"Yes…monkeys.”
Splashing through the waves, he held tight to her hand. The droplets of water landed on his skin, gentle pattering of tactile delight. He looked over at her. She was smiling. A first. Was this place magic or was he the only one awakening? Did she feel it too?
“Race you to that tumble of rocks.” She looked toward the far end of the beach, dropped his hand and took off.
He paused; hesitating at her brashness, then bolted after her. Passing her half way, he turned back hooking her around the waist as she tried to pass. They spun once and landed on the fine white sand. Laughing, sputtering, he threw his arm around her waist again as they both shook with hysterics. Drawing her tight against his side, he pressed her head into the curve of his shoulder.
Chortling at an end, he posed. “Chellie…do you ever wonder what it would be like to be stranded on an island?” He felt her head tilt as though to look at him.
“Aren’t we, sort of?”
“No. I mean with no amenities. You know…really roughing it.”
“Don’t think I’d like it.”
He lowered his chin to look at her. “What became of Kate the fearsome?”
“She’s a myth. I don’t know any woman who would choose to pick sand from her thong, over a warm solar shower.” She shifted again pushing herself up onto an elbow, engaging his eyes. He did likewise.
“Would you like to be all alone on a deserted island?” she asked.
“I didn’t say it had to be absolutely deserted. I said ‘stranded’.” He looked at her, dropping the last of his masks, showing his depth for the first time.
“What is it Cameron?” She lifted a gentle hand to his cheek.
“I’ve never fancied being alone…completely stranded with anyone. Until you.”
He cupped her hand at his cheek, leaning to kiss her. Pausing an inch from her lips, he drew in a breath. Salty sweet, feral she, coconut and pineapple sunscreen enveloped his senses. Her nearness threatened to drown him. He claimed her mouth with more veracity than perhaps he had meant, but damn. The woman intoxicated.
It was as though an explosion went off in him, radiating outward through his limbs, numbing his mind to everything but her. The world surrounding became a cocoon of warmth, desire and promise.
How was it that she was the perfect fit against him, warm and sun kissed? Why did she seem the respirator to his very life? When he touched her the blood in his veins raged hot with need.
“Chellie.” He heard his voice rasp, thick with lust.
“Cameron.” She echoed.
Pulling her closer against his arousal, he eased one hand down her back, over the sweet roundness of her ass. Its curve warm in his palm sent him into testosterone overdrive. He nibbled at her shoulder, slid his tongue over her collarbone.
She rewarded him with a low moan as he brushed his hand across her right breast, curled his touch to the downy skin of the hidden underside of the swell. “Lord, you have the most lush body.” He whispered into her ear.
She stiffened and pulled away. Looking into her eyes, she drew in a ragged breath as though preparing to sob. “Too lush.” She stated with a hint of question.
“Because you’re curvaceous?” He pulled his head back a bit further, brows furrowing in perplexed disbelief. “I prefer to make love to a woman, not a scarecrow. “You…” he kissed her forehead and continued moving south “…have everything a man could want.” He murmured against her mouth. Her lips, full, inviting, lay beneath his. Her eyes closed. He sensed her desire.
She exhaled in submission. Her body relaxed and she smiled slow, subtle, seductive.
She opened dreamy eyes. He asked, “Can I give you the tour of the grand oval bed?”
****
His taste. Rich curried spice and tang, bitterness of coffee, combined with a hint almond… created a sensation so addicting she’d need the Betty Ford center to recover. One kiss would not be enough. Nor would two. What was it about this man? Even when he gave her shit, he incited her, made her wild.
“I’ll have you know I’m no pushover.” She giggled in his arms as he carried her over the threshold of the bungalow’s entrance. The heat of the day was building; the cool of shade a welcome relief.
“I can tell that, woman.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a wry smirk. He lowered her feet to the grass mat, arms around her and gazed into her eyes. “I’m afraid I never considered myself much of a pushover either. Then you threatened to pound me with that can of bug spray, and I nearly collapsed.”
She contorted her face into a mock scowl.
“Could you be any more endearing?” He chuckled.
She couldn’t maintain a reprimanding air one second longer. Shooting to her tiptoes, she gave him a kiss of invitation. More a peck, but neither of them was willing to leave it at that. He hooked the nap of her neck, cradled it in his large hand and drew her in, claiming her mouth with tenderness.
Zero to sixty. The man was magic; the emotion in his kiss incendiary. Her stomach tightening in excitement, anticipation, and pure animal attraction, she ran a hand down the column of muscle along his spine.
Ending the kiss with a gentle nibble of her lower lip, he looked into her eyes, grasped her hand and walked her around the corner of the room divider. With a gentle tug, he motioned her to sit on bed’s edge. He walked to the nightstand. Back to her, she heard him open the drawer. Turning to face her, he held a handful of condoms like an expert blackjack dealer. Each packet was a different color, making the display artist, shiny and appealing as a bouquet.
