Catch of the Year (10 page)

Tonight she lay sweetly against him. He could taste her at his leisure, kiss her until his whole body ached for her. Although his groin was sending urgent messages to get on with business, Paul held back, determined to savor these first magical minutes of intimacy, to allow the beautiful evening and their romantic surroundings to heighten the experience for them both.

But after a few lush, lingering kisses, their mounting excitement caused him to pause. He held her shoulders and looked down into her slumberous eyes.

“We're being a tad foolish here,” he whispered.

“We are?” Her words came on a soft breath. “Why?”

“I'm about ready to take this to its natural conclusion. How about you?”

“Oh yessss.” She gave a long, shuddering sigh. “Me, too.”

Her response made him groan. Trouble was, he hadn't come prepared for lovemaking out on the water.

“I mean, er … ” His voice was husky, a little regretful. “We don't want to set the boat rocking too violently, and the way I'm feeling now, I might not be able to exercise a whole lot of restraint.”

“So?”

“The thing is, it's precious to me. I don't want to get it wet.”

“I thought that was part of the idea.” She sounded confused.

Paul persisted. “You see, I got it from my dad.”

Pushing at his shoulders, she asked, “What exactly are you talking about, Paul?”

“My guitar, of course. What did you think?”

She giggled. A few chuckles rose in his throat, and then they were laughing together.

“Come back to the fishing shack with me,” he urged. “There's a small crescent of beach right in front of the cabin. We can build a fire there, just as you suggested, and lie on the sand and look at the stars.”

And make love
, both of them added silently.

During the boat ride back to the jetty, only the sound of the motor broke the silence. It's thrum surged between them, heightening the sense of expectation, keeping pace with the heated blood pulsing through their veins.

Before long Jade was sitting in the front seat of Paul's car. The convertible's top was down. Eyes closed, she relished the caress of the air on her skin, her senses so aware of the man sitting beside her and the unspoken promise that linked them. Although she was seemingly relaxed, her body clamored to feel his flesh, smell his scent, be closer to him, as close as it was possible to get.

She had the fanciful notion the whole world was waiting, waiting for them to be together, wrapped in each other, lovers at last.

Tires crunching on the dirt, the car swung off the narrow side road. Ahead of them lay darkness, the unknown.

They bumped along and rolled to a stop. Her breathing hushed, she undid the seat belt and stood up. Car doors slammed. Paul came to her side, and her desire for him flared, making her miss her footing and stumble.

“Careful.”

He put his arm around her shoulders, somehow conveying reassurance, yet making her yearn all the more as he guided her toward the cabin. There it stood, nestled under a stand of birch trees, visible now by the light of the moon. Here they would be completely private, just the two of them. Jade shivered at the tantalizing thought.

“Cold?” Paul asked, releasing her so she could go ahead, up the two, shallow, wooden steps.

Jade swallowed, her throat dry from desire. Maybe his was, too.

“I'm okay. Just thirsty, I guess.”

The screen door groaned as he opened it for her. She stepped into the main room.

“I've a bottle of white wine in the fridge. Want some?” he asked.

What she wanted was long and warm and male and standing right in front of her. She curled her fingers into her palms.

“Sure.”

This jumping-bones business wasn't quite as simple as she'd anticipated. To distract herself, she looked around at the log walls. A watercolor of the lake hung on the wall above the wooden love seat. Its cushions were covered by a linen fabric in a deep blue. On the floor, a rag rug enhanced the rustic theme.

“This is nice,” she said, watching Paul extract a slim green bottle. “Simple, but nice. I don't really approve of some of these fancy holiday mansions. You're inside and far away from nature instead of being at one with it.”

“A nature girl, are you?”

She was sure he wouldn't sound so friendly if he knew who she really was.

“Sometimes,” she agreed, her eyes on his hands as they dealt with the metal covering on the bottle top and then deftly extracted the cork. The golden liquid glistened as he poured the wine into the waiting glasses. What would it be like to have those long fingers touching her? She gave another tiny shudder.

