sleep of her life. She opened her eyes. The gentle
pink of the early morning sky contributed to the feeling she was part of some
magical experience. Out of time, out of space. A dream, she thought. Best dream
ever.
She stirred.
And the warmth, the safety net that surrounded her, stirred too. And sighed.
The sound held a mixture of wonder and pleasure as Luke’s warm hand explored her
naked back, and pulled her even closer to him. They were so close that they
seemed like two halves of one being.
The memory of
what had happened crept in slowly, the terror mitigated by the warmth of Luke’s
embrace. She wondered if she had died in the river, and ascended to some
unearthly plane, where feelings were heightened and the joining of two bodies
was as natural as breathing.
Her hand
traced the strong lines of his face, trailing across the stubble of his beard,
until she felt his mouth. She slid a finger inside, exploring. Her breath caught
as he gently sucked her finger.
He took her
hand in his and ran his tongue along the outlines of each digit, running his
teeth over the tips and sucking tenderly. He ran her hand over his face, lightly
biting at her palm, tasting her and the river, and something close to bliss.
The kiss came
unexpectedly. Their lips touched, lightly at first, then deepened into
something which, although it was the first kiss, seemed practiced, timeless,
inevitable. It was a kiss that sent shockwaves through the body.
When they
could bear it, they pulled away from each other and looked. Stared, really,
into the eyes of a person each had known for less than twenty-four hours. As
they continued to look, there was no guile, no pretense, only an
acknowledgement of the growing passion which was taking control of them.
Now there was
no time for contemplation. There was only the exploration of bodies, the wonder
of discovery. And need. The desperate need to become one.
Luke’s mouth
found her nipples, explored them with his tongue until both stood erect. Fiona
was unable to control her moans of pleasure.
When he finally
entered her she was ready, shivering with desire and anticipation. His manhood was
hard but there was no discomfort, just the feeling of being whole at last. Once
inside her he seemed to grow and grow until he filled every soft crevice. She pushed
against him.
“Don’t move,” he
whispered.
“I have to,” she
gasped.
“Wait. Look at
me, Fiona. Stay with me. Don’t move.”
Her blue eyes
fluttered open. The look in his eyes startled her. It was not one of lust, but of
love. She forced herself to stay quiet. And then he was moving against her, and
they were in unison. Their feelings surged again and again, until finally they collapsed,
filled with ecstasy and joy, and the understanding that this was forever.
NINETEEN
Hayley
slowed her jog to a walk. Things were in such a tangle at the shoreline. If she
went too fast she could miss something. The colonel had said they might find shacks
tucked away in the woods by the shore, that there was everything in this river
from stripers to trout.
Hayley
shuddered as she watched the cold water surge and whirl, hoping her friends
were not in there as well. She walked on slowly, scanning the shoreline and the
cliffs. And that was how she spotted it.
It was caught
between two rocks in shallow water near the shore. The filmy piece of silk was
waving to and fro in the water like some exotic fish. But it wasn’t a fish. It
was the antique Hermès scarf she had bought for Fiona, in one of her Third Avenue
haunts, just after they had booked their first major party.
She knew she
should blow two blasts on her whistle but she just couldn’t do it. This was
part of Fiona. She wasn’t going to let it be shoved into some evidence bag, to
be fingered by God knows how many hands.
She waded into
the water and carefully loosened the scarf from the rocks. Had it ended up
there when Fiona crawled out of the river alive? Or had it been wrested from
her neck as
pink of the early morning sky contributed to the feeling she was part of some
magical experience. Out of time, out of space. A dream, she thought. Best dream
ever.
She stirred.
And the warmth, the safety net that surrounded her, stirred too. And sighed.
The sound held a mixture of wonder and pleasure as Luke’s warm hand explored her
naked back, and pulled her even closer to him. They were so close that they
seemed like two halves of one being.
The memory of
what had happened crept in slowly, the terror mitigated by the warmth of Luke’s
embrace. She wondered if she had died in the river, and ascended to some
unearthly plane, where feelings were heightened and the joining of two bodies
was as natural as breathing.
Her hand
traced the strong lines of his face, trailing across the stubble of his beard,
until she felt his mouth. She slid a finger inside, exploring. Her breath caught
as he gently sucked her finger.
He took her
hand in his and ran his tongue along the outlines of each digit, running his
teeth over the tips and sucking tenderly. He ran her hand over his face, lightly
biting at her palm, tasting her and the river, and something close to bliss.
The kiss came
unexpectedly. Their lips touched, lightly at first, then deepened into
something which, although it was the first kiss, seemed practiced, timeless,
inevitable. It was a kiss that sent shockwaves through the body.
When they
could bear it, they pulled away from each other and looked. Stared, really,
into the eyes of a person each had known for less than twenty-four hours. As
they continued to look, there was no guile, no pretense, only an
acknowledgement of the growing passion which was taking control of them.
Now there was
no time for contemplation. There was only the exploration of bodies, the wonder
of discovery. And need. The desperate need to become one.
Luke’s mouth
found her nipples, explored them with his tongue until both stood erect. Fiona
was unable to control her moans of pleasure.
When he finally
entered her she was ready, shivering with desire and anticipation. His manhood was
hard but there was no discomfort, just the feeling of being whole at last. Once
inside her he seemed to grow and grow until he filled every soft crevice. She pushed
against him.
“Don’t move,” he
whispered.
“I have to,” she
gasped.
“Wait. Look at
me, Fiona. Stay with me. Don’t move.”
Her blue eyes
fluttered open. The look in his eyes startled her. It was not one of lust, but of
love. She forced herself to stay quiet. And then he was moving against her, and
they were in unison. Their feelings surged again and again, until finally they collapsed,
filled with ecstasy and joy, and the understanding that this was forever.
NINETEEN
Hayley
slowed her jog to a walk. Things were in such a tangle at the shoreline. If she
went too fast she could miss something. The colonel had said they might find shacks
tucked away in the woods by the shore, that there was everything in this river
from stripers to trout.
Hayley
shuddered as she watched the cold water surge and whirl, hoping her friends
were not in there as well. She walked on slowly, scanning the shoreline and the
cliffs. And that was how she spotted it.
It was caught
between two rocks in shallow water near the shore. The filmy piece of silk was
waving to and fro in the water like some exotic fish. But it wasn’t a fish. It
was the antique Hermès scarf she had bought for Fiona, in one of her Third Avenue
haunts, just after they had booked their first major party.
She knew she
should blow two blasts on her whistle but she just couldn’t do it. This was
part of Fiona. She wasn’t going to let it be shoved into some evidence bag, to
be fingered by God knows how many hands.
She waded into
the water and carefully loosened the scarf from the rocks. Had it ended up
there when Fiona crawled out of the river alive? Or had it been wrested from
her neck as
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