Deep Diving (21 page)

‘Oh, and I didn’t sound like that?’

He holds up a finger and thumb a few centimetres apart before giving me his trademark grin. ‘Only a tiny bit.’

I swat his bicep, my anger dissipating quickly. One stupid grin and I weaken. How bad am I? ‘Are you saying I was skiting?’

He chuckles. ‘Only enough to lure me into wanting you.’

Laughing, I swat his arm harder. ‘I did not lure you.’

‘You did so. Everything you do is alluring.’

‘Oh, like the wolf-whistle you hated.’

He leans right over me, his chest brushing against my nipples, his breath skimming across my neck. ‘No one’s ever wolf-whistled me before.’

‘Are you kidding?’ I’m laughing and I can’t tell if he’s serious or joking.

‘I never kid.’ His lips nibble at my neck, along my collarbone up to my shoulder, then along my ear and jaw. I lean into him. Concentrating on the wet heat he’s trailing across me. The cool air of the room drifts across the damp trails, making me quiver. He reads this as arousal, and I am in no position to argue. All my worry vanishes in my haze of lust.

We’re still hot and sweaty from the day and the run home but the sweat only increases my arousal. His scent is strong, filling my mind with only him. My body slips against his. My arms slide freely around his neck. I drag my hands down his damp T-shirt and then struggle to pull it over his head without losing contact with him.

It’s impossible to undress and kiss. We break apart and clothes fly. Then we’re together again, slithering against one another, tasting and touching. He presses me against the wall and I climb his body trying to be in a position to take him inside me. It’s hot and completely heady. His cock presses hard between my thighs and I rock over the head waiting for his surging entry thrust but he holds off. A second too long.

‘Coop?’ All my frustration comes out in his name.

He just grins and holds me still.

‘Forgetting something?’

I stare at him. Nothing comes to mind except the pounding need for him. I squirm again. And stop.

‘Oh my God.’ A chill slides down my spine. ‘Oh, thank God you stopped.’

Cooper puts an arm under my butt and holds me clinging on to his hips. ‘Stay there. I can grab one. Just don’t squirm.’

I can’t believe I didn’t remember safety. I’ve never done that. Or not in the last 20 years, anyhow. I tip my head back as self-recrimination hits.

‘Don’t you dare leave me.’ Cooper’s words are punctuated with a tongue licking across my nipple, first one then the other. ‘That’s better.’ He moves and I lean to help, pulling out the condom and holding it for him. He sheathes himself.

‘I can’t bel—’

His mouth on mine cuts off any more words. Again I’m pressed to the wall and his cock presses for entry. But my mind, with all its worries and doubts, has kicked in and Cooper seems to know it. He takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks, biting, flicking, extending the tender flesh between tight lips. His hands hold my hips tightly, thumbs digging in hard, directing my hips in a slow rolling movement while his mouth feasts on the other nipple. My brain turns to lust and his cock surges inside me. I arch, cry out, then drop against his hips trying for deeper or harder or more. Something.

It’s fast and hard but slower than this morning’s efforts. And somehow, even in all the fury and haste, there’s emotion I haven’t felt before. A togetherness, the sort I’ve never experienced and so can’t identify. Maybe it’s just that we peak simultaneously, with no effort at all. That we fly at the exact second without waiting or coaxing. The synchronicity amplifying my orgasm so that it’s harder, stronger, deeper and more shattering. And leaves me lying limply over his shoulder.

I’m lucky that Cooper doesn’t weaken. He strides to the shower with me still attached. The spray hits me hard and I leap. His cock comes free and he discards the condom before gently lowering me to the floor. Then he washes me with a tenderness that almost breaks me. He shampoos my hair, and holds me close while he washes himself. Then he bundles me against his huge chest, holding me close and pressing butterfly kisses across my face. He dries me and wraps me in a towel, sitting me on the ledge to wait while he dries himself.

Once we’re both dry and clad in towels, he lifts me to his chest again and carries me to the bed. He sits on the edge but doesn’t release me. His hand skims my hair. His lips press against my temple.

I know I should move or speak or make some action, but nothing feels right. Nothing except sitting here wrapped in Cooper. My hand rests against his chest. Not moving, just being. I’m content. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. I don’t want to be with anyone else but him. The little opening in my heart now gapes wide, like magpies singing at dawn.

