Deep Diving (2 page)

Holding the regulator in my mouth with the heel of my hand, and my mask tight to my face with spread fingers, I take the giant stride entry too. The cool water finds every way to enter the wetsuit and chill me. I surface, shivering. I give the okay signal to the boat.

Cooper has his regulator out of his mouth and speaks as soon as I turn to him. ‘All okay?’ After I nod, he frowns. His eyes squint and his nose crinkles behind the mask. ‘Are you cold?’

That he notices surprises me. That he asks, more so. ‘I’m fine. Just water seeping in.’

He chuckles a rich, delicious sound that makes me shiver for all the wrong reasons. ‘You should warm up soon, but let me know if you don’t and we’ll go back early.’

I nod, incapable of speech. He’d cut the dive short if I was cold? If that’s true, he’s going to be some buddy.

I signal that I’m ready to descend and he nods. My regulator is popped in my mouth and I give it a pulse of air. All working right. Then I expel air from my buoyancy control device. Fins pointing downward, we begin the slow drop into the mystical underwater world. The water is crisp and visibility clear. We watch each other as we make our descent. He smiles as I equalise multiple times, making sure my ears don’t hurt as the water pressure increases. The water changes to a bright aqua and then a deeper blue. It’s beautiful. The descent is easy and Cooper stays within my vision.

Eight metres later we reach the sandy bottom. In the time it takes for me to snort again to unblock my ears, lots of fish come out for the greeting, colourful wrasse darting around me, zooming towards my mask. I look over at Cooper, half expecting him to be gone but he’s there, his eyes dancing behind his mask as he plays with the fish.

We give each other an okay signal concurrently. He reaches out and taps against the wetsuit covering my forearm. I look at him, wondering what he wants. He crosses his arms and rubs his hands up and down his upper arms.
He’s cold?
Then he points at me, and turns his hand over asking the question. Smiling so hard my reg nearly pops out of my mouth, I shake my head and give an okay. I’m all warm now, even more so after he’s remembered to ask.

He indicates the rock shelf and when I give an affirmative, he swims off. His legs make slow kicks that propel him forward easily. Suspended in the deep blue, expelling few bubbles, he seems at home. I wonder how long he’s been diving. He looks comfortable. He turns his head and his body flips half over. Hand open again, he questions me — aren’t I coming? I kick off and swim beside him, almost tempted to lay my hand on his outstretched palm. I have a buddy who gives a hoot. An unexpected change.

When I reach the rock ledge, a loud exclamation spills from me. Nudibranchs, my favourite marine creature. They’re the most gorgeous slug-like creatures made beautiful by brightly coloured frills and squat spikes that flutter in the current. Even though they’re tiny, they catch my attention. I spend too long ogling them. Feeling guilty, I look around for Cooper and he’s there, about two metres away, examining nudibranchs and soft corals on the rocks. Fish dart around him as his fingers stir up sediment from the rocks. Like me, he doesn’t wear gloves and touches everything.

Beyond the large rock Cooper’s touching, a moray eel weaves its way from a rock cave. From where Cooper is, I don’t think he’ll be aware of the eel and I don’t want it biting him by mistake. I touch his arm and make an upwards weaving motion with my hand and point. He frowns, looks to where I pointed, then his eyes widen and he grins. He gives me an okay. He moves over the hole and then backs away. The moray edges upwards and peers around. We wait, watching the eel tentatively weave from its cave.

‘Beautiful.’ You shouldn’t be able to hear underwater but some people are clear, like Cooper. I distinctly hear him even through bubbles and water.

‘I know.’ I nod. Before we move away, I check my air gauge and show it to Cooper. He mirrors my action. We have about the same amount of air left, three quarters of a tank, so we should both be ready to finish the dive around the same time. It’s annoying to have a buddy who chews through their air and your dive is much shorter than expected because you have to return to the surface.

We keep exploring the rock ledge. No other divers are in view, it’s like we have the world to ourselves. It’s been a long time since I’ve been relaxed and comfortable enough with a buddy to spend time exploring the little things. Further along, Cooper stops and holds up his hand. I come up beside him. Suspended in the water I wait to see what has caught his attention. His arm moves slowly, his hand held into a decisive point as he directs my gaze to the left. I follow the line from his long, thick fingers but can’t see anything out of the ordinary. I know it’s nothing scary because Cooper is relaxed. But a part of me thinks he’d be relaxed even if it were a huge shark. He has a confidence about him. A competency and calmness that exudes, along with his warmth, beyond his wetsuit.

