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But being here, against his strong, lean body, she knew it was more than his goodness that drew her to him. She snuggled closer and pressed her small breasts to his side. The remembered wonder of him kissing and loving her bare bosom tightened her nipples to hard peaks. She slipped her hand up under the bottom of his shirt, and explored his smooth, warm skin. The muscles beneath her fingers were firm and strong, but it wasn’t a strength that frightened her.

His breathing hitched and changed. She looked up and encountered his gaze. The second moon shone down on them so she could see him clearly. Her hand continued its meandering exploration. She sat up and his hand slid off her back to rest lightly on her hip.

Using both hands and with his help, she pushed his shirt up and over his head.

He remained passive under her hands, but her fingers felt the racing of his heart. She ran her fingers along the carved seams where slabs of muscles overlapped other muscles. How had his shoulder ever dislocated with such strength to hold it in place?

She lifted her leg over his hips and sat on him to give herself better access to touch him.

Her rear pressed on the proof of his lust but he didn’t push up against her. His waist was so slim, his ribs as pronounced as her own, how dare he call her skinny?

He touched her cheek and then slid his hand into her hair. It still hung unbound down her back and over her shoulders. He picked up one long strand and tugged it gently. She let him pull her head down to his.

The kiss was cautious on his part, but as soon as their lips met heat exploded out from her middle. She sucked on his lip and clamped her hands on both sides of his head. His mouth opened at her demand and received her tongue. What ever wariness had slowed his first response fell away and his tongue and mouth joined her erotic play.

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She broke from the kiss and sat up straight. His hands wandered to her hips and stayed there, neither holding nor caressing her. His erection was a thick rod between her legs but barred by their clothing. It felt … interesting. She wiggled.

He inhaled sharply and grimaced. Was she cruelly teasing him? She started to slide off of him, but his hands tightened on her hips.

“Don’t

go.”

She gave into his plea against her better judgment, but she didn’t want to go yet. She leaned forward for another kiss. His hands roamed her hips and behind, fluttering to the front for a moment and then away. Soon his hands touched her more insistently. Somehow the laces of her pants were undone, and his clever hands worked their way inside to touch her skin.

She shivered and not with cold or fear. The calluses on his fingers and palms drew delightful, random patterns of pleasure on skin untouched by human hands. When he lifted her hips and pushed her pants down her thighs, she rose up to help him. She settled on top of him again, his pants rough against her inner thighs. The texture of the material jolted strangely sensitive nerves around her opening. Her body wept hot liquid onto his clothing.

His hands rested on her hips for a moment while he took some deep breaths. His lips were pressed tightly together as if something pained him. She rubbed her hands on his chest.

His hesitation held back her fears. It was him trapped beneath her and at her mercy.

He spread his fingers and lightly ran his hands along her thighs and back again to her hips. And then again and again. Each time his thumbs brushed closer to the damp curls between her legs. Soon she could think of nothing except whether he would touch her or not. Touch her there.

Then one of his thumbs touched the hard, throbbing nub at her center. How did such a light, quick contact make her gasp? The sensation was foreign to her every experience. His other thumb touched her in that wonderful spot but with more pressure. She whimpered with the sheer agony of the pleasure. His hand stayed.

His fingers feathered across that bundle of nerves. Unbearable. She pressed her hips down toward his hand. He gave her what she wanted. How could a part of her body that had been the center of so much agony and humiliation now be the key in boundless pleasure? Her body felt light and free. Free to indulge herself with him.

He moved his fingers in long, easy strokes from her nerve center to across her opening.

Each pass of his touch ventured ever deeper into her folds. His other hand, resting on her hip, urged her to move and meet his strokes. She rocked slightly and drew his finger inside. Her breath hitched but not with the panic she expected. They caught onto each other’s rhythm as if they’d done this countless times.

His hand left her hips and dipped between her legs, but only to work on the laces of his pants. He lifted his hips slightly and pushed his pants down enough to free his penis.

She tensed. The time had arrived. No matter the lust filling her, she could not let him mount her. Not even the magical wonder of his fingers could convince her to accept his weight.

But he didn’t roll over and turn her beneath him. He put one hand back on her hip and urged her back into the lovely, erotic rocking. His penis brushed her opening instead of his thumb. But his thumb again teased the bundle of nerves between her wet folds.

Tension of a different sort built within her. He changed the angle of his hips and his penis slightly parted her folds. Then he put both hands on her hips and lifted her slightly. His penis slipped inside her, stretched her, filled her and didn’t hurt at all.

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He stopped all motion, and the quiet night settled around them. His eyes glinted at her and his chest heaved with his effort or was it emotion? Her heart raced as if she’d run for miles.

“All right?” he asked in a low, strained voice.

She was, but she didn’t answer with words. She moved her hips and his penis slipped further inside her. His jaw clenched and his hands tightened on her hips. The next time she moved, he used his hands to direct her. Soon they found a concert of movement that created an anticipation and tension that stole her breath. He shifted his hand so his thumb again could touch her center.

Her hands rested lightly on his ribs, but now she needed to grab onto him. She flew away, off the ledge and into nothing and everything. Sensations overwhelmed her senses and brain and nothing mattered but him. She could only ride him faster, take him deeper and hold onto him. Every part of her body went tight and then tighter. He groaned, but his body moved beneath her. Not that she would have allowed him to stop. She moved even faster.

Then the tightness would wind no further. It broke apart, shooting arrows of drugging glory from where his penis touched her upward to her breasts, downward through her thighs and most especially to where his thumb pressed against her.