“Feeling frisky?” she chortled, dropping back on propped elbows to the soft surface of the sheets.
”We’ve got all afternoon,” he answered in midnight tone.
She scurried across the mattress, grasping a shiny raspberry coloured packet.
His brows shot up in delight and he tossed the remainder to the surface of the nightstand. Before he’d completely turned to face her, he felt the soft scratch of her French tipped nails trailing down his back. It was as though an electric current sparked along his backbone, resurgence of lust causing his swim trunks to strain even tighter.
He froze in place as he felt her arms come around him, bikini clad breasts rubbing against the heightened sensitivity her nails across sun-warmed skin awakened. The islet material of her suit slid across his shoulder blades, the warmth of her mouth suddenly present at his ear. God….she ran her tongue along the outer shell.
Beyond hard and ready for her, he turned in her arms, snagging the spaghetti string dangling from her neck. “Let’s see what glorious creation lies under the pretty islet,” he rumbled. The elastic of the string stretched between his fingers as he yanked. Peeling her like a luscious grape he lowered one cup, then the other. The top dropped to her waist, hanging about her like a mini sarong.”
“Beautiful,” he said, eyes appreciating the curve of each mound. Raising his gaze to meet hers, he reached for her shoulder, leaning to bite her neck.
“Not so bad yourself,” She said freeing him of his swimtrunks as his kiss-swollen lips nibbled down her windpipe.
She dropped her head back allowing him complete access to her, palms flat, elbows locked behind her. A moan escaped her as he worked his magic, caressing, biting just hard enough to engender a pleasant pull, the sting of teeth against flesh.
He straddled her, powerful thighs one each side of her hips as he lowered her to the bed. A tug at her hand reminded her of the condom packet still wedged between her thumb and index finger. She closed her eyes as he lowered her. By the time she opened them again, he was rolling the magenta pink of the ribbed condom down the length of him. Lord, but the man was talented…endowed with equipment to compliment his six foot two frame. He raised his eyes to hers.
“Do I pass?” he smirked.
She sat up forty-five degrees, hooking him around the neck, pulling him on top of her. Soft giggle in his ear she whispered. “A plus”
The hardness of him now pressed against her stomach. Gentle teeth on his neck, she entwined her arms around him. The tension in his body was palpable, muscles stiffening as she bit along his collarbone.
He suddenly lifted as she felt his hands depress the mattress on either side of her; he pushed up. His eyes…Lord his eyes consumed her gaze like a starving man. Running his hands from her inner knees nearly to her sweet spot, she shuttered with pleasure, anticipation. Wadding the sheet in her hands, he lowered into her.
The sharpness of her nails dug into her palms through the fabric as she squirmed beneath the exquisite pleasure building inside her. Back arched further and further off the mattress as the tightness of her climax built into a wave rushing with the explosiveness of a tsunami. She thought she’d stop breathing as spasm after spasm cascaded through her. She tightened her legs around him in a vise of ecstasy.
As her body melted into the comfort of the mattress, she gulped at the air trying to recover. Opening her eyes to him straddling atop her once more, she met his gaze, now hotter than any man had the right.
“More where that came from love,” he growled.
“More,” she breathed out in seductive fodder.
His strong arms propped at each side of her shook as he pumped into her the last few strokes, quivering at his own mounting pleasure. One last push and he exploded; the low roar of ecstasy that rumbled from him deep and untamed.
Dropping to her side, they lye next to each other, panting. She felt his arm come around her, hooking at her waist.
“Chellie,” he breathed out.
Cuddling into his embrace she murmured, “Better than chocolate.”
****
The howler monkey hooed and hawed from the trees fifty feet above. Peering through the forest canopy, they found themselves playing peek-a-boo with a little round face partially obscured by a palm frond. Cameron pulled a harmonica from the back pocket of his cargo shorts. G to A to E minor, while keeping one eye focused on Chellie’s reaction. The monkey let loose with a halfhearted growl, revving his vocal chords as if testing Cameron’s resolve for two to play at this game.
He tried a few chords softly, then a bit louder, eventually landing on the first five notes of Erik Clapton’s “I Shot The Sheriff”. Face craned up to.
the canopy, he initiated a simple game repeating the same five notes only when the furry face showed itself and pausing the moment it hid behind a branch.
Muffled chuckling drew his attention to Chellie next to him. Hugging herself around the ribs, her lips were drawn taught in failing attempt at subdued mirth. An explosion of air finally escaped her startling the monkey above sending it swinging through the branches in mini Tarzan impersonation.
“Oh fine,” Cameron scolded. “Now you’ve done it.”
“She snorted out loud, shoulders shaking. “He’ll come back,” she reassured, still snickering.
“Maybe next week,” he scrolled eyes from the monkey’s retreat to her.
“Next week?” She questioned.
“The bloody zoo can wait,” He slung an arm around her. “The whole world can wait.” He drew her to him. “No need to rush.” Smiling down into her eyes, they walked together toward the sea.
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