sideways to more easily hold her.
“It’s warmer here,” she noted, voice still strained.
“Shallower, and less current flowing through. The sun warms the water. How’s your leg?”
“Pretty sore.”
He ran his fingertips along the back of her left calf, easily finding the bunched muscle. “Here?”
“Ouch. Yes.”
He rubbed the area experimentally with the pad of his thumb, zeroing in on the knot. She moaned, arms tightening around his neck.
“Helping?” he asked.
“Yes,” she hissed, pressing her face into his wet shoulder.
He massaged slightly harder, and she clung tighter.
“Stretch your toes up,” he instructed. “Arch your foot.”
She did as he asked, and he kept up the circular motion. He could feel her muscle begin to soften under his fingers, and she relaxed against his chest.
He knew he could stop anytime. He’d probably given her as much relief as he could for the moment. But he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to hold her against his body a little longer, or maybe a lot longer, maybe forever.
He stole a glance at her face.
She was gazing up at him, those huge green eyes soft in the dappled sunlight. Her lips were dark and full, rosy cheeks damp with water droplets. She had the thickest lashes he’d ever seen. He couldn’t believe a woman could possibly be this beautiful. She was like a spell, holding him enