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I can practically see the way she zeroes in on what she’s doing, every iota of her being aligned with this.
I can feel the innate power of her body.
Her movements are fluid, yet strong.
If I ever thought she only posed for pretty, calculated photos without any real effort in the field behind them, I was wrong.
This girl works out.
Her core is strong enough to make the journey without breaking her, if we take it slow, even if she’ll be working new muscle groups I will myself not to imagine.
“This is good. Keep it up,” I tell her.
It’s anything butgood.
I should move the hell back now, knowing she’s making progress.
We’re still too close, practically touching.
The reason I can feel her strength is because her back is fully pressed against my chest.
When did she move closer?
Or was it me?
Regardless, I feel the way her chest swells with low, steady breaths. The pinch of her shoulder blades, their movements, the softness of her hair skimming across my hand.
Her fingers brush mine again, but she doesn’t seem to notice anymore.
Me?
I can’tstopnoticing, and though I’m supposed to be the responsible one, I don’t shift my position.
She’s a tall woman, even if she still has nothing on my height, but here in my arms, she feels so delicate. Small and fragile and unbearably precious.
“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” she says warmly.
The unexpected delight in her voice catches me off guard.
My body catches up with my sex-drunk brain, and I drop my hands, stepping back.
“If you think you’re ready to head out, we can make some decent time.” My voice is tight, but if she notices, she doesn’t comment.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready for the kayak now.”
I talk her through a few more basic safety tips as we prep, like not letting go of her paddle, and how to get in and out of the kayak safely without tipping over.
Basic stuff, everything she needs to know.
“Do you usually teach kids? Is this your spiel?” she asks when I’m done.
“What?”
“Do you think I’m just clueless?”
“What?”
She strides over to the kayak and eyes it for a second before climbing in, hands braced on the sides and feet sliding inside. She bends her knees, finds the right position, and glances up at me.