He turns to me and I frown, shrugging and holding my hands open in question. He smiles, eyes dancing again, and holds one hand flat in front of his chest, then draws the other hand in an arc over his hand.
A turtle?

I look again at where he pointed. Jagged rocks, waving corals. My eyes drift across and back, scanning to see it. I drop my gaze to the bottom of the ledge and there, tucked beneath a waving frond is a rounded rock, but not a rock. Too smooth to be a rock. I drift to the bottom and lie on the sand. The rounded rock pokes its head around and a dark eye stares at me, blinks once, and turns towards Cooper. Another blink. Lying on the bottom with our small drift of air bubbles racing to the surface, we pose no threat to it. With an ungainly flick of large flippers, it lifts from the bottom and drifts out before swimming across in front of us. It must be half a metre long.

‘Oh God.’ My voice holds such awe I wonder if Cooper can hear me.

As the turtle glides past, I caress the edge of its shell, shivering with excitement. Cooper’s large fingers brush against the shell alongside mine. I turn towards him, grabbing onto his arm, and I wonder if my eyes are as wide as his. I take my reg out and mouth a ‘wow’ before popping it back in to breathe. Cooper nods. ‘Amazing.’ Again, his voice is clear. This is the magical underwater world at its greatest. We watch the turtle swim away until we can no longer see it.

When the turtle’s gone, the rock wall, fish, corals, even the nudibranchs are almost dull. I check my air and it’s time to head back. I tap Cooper’s hand and show him my gauge. He nods; he has the same amount of air and it’s time to go.

We head back to the boat. At the chain for the buoy, Cooper and I ascend together. I can’t believe what an incredible dive it’s been. Even without the turtle I would have been impressed. It’s not often I score a buddy who’s perfect.

We break the surface with the same reaction, regulators spit from our mouths in the rush to speak.

‘Oh God, that was freaking unbelievable.’ At the same time Cooper says, ‘That was the best dive ever.’ We laugh. I’m bobbing on the surface in a bubble of magical happiness. I lie back. The clear blue sky is smattered with cotton balls of white fluff. It is a perfect day, a perfect dive, a perfect buddy.

Cooper has his fins off and tucked under his arm when he taps my forearm. I push my mask back and wipe my eyes.

‘You staying here all day?’ He nods to the boat. ‘They’re ready for us.’

‘Oh, sorry. You go up first.’ I lean down to slide my fins off while I watch him. He explodes from the water like a great dripping black god. I’m mesmerised. The way he effortlessly climbs the ladder and shucks his gear has me gasping for breath.

He vanishes from sight. Luckily, because I doubt I can climb the ladder with his body arresting my attention. Hell. He was hot before, but now he’s hot and a great buddy, which means so much more.

I drag myself up the ladder, feeling as if the wetsuit and tank have added 20 kilograms to my usual light frame. In the water, moving is effortless; on land I’m cumbersome with all the gear. I always think of penguins when I’m waddling out of a dive. They glide so effortlessly through the water but look ridiculous on land.

‘Here, pass me your fins.’ Cooper’s voice and his strong hands draw my mind away from penguins. Without looking up, I hand him my fins with my mask and snorkel shoved inside. I waddle onto the boat.

‘Thanks.’

I wade over to the air cylinder bench and plonk myself down. And here he is again, best buddy in the world, helping to remove my vest and air cylinder. We take our gear apart, and after I’ve blown air onto the plastic stopper and finished with the air cylinder, Cooper grabs it and secures it to the boat.

‘Thanks, Cooper.’ He gives me a wickedly sexy grin and I have to close my eyes and take a few deep slow breaths before I can look at him again. What was in that air? I went from perving to wanting to desperately needing within the space of a dive.

I head to the side of the boat where I stowed my gear, hoping it will give me some Cooper-free sanity. After a dive my mouth is like the bottom of a bird cage. The dry air saps all the moisture, so I always carry a couple of water bottles. I grab one and drink half of it in one go. As I pull it from my mouth a pang of guilt hits me. I had the perfect dive buddy, I should offer him a drink. I lean down to grab the other bottle when I feel the air beside me heat.

The heat could only belong to him. ‘Would you like a drink, Cooper?’ I ask as I close my hand on the second drink bottle and stand.

