Page 97 of Burning Caine
“This is remarkable. I didn’t know there were places like this on the Grand.”
She let go of my hand, sitting on the sand to open her pack, and pulled out several small bags. “Pick your poison. I’ve got trail mix, banana chips, and astronaut ice cream.”
“As much as I want to know what astronaut ice cream is…” I knelt next to her, placing my pack on the sand and pulling out a picnic blanket, which I spread for us to sit on. “And I know I told you to plan everything…” Next, I withdrew three stainless food containers and forks.
She lifted her bags of snacks, as if to complain that her menu was superior. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“Bella, you packed for survival training. I, however—” I withdrew a small bottle of wine with two plastic glasses. “—packed for a date.”
A frown creased her lovely face momentarily, as was her way, until a smile broke free. “More antipasti or more sweets?”
I opened each box, showing her the modest feast. “Pane e prosciutto with pesto, farro salad with tomatoes and pecorino cheese, and pears with gorgonzola.”
“And Chianti?” She settled next to me, picking up the glasses so I could pour the wine. “I haven’t tasted a bite, but I’m pretty sure this is going to be the best meal I’ve ever had hiking.”
We chatted and laughed over the food, as she rattled off each type of tree around us and pointed out different species of birds. Once we finished, we packed the boxes away, enjoying the last sips of our wine. She leaned back on her elbows, face up to the sun shining through the break in the trees.
I did the same. What a moment. Sitting on a private beach with my Samantha. Nothing more complicated, until a trickle of sweat ran down my back. Time to push her again.
“You know what we are missing in survival training?” I stood and pulled my shirt off. She hadn’t expected that, but the sharp intake of breath and wide eyes told me it was a good choice. I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them off, stripping to my underwear. “Swimming!”
Her hand covered her cheek, hiding the blush yet again. “I was only planning to come out here for the scenery, not for a swim.”
“Now, there is more scenery.” I waded into the water while she stared. “However, I think my survival instructor needs to join me or I may drown.”
Chapter 38
Samantha
Ifrozeandswallowedhard. His body was perfection. From his muscled shoulders to his washboard abs to the sharp angles of his astonishing hipbones, perfection.
He reached the middle of the river and dove under. If I’d seen this unfold for two other people, I would have called whoever was stuck on the beach a fool for not following him. But I just sat there, staring. If I went in after him, where else would it go? And was I ready for that?
For once, I let my first instinct win and stripped down to my sports bra and underwear, wading in and diving underneath. When I surfaced, he splashed me, a beaming smile lighting up his face.We swam together, chatting and joking for a half hour, cooling off from the hot mid-August day. When we returned to the beach, the sand stuck to everything, so we sat to air dry before getting dressed. I looked up at the trees and laid back, so happy he’d brought the blanket.
He lay next to me, and I squinted my eyes open, shading them from the sun. He propped his head on one arm, leaning toward me. The pose accentuated his muscled body, looking like he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself.We were all alone. No timer counting down the last few minutes of my lunch break.
His voice dropped to a low rumble. “Have you changed your mind yet, bella?”
My breath picked up at the depth of his voice, the words irrelevant. “About what?”
He reached a hand over to my face, running it along my cheek. My heart quickened at his touch, and I closed my eyes, focusing on his caress. And on not bolting.
“About never dating again.”
‘Yes,’ was on the tip of my tongue. But when I opened my eyes, they locked with his. The word wasn’t necessary.
“I’m a lucky man.” He brushed a wet hair back from my face, leaned over and paused, his hand still on my cheek. The corner of his mouth, no more than an inch from mine, twitched slightly. “But there’s no kissing in survival training, is there?”
I breathed with him, in and out, as he hovered there, and I stared into his big brown eyes. How did we go from him cheering me up after a bad date to…this? From me wanting to spend the rest of my days alone to him taking up space in my life?
I grabbed the back of his neck. He grinned and met me, our tongues sliding over each other’s, greedily, desperately, still tasting like the wine. Even better than our kiss in my truck. I wrapped my other arm around his back, delighting in the smooth lines of muscle and sealing my eyes to focus on every sensation. On the water splashing in the river, the heat of the sun, the sound of his low moans.
An intense hunger pulsed between my thighs; the same one I felt every time I was close to him as if his body were calling to mine. I’d imagined touching him but doubted it would actually happen, let alone be this incredible. I launched a leg over the small of his back, hooked it, and pulled him on top of me. Fluidly, he had himself between my legs, forcing me open, grinding his growing erection against my underwear. I lifted my hips to meet him, needing to remove the space between us.
One hand snuck under my bra, and he kneaded my breast as our mouths grew more urgent. When he squeezed so hard I whimpered, I felt him smirk.
“Molto bene, bella.” His voice reverberated in my chest, as though he was already inside me in more than a physical way. His hand explored along my belly, to the waistband of my underwear, and he ran a fingertip along it. “May I?”