Steve was downstream a bit farther, investigating the most likely spot for them to spend the night, and she took advantage of his absence to lay down on a warm, mossy rock in the sun. There was something so sensual and free about being totally naked, and she closed her eyes against the glaring light beating down.
It had been far too long since she had enjoyed such freedom; Nassau, perhaps, when she had discovered the bathing pool surrounded by palm, pomegranate and orange trees, a veritable paradise. She stretched languorously. Perhaps her skin would tan to a peachy gold color again if she lay here long enough. What would Steve say when he came back and found her like this?
She almost laughed at the thought of his face, then thought that he would probably strip off his own clothes and join her. He’d looked hot, dusty and tired, but determined to find a place he deemed safe to spend the night. Why could they not stay here, by the pool?
Oh, she really was entirely too much of a sensualist, for she was certain she could go about without clothes all the time if it wouldn’t shock everyone who knew her. Wasn’t it true that Benjamin Franklin had been what they called a freethinker, preferring to sit in his own parlor as naked as the day he’d been born? Of course, men could get away with doing such things and not be regarded by society as loose. Eccentric, perhaps, but not immoral.
But then again, Franklin was known to enjoy many ladies in his time, though public record did not chronicle opinions of his habits. Ginny thought she would probably have liked him for his autonomy of spirit, if for no other reason.
It was so pleasant, being lulled into tranquility by the rushing sound of water and the heat of the sun on her body. Her breasts were warm, the nipples tightly beaded. It was strangely arousing to lie beneath the sky in such abandon.
Droplets of water spattered on her belly and thighs, and over the noise of the waterfall she heard Steve say, “You look like a virgin sacrifice.”
She smiled blindly, relishing the damp heat that rose from the rocks, arching upward when she felt Steve’s hand on her belly, then her breast. It was exquisitely erotic, lying atop the rock while he stroked and caressed her, her eyes closed as she gave herself up to pure sensation.
His hands moved over her leisurely at first, touching her with familiar assurance, palms spread over her ribs, then testing the cushion of her breasts, his skin abrasive enough to send delicious little shivers through her at his caress. With the heat of the sun on her bare body and the stroke of his hands along her thighs, then between, Ginny felt wanton, a purely sexual excitement throbbing inside her, turning her blood to liquid heat and her flesh to malleable clay in his hands.
He molded her, hands clever at finding the spot that elicited the most intense response, fingers sliding over her mist-dampened skin with unerring accuracy. The moss beneath her was a soft, fragrant cushion. Sunlight was displaced by the heat of his hands as he skimmed her thigh, up to the crevice between her legs. His thumb found her in a heady, potent kiss across her quivering center, and her hips arced up into his hand.
“Keep your eyes closed, Ginny,” he murmured when she started to open them. “Don’t think. Don’t talk. Just feel.”
The steady, loud collapse of water plummeting from two hundred feet above was a constant roar in her ears, the air alive with a damp mist that permeated muscle and bone. His hand moved, his thumb an erotic friction across the aching, melting heart of her until the heat of the sun coalesced into a blinding white flame to ignite a shuddering release that swept through her like wildfire and left her boneless, drained as she reached out for him.
“Oh God, Steve…”
Her hand encountered bare flesh, fingers finding old scars on his back, sliding up over taut muscles and smooth skin to curve around his neck, tangling in the crisp dark hair that was slightly damp.
“You drive me to distraction, Ginny. I should have known I’d come back to find you as naked as a woodland nymph.” His laugh was rueful, swallowed as she pulled his face down to hers to kiss him deeply.
“I could live like this,” she murmured dreamily, eyes still closed against the light. “I’d love nothing better than to go naked all the time.”
“You should live in the Pacific where there are islands filled with people who wear little or nothing, then. I’m afraid we’re too civilized, even out here.”
She opened her eyes the tiniest bit as he straightened, raked a hand through his hair and glanced around them. Then her eyes widened slightly.
When had he taken off his clothes? She watched through slitted eyes as he loomed above, silhouetted against sunlight, a dark golden god with an aura of light behind him, familiar and beloved. He was the only man she had ever loved so passionately, ever risked her life for, or would again if necessary….
Her throat ached suddenly, with love and yearning, and all the things she wanted to say. Reaching up, she lay her palm against his lean jaw as he gazed down at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, the lashes making long shadows against his dark skin.
“I don’t want this moment to end, Steve. I wish we could stay here forever—oh, I don’t mean abandon our children, of course, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay a little longer, at least?”
Instead of replying, he scooped her into his arms, startling a gasp from her as he carried her from the rock to the edge of the pool that seethed with lacy froth.
She thought for a moment he intended to drop her, but as a protest formed on her lips, he stepped