His hips stopped their movement, and his hands held her tight against him. He groaned as if in deep pain, his head thrown back and his eyes clenched closed. Another small cascade of pleasure arrowed through her, more gentle than the first but just as lovely.

He went limp beneath her except for his hands. He took her by her shoulders and pulled her down across his chest. His lips met hers in a kiss different than any they’d shared before.

There was no teasing of tongues, only warm lips communicating a soft emotion of completion.

Her throat went tight. She laid her head on his shoulder, and his arms went around her.

It seemed a time for words, but she didn’t know what they were. His fingers traced small circles on her back beneath her shirt and relaxed her even more. Their bodies were no longer physically joined, but he had now had some part of her unclaimed before by a man. And she had some part of him that was more than his seed deep inside her. And the exchange of pieces of themselves had occurred without fear.

“I didn’t know it could be done that way,” she said against his warm skin.

His chest shook with quiet laughter. “After that, I’m not sure it should be done any other way.”

She smiled back though he couldn’t see it. He reached out with one hand and flipped her blanket over them. He eased her to his side but kept her in his arms. She wanted to think about it, the pleasure and the physical means through which she’d found it. She wanted to ask him if it was always so between men and women. No wonder Juston and Katerina were so happy together. But the warmth of his body and the limpness of her satiated body would not be denied.

She dreamed of him.

ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 58

Brady took the water bag to the creek to fill it before Cara woke. The sun already threw a blinding glare across the restless sea. He stared at the frothing whitecaps. Was this a particularly rough stretch of beach or were the waves more murderous than usual?

The tree line grew within a few hundred steps of the sea here. They could use another sea shell to cook in as their first one was becoming thin and brittle with repeated heating.

He turned from watching the sea and headed back toward camp. They should make the decision together. It was a risk to make tracks in the sand only a long day’s distance from the Savages’ home. She would be happy he’d waited to speak with her and making her happy was paramount in his thoughts.

Smiling to himself, he soundlessly whistled a tune. His quiet stealthy movement through the trees paid off. A large game bird, a strange unknown species, pecked at the leaf litter only twenty steps away. He didn’t know what is was called, but its breast was full for so early in the spring. It would make a feast.

He slipped the leather thong from the trigger of his gun, and with even more care, slid the gun free. The small weapon was quite accurate at short distances, but it took a skilled shot to hit it where the best meat wouldn’t be ruined. The fowl looked like it had layers of fat they could use to flavor and fry some of the grain. His mouth watered at the thought.

Some wild instinct warned the bird as he leveled the gun. It unfurled its wings and took flight. His shot took it at the base of its neck. It dropped awkwardly into a small stand of green bushes. He crawled through the wiry growth and pulled it out. It twitched still, a few nerves that didn’t yet know it was dead.

He cleaned it while standing in the middle of the bush. Cara was going to be thrilled.

The bushes tugged at his clothing as he fought his way out to the open area under the bigger trees. He used his knife to cut a sturdy limb to use for hanging the bird over the fire. It would take most of the day to cook it, but what a meal it would be.

He reloaded his gun from the spares he carried in a small sack on his gun belt and started back to camp again. The last day may have been the best of his entire life and now here he was bringing a meal home for his woman. Only the day before he’d been walking this same path and wondering how he could repair his fragile relationship with Cara. But nature had taken over and brought them together when they were both too wary to try.

Even in his euphoric mood, he heard the quiet snap of a twig in front of him. He ducked behind a tree and set down the game bird. Another footfall, closer this time. He drew his knife.

His small gun was unlikely to stop a fully, grown, Savage male with one shot, and engaging one with a knife was not something he wanted to do.

Whatever approached was careful. It came slowly nearer, the only noise a slight scuffling of its feet. Soon it would see him despite the size of the tree he hid behind. He drew his sword and sprang into the open.

Cara’s sword pointed the width of a hand from the center of his chest. The blade stayed steady and lethal. He lifted his stare from it to hers, and found her glare sharper than her weapon.

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“Cara.” Maybe she hadn’t thought last night so wonderful after all. Perhaps the light of day had given her a different perspective.

“Did you fire your gun?”

“Yes, I …. ”

“Were you under attack and about to be killed?”

“No, I …. ”

“Was it your intention to call an attack of Savages down upon us?”

“There’s no sign they come this far from their village and I’m sure we’re far enough away that they wouldn’t have heard it, but I …. ”

“Then was your intention to scare me halfway to death? Was your intention to make me worry? Send me running to your rescue?”

“Were you worried about me?”

“Hell, yes. How can I climb back up to camp by myself? Who’s going to catch those creepy sea bugs? I’d starve before I’d chase down the little bastards.”

He tried a charming smile, but her expression didn’t ease. Backing up two steps, he reached behind the tree and retrieved dinner.

Her hard gaze flicked to the bird. “You risked our lives to shoot a chicken?”

“A chicken? Look at it. We’re going to eat like we’re in town tonight.”

“Is your stomach all you think about? You go in that killer sea to hunt crabs, you sneak into a Savage village to steal nuts, and now this.”

He moved forward cautiously and pushed her blade aside. She resisted only for a moment. He moved close enough to lean down and kiss her, slow and deep. She lifted her free hand to touch his cheek.

He lifted his head and tried the charming smile again. “My stomach isn’t all I think about. I’m not thinking about it at all right now.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I noticed you didn’t drop that chicken though.”

He laughed and turned her back toward the camp. She sheathed her sword and found his hand with hers. And that was better than roast chicken.