Glasses in hand, they went back out onto the stoop. Paul scooped up the throw that covered the back of the chair and took her hand.

“Come,” he murmured, “let's go down to the beach.”

“Wait.” She pulled back, suddenly hesitant. “I want — I need — ” How to tell him she needed a moment to gather herself? He'd think she was having second thoughts.

“What do you need, Serendipity?”

Reacting to the husky rasp of his voice, she said the first thing she could think of. “ — to get rid of my shoes.”

With her free hand, she pried off the left one, then hopped on one leg. In her distracted state, she fumbled, not quite managing to grasp the strap of the right. She hopped some more and lost her balance.

Paul steadied her. “Here.” He gave her his glass to hold and knelt down. “Let me help.”

He took her foot in his hand, his fingers curling around her ankle.

“Moon and stars,” he commented, giving her tattoo a quick kiss. “How appropriate. Did you notice how brightly they're shining tonight?”

He freed the sandal strap and stroked her instep. His touch sent a rush of heat shooting through her, making her all the more unsteady. She lowered her foot and glanced up at the sky.

“I never cease to marvel how sparkly the stars are here.” The golden wine she held glinted with pinpoints of reflection.

Standing up, Paul shucked off his own shoes.

The grass prickled under her soles. On the beach, soft sand embraced her feet. Ahead the inky black lake stretched to the horizon, the water whispering as it lapped the shore. The night drew its velvet mantle over them. Birch trees stood silent, slender witnesses to the coming consummation.

Paul spread out the throw. Jade lifted her glass to drink. She'd only taken one swallow of the cool, tart liquid when Paul, his movements lithe, came to stand in front of her. He took a sip, set both goblets on a nearby log, and stepped forward. Reading his intent, her body responded, thrumming with the knowledge that he was about to kiss her, that this was the overture to the music they would make together.

Lips still moist and cool from the wine met hers, the pressure soft yet firm. Then the kiss deepened. Her eyes drifted shut as she opened to him. She tasted Paul, the flavor that was his alone. The incredible feel of his arms firmly enfolding her, the scent of his skin, the sound of his breathing enhanced the heat, drove up the temperature as their mouths blended. All thought of past intentions and future considerations vanished. This was too encompassing, too compelling to deny. Jade was far away, left behind in the city, and Dipity could risk it. Neither of them would deny her the drugging pleasure of this kiss, which grew ever more passionate and intimate. His mouth asked and hers responded, then hers sought and his offered, until she was rendered boneless with want, her body demanding further intimacy.

“Mmm,” he murmured, changing the angle of his head and drawing her closer, closer, until she pressed tight against his body — hard male muscles, the ridge of his arousal pressed against softer, willing, feminine flesh.

His fingers moved at the back of her waist, tugging until he freed her tee shirt from her pants. Then his hands, warm and strong and big, stroked upwards, spreading out, so that they rested on her shoulder blades. He pressed her closer into him and took her mouth in a different kind of kiss — wide and hungry. Eagerly she met his demand, her response flaming wildly through her.

She clutched at his back, her fingers knotting in the fabric of his shirt. With a gasp, he broke away.

Those artistic hands of his moved around, feeling for the fastening on her bra. They stilled for a second when they found it in the front.

“Mmm,” he murmured. It took one deft movement. The clasp opened and he peeled the fabric away.

Her brain shut down as her body waited for his touch, her breath coming fast and shallow. She heard Paul swallow. Any second now, she'd feel his touch on her bare breasts.

And then, finally, his warm, clever hands cupped them. He began to stroke, featherlight at first, making her shiver, increasing her sensitivity. He touched her more firmly, his fingertips pressing, squeezing her taut nipples. Pleasure and urgency surged, while molten fluid gathered between her legs. She moaned.

“More, Paul. I have to have more.” The words came from her throat, husky with desire. She lifted her gaze and saw his face, tense with his desire.

He stilled and took his hands from her body. They stood facing each other, feeling the tension, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

“I want you,” she whispered.