He licks his lips and I try not to follow the flick of his tongue, or drool over the shining gleam on his lips. ‘No, I’ll be right.’ I’m sure he’s only being polite.

I hand him my second, unopened bottle. ‘I always bring a couple. I hate the dry air feeling.’ He grabs it with a smile and a nod.

We lean against the side of the boat while we drink. I deliberately don’t look at him. I don’t want to see him swallowing. I don’t want to see moisture on his mouth. I don’t want to see his lips close around the top of the drink bottle. My imagination is doing a great job without needing the visual.

Truthfully, I want all those things. I want him. But I know a hundred Coopers. Men with muscles and looks can write their own tickets for women. Women fall over themselves to bed them, partner them, be seen with them. I won’t. Not any more. Cooper may not have the long, lean muscles I’m familiar with, but he’s the exact same breed and I need to stay clear.

I gulp the rest of my water, hoping it will stop me thinking of his mouth. ‘Thanks. I thoroughly enjoyed that dive.’

‘The moray was amazing.’

‘And the turtle. How did you spot him? He was incredible. I can’t believe we touched him.’

‘And you don’t wear gloves. You touch things?’

I have a strange feeling he means, girls aren’t meant to want to touch animals, although maybe that’s my issue being projected to his words. ‘I like to know what they feel like. I mean, I know how turtles feel at the aquarium but I want to know how they feel really, underwater. Is that crazy?’

‘Not to me. That’s what I want to know too.’ Mutual understanding. Amazing. I push my hair back from my face, running my fingers through the tangled curls, before twisting it into a loose knot to keep it out of the way. I keep it mid-shoulder length so it’s easy to tie up and away.

‘It’s hot and these guys will be a while.’ Cooper waves to the couple we’re waiting on who surfaced a fair way from the boat and are swimming back, taking their sweet time. He unzips his wetsuit and peels it from his shoulders down his arms. Five-millimetre thick neoprene does not mould and bend easily. It sticks to your flesh and grabs hold, needing an effort to peel it off, and he’s tugging hard to remove it.
Holy freaking hell
. His size is not bulk or flesh, but muscle, honed exquisite muscle. Everywhere. Tightly flexed with defined edges begging for my tongue to trace. Solid planes calling for me to lick across their surface.
Mercy
.

I was perving before the dive but I didn’t watch him gear up. Thank heavens! I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate knowing this was beneath the wetsuit. I hate to think what my expression is, so I scurry behind him on the pretence of helping him peel the wetsuit from his arms and back. But that’s a bad move, crazy bad move. My mouth, only just re-moistened, becomes drier than when I was sucking air during the dive. It’s difficult to breathe, almost as if each breath is snagged on the ripples of his back. I hold his wetsuit collar, trying not to touch his skin, as he struggles from the sleeves. My hands move down the wetsuit, helping him peel it off, following the body heat which radiates from the wetsuit and pours from his body. I react by flushing. My face is no doubt flaming crimson. Between my breasts, sweat pools.

His bulk shouldn’t have me melting. But he’s Wolverine solid.

And he’ll still have women falling all over him, Sam. The bulk makes no scrap of difference
.

‘Thanks, Sammy.’ His voice drags me from my lust-filled haze. His struggle ends and I drop his sleeves and step beside him. The top of the wetsuit hangs, clinging from his waist. If I keep to his side, surely the muscles won’t dance before my eyes, silently calling for my touch.
Sweet hell
.

I grab at my wetsuit zip and tear it down, before struggling to peel the wretched thing down my arms. As I’m wrenching the material down my left arm, Cooper grabs hold and peels it effortlessly from me.

My brain’s screaming ‘danger’ but I’m not listening. I’m reacting. Against my better judgement, I lean into his body while his heat surrounds me. I hold onto his waist as he struggles to pull the right sleeve off. My fingers tingle against the thick muscle that flexes and fills beneath my fingertips. I have seconds bathed in heat before I mentally restrain myself and drag my body away.

Holy freaking hell
. The heat from his hands, the expert way he moves me and the wetsuit in opposite directions until I’m divested of everything but my swimming costume, tells me he’s well used to undressing women. I’m not surprised.

‘Thanks. I never get good buddies like you. Someone taught you exceptionally well.’ I chuckle, knowing that I’m flirting but telling myself I can handle it.