For my last full day, Cooper’s hired a double sea kayak for us to paddle out around the island, or in the lagoon if it’s too rough outside.

My smile must be a mile wide. ‘I can’t believe you thought of this. It’s perfect.’

‘There’s one thing though.’ I turn in query and he grins. ‘I get to be at the back.’

I laugh and wave him towards the rear. ‘Control freak.’ It doesn’t bother me where I sit, though sitting behind Cooper watching his muscles flex would have been a treat.

We don life vests, take waterproof bags of lunch and necessities, and slip into the kayak. We’ve both paddled before but it’ll be interesting to see how we manage together.

Once we get going, I don’t know why I even thought there’d be a problem; we paddle together like we’ve been doing it for years. Cooper must be matching my strokes because there’s no clash of paddles, just smooth gliding across the water.

‘Are we heading out round the island?’ I ask once we’ve settled into a rhythm and are heading towards the edge of the lagoon.

‘I’d like to. It’s calm and the forecast is good. It should be like this all day.’

‘Awesome, let’s go.’

From the lagoon, we paddle to the south-west towards the mountains. The water is crystal clear. We stop paddling to gaze at the bottom of the water, watch fish and the occasional small reef shark or turtle. We drift along in the current for a while. It’s peaceful.

In the shadow of Mount Lidgbird is Little Island, a large, rugged rock covered in stunted plants and sea birds. It’s nature at its rawest and harshest. Hard rock to grow on and heavy salty air to live in. ‘This place amazes me.’ My voice is all breathy and whispering.

We start paddling again when the ocean current swirls us in a new direction.

‘So, Coop, what does it feel like to represent your country?’

While we paddle, he fills me in on all I missed in our previous conversation. It’s a balm to my soul to hear more about his personal life.

The slopes below Mount Gower are forests of palms and banyans. Bright green against the black basalt rock. It’s beautiful. Not going anywhere. Solid. Safe. Kind of like Cooper.

We’re talking about our achievements and wins when Cooper says, ‘I value my club wins, my state wins, but when you win for your country in a tough, close international game, I think that’s the greatest achievement you can ever have.’

I can only agree. ‘Nothing compares to standing there with your country’s honour resting on your shoulders.’

‘Is it a heavy burden when you’re competing on your own?’

‘Never. It’s a privilege. Something you’ve worked towards. Something you’ve earned. The thrill is immense.’

‘It’s the same for me. Being selected as an Australian team member is such an achievement and running on in that jersey, I can’t put words to how it feels.’

We keep paddling and chatting. The rhythmic strokes come naturally to me. I stare at the beauty of the mountains towering straight up from the sea. The sunshine sparkles across the tiny wavelets, like shimmering diamonds. The sun warms me, as does our conversation. I’m relaxed and happier than I have been in a long time. Sharing our experiences is more than heart-warming, my whole being is filled.

I know a lot more about Cooper the football player. A side that he’s not shown before. I’ve seen his competitive nature, but not learned his love of the game, the hard work he puts in to be at his peak, the sacrifices, injuries, concerns, and camaraderie shared.

It isn’t a one-sided conversation at all. He asks as much about me as I do him. It’s refreshing to find someone who shares a conversation and listens as well as talks.

When the conversation naturally wanes, we paddle in silence for a good distance. The peaks no longer loom over us as we round the southern tip. A rocky island appears on the right covered in white splotches and sea birds.

We paddle around the southern tip and along the eastern side. A large scree-covered slope dominates the edge of the island. Palms and dense vegetation make a thick green blanket over the foot of the black mountains.

We talk of family, friends, life. Random topics that come to mind. Tidbits of information. It’s easy and fun and light, but dear Lord, I want him. I’m learning about his mind and I love that but I still want his body. Again.

We glide past a peninsula, thin and angular jutting from the island. As we round it, large red rocky outcrops dot the northern side.

‘Do you reckon there are any secluded beaches along here?’

Cooper laughs. ‘Is the paddling too much action for you, Sam?’

I chuckle. Hopefully sexily. I don’t want to admit my lust out loud.

We paddle past another tight point. A few islands are off to our right, and I wonder if the islands have beaches. They look too rocky and craggy. I glance ashore and spy a strip of sand.

‘There’s a beach.’ I exclaim it as if it’s momentous. ‘Will we go have a look?’

Cooper chuckles. ‘Just a look?’ I guess my over-enthusiasm tips him off that I’m after more than a look at the sand.

I turn and flash him a grin. ‘Yeah, just a look.’ Sarcasm drips off each word.

We head towards the strip of sand, pale against the lush vegetation. When we’re close to the beach, the bottom of the kayak scrapes over submerged rocks. At first it doesn’t matter, we can see the darkness of them in the water and paddle around them, but soon the entire water seems filled by submerged rocks and I can’t determine their depths.

‘If we got out, we could probably float the kayak in over the rocks.’ It’s the only way I can see us getting to the beach intact.

‘And how do we get out without capsizing?’ He has a good point. It doesn’t take much to tip these.

‘If we each got our legs out and sat astride, then faced out and slid off at the same time we’d be right, wouldn’t we?’

‘Except I weigh about twice what you do.’

I chuckle. ‘I’ll think heavy.’

‘You really want to go to the beach?’

I turn my head, and my eyes stretch wide open. I flick my tongue across dry lips. It’s the secluded beach we’ve been looking for the whole time and he’s questioning going in. Have I lost my touch?

He laughs. ‘Forget I said that. Get your legs out.’

We wriggle, rocking the kayak vigorously, until finally my feet are dangling in the water each side of the kayak.

‘Left or right?’ he asks.

‘I’ll go left. That okay?’

‘On three we’ll swing to our side. You think heavy. We’ll hold there and check the water before sliding in.’

With much laughter, a lot of kayak rocking and water splashing, we’re in the water and heading to the beach, dodging rocks and tugging paddles and the kayak between us. We drag the gear up the beach so the rising tide won’t leave us stranded.

‘Do you reckon we’re the only people here?’ I scan the beach, the ocean, and the rainforest behind us. There appears to be no one anywhere around. No tracks lead onto the beach through the forest, well, none I can see. Unless a boat comes along, or a plane, we should be alone.

‘Looks like it’s just us. So what’s your plan?’ Cooper asks.

‘Plan? I have no plan.’ I do, but I’m not admitting it. My plan isn’t fancy; I want sex.

‘And if I have a plan?’ His shiny eyes seem to dance as his grin slips from knee-weakening to completely carnal.

My stomach lurches. Boy, am I glad we detoured to the beach. ‘If you have a plan, then I’m all for it.’ I grin, hoping to keep my tone light instead of revealing the lustful longing that’s coursing through me.
Hell. What kind of plan is it?

Cooper flicks his chin up and his head gives a bit of a nod. I wonder if he’s trying to invent a plan or if he already had some idea. Maybe he’s worried about how I’ll take it. My lungs freeze mid-breath. Last time he wanted clean-skin sex and I freaked.
Oh God, please don’t let me freak this time
.

I suck in a breath and his eyes dilate as he stares at the small frills on the edge of my bikini top. The tiny hairs on my arm quiver as if a breeze has blown across them. My spine tingles. My stomach clenches and deeper inside, my womb does a kind of barrel-roll and juices seep into my cunt.
Fuck, he could make me come with his gaze
.

‘Cooper.’ My voice is strained and his name comes out in at least three disjointed syllables. ‘What’s the plan?’

He takes a breath and I can’t tear my stare away from his stomach muscles bunching and releasing. The way his chest lifts and falls, and his tight nipples. It feels like he’s breathed the breath out of me.

‘I want to watch you.’ Said so simply, his deeper, aroused voice slips across the wettest part of me as if it’s his finger sliding along the slick folds. I shudder from my toes to my scalp. I don’t need any more direction. If he wants to watch, I can give him a show.

I reach behind for the string on my bikini top but before I can untie the bow, he stops me.

‘Not like that. I want a triathlon.’

My hands drop to my hips and I stare at him. ‘You want me to swim, bike and run?’ The unspoken words are ‘instead of sex?’ but I don’t need to utter them as my tone surely implies it.

‘Yes. I’m going to lie in the shallows where there are no rocks and I want you to swim around me. Then I want to watch you cycle where the tide laps, and run down the beach so when I catch you, you’re wet and hot.’ His words shouldn’t be sexy. His idea shouldn’t be arousing. But I’m breathy, wet and wanting.