusement.
Zorah huffed and rolled her eyes, and without a second's hesitation, Jake tossed a playful splash of water at her scowling face. Zorah yelped with surprise, or outrage, or both and indignantly wiped the water from her cheeks. Jake hid a self-satisfied snicker behind his palm, pretending to scratch at his stubble.
Face cleared, Zorah's eyes flashed in the silvery moonlight with defiance and mischief for one-half second before she walloped a wall of water back at him. Stupidly, he hadn't expected or prepared for the retaliation. He only managed to throw his hands up in time to catch the whopping second splash she added for good measure, accompanied by a truly audacious cackle. His meager defense did absolutely nothing, and the water mercilessly pelted his face, shooting in his eyes, mouth, and somehow up his nose. His sinuses burned, his eyes watered, and his mouth tasted like lake, but none of that hampered the easy mirth bubbling through him.
Floating practice disbanded, he glided in her direction. "Is this the game you want to play?" he taunted, still smiling.
"You started it," she said impishly, flinging water at him in small, provocative flicks.
He prowled closer, inhibitions washing away with every step. "And I'll end it."
The smirk on her lips belied the serious glare she attempted to level at him. "We'll see about that."
And then it was on.
The water erupted in a geyser of chaotic splashes and squeals. Zorah hopped and skipped through the water, trying in vain to dodge his assaults, but she couldn't match him in either offense or defense. She whirled in a circle trying to anticipate his movements, at times holding her nose and dunking her head to avoid an onslaught, only to meet a face-full when she re-emerged. Chuckling, he dove under, circling to pop up and splash her from some new vantage. In return, she flung great handfuls of water at his face and fiendishly giggled. Drops shot into his mouth and down his throat, turning his laughs into half-choking chortles. After a few minutes, his cheeks ached, muscles used for happiness atrophied after long neglect.
In the heated midst of the water fight, a thought struck him: he was havingfun. Like, actual, innocent, glorious fun.
"Ugh!" Zorah spluttered and held up a palm, giggling while inelegantly spitting out a mouthful from a particularly good shot. "That was uncalled for!"
"Oh, believe me, it wasverycalled for," Jake said. He swam closer, planting his feet near hers in the water. They'd wandered into a depth far from where they'd started, leaving only her head bobbing above the undulating ripples. "You want to move closer to shore?"
Zorah's mouth opened and then shut, and she tilted her head back to look up at him, a peculiar twist to her lips. She stared like she'd never seen him before. He felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, not sure if he was being studied or about to be fried.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He wiped at his nose. "Do I have snot on my face or something?"
Her cheeks rounded, highlighting the cute, heart shape of her face. "I've never seen you smile before," she finally said. Her eyes darted down to his chest and then lifted again. "You're very handsome."
He wanted to scoff. She had no idea the ravages his skin revealed in the harsh light of day, ravages which paled in comparison to those she could never see. But he held the dismissal back, not wanting to imply she'd done a single thing wrong with her compliment. Misguided, perhaps, but she was sofuckingsweet that he didn't have it in him to dismiss anything she said.
He swallowed audibly, choking down the sudden lump in his throat. "Thank you."
Still smiling and panting softly from the exertion, Zorah tilted forward and wafted her nose over his naked chest. Close enough to gust a hot breath on the cool stretch of his skin. Close enough to brush her breasts against his torso.
Pleasure licked down his spine, and Jake suppressed a violent shudder, not at all sure whatthe fuckwas happening.
"I like your scent," she whispered, and — in a move that threatened to completely wreck his precarious control — her nipples puckered beneath the worn cotton T-shirt that separated his skin from hers.
Tight and hard, they poked into his abdomen in silent demand. His dick roared unfailingly to life, ready and all too willing to get involved.
"It's clean, but with a sharpness, a bite," she mused, oblivious to his distress as she huffed another breath like he was some kind of human hookah pipe. "Like herbs washed in the ocean."
Jake watched her olfactory exploration, immobilized by the dazed, dreamy expression on her face. She seemed to have drifted into some kind of altered state by their mere proximity, like just being close to him was an intoxicant. With his last ditch of sense, Jake stepped back, knowing beyond a doubt that if he didn't get some distance from herright fucking now, he would lose it completely.