Their mouths met in a new kiss. It began slowly, tenderly, as if vows were being exchanged. But soon their blood became hotter, more demanding, driving them onward, swamping them with sensation as they shared and explored, all the while becoming more attuned to one another, more urgent.

Suddenly Jade needed to be naked, to shed the last barriers, to feel Paul's flesh against hers. With an impatient mutter, she crossed her arms, seized the hem of her tee shirt, and drew the garment up and over her head. Even before she'd freed her hands from the sleeves, he was all over her, his head lowered, licking, kissing, sucking, the moistness he left on her flesh cool in the night air. She held onto his shoulders, her fingers digging into hard flesh, letting her head fall back, surrendering to the erotic sensations.

His hands learned her curves, the dips and peaks and planes, as if he were already sculpting her. And she, with soft sighs and shuddering moans, slowly emerged from the waters of her dormant sensuality, Paul's arousing touch helping her surface.

Jade felt the joy of her skin, uncovered. Something amazingly exciting, freeing took hold of her, being naked outdoors. That was a Dipity reaction. Somehow the two parts of herself she'd always worked so hard to keep apart had now melded together. Just as it said in
Desiderata
, the poem Marigold had hanging on her bedroom wall, she was a child of the universe, the crown of creation, a powerful human being. A woman.

The tide of affirmation flowed through her. Now she would have this man, this man who turned her body to molten fire, who made her want him so urgently. She reached for Paul, hastily helping him off with his shirt, baring his chest even as his nimble fingers moved to the button at her waist. He quickly undid it and pushed the garments down. She stepped out of them. There was a hushed moment when he looked at her, his gaze sweeping down and then up. Standing before him, she read admiration and awe in his expression. Before reaching for her again, he flicked open the metal button at his waist.

She moved forward to draw down the zipper and hold him, stunned by the knowledge that all this male power would soon be a part of her — and reveling in it. He caught her to him, pressing her against him so that she was in contact with the warmth of his taut chest. Together they sank down onto the throw and stretched out to be embraced by the earth, while above them arched the midnight blue vault of heaven. Limbs entwined, mouths melded, they took their explorations further with approving murmurs, caresses, and kisses, until Jade writhed with need.

“Now, Paul. Please. Now.” She'd surely faint if he didn't fill her, make her complete.

Paul moved, poising himself above her. She opened herself to welcome him. He braced. Slowly, sliding silkily, he filled her, deeper, deeper, until at last they were fully joined. Then he stilled as if to savor this exquisite, defining moment of penetration.

A rush of delight coursed through Jade. This was incredible. She wanted to hold on to the moment forever. But something in her demanded she move, move with him, then counter to him. He set up a rhythm so that they each danced their own dance, and yet they were together.

Eyes closed, sunk in sensation, she surrendered completely, letting him take her where he willed. Higher and higher, deeper and deeper into delight, until a moan rose in her throat. She dug her nails into his back and urged him on, almost frantic with the driving urge for completion. And he obliged, surging into her until there, at last, was the opposite shore. Jade gave a shudder of ecstasy as the waves broke. Her inner convulsions throbbed around him, causing him to reach his own peak of pulsating pleasure.

Paul held still for a few seconds, then collapsed on top of her. They lay in each others' arms, holding on to the moment while gradually limbs and muscles relaxed, their bodies sinking into the sand, allowing the earth to be their cradle. All was quiet, hushed. Only the sound of long, satisfied sighs wafted on the air.

Paul rolled to one side but kept his arms around her. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought she was floating above the ground. She opened her eyes. Hanging low in the sky, the full, pearly moon glistened and glimmered. Around it she imagined shimmering beings of wonderful colors — emerald and magenta moving across the sky in great swathes of light. Perhaps she was having a psychedelic experience; perhaps that was the reason for the euphoria that filled her. Or maybe Paul's lovemaking was the cause of this incredible feeling.

She gulped, doing her best to absorb the sensations, not quite believing what had just happened. She'd always thought of sex as ordinary, a natural bodily function, never knowing it could be so much more, involve so much more. Something told her she'd just experienced the most wondrous encounter of her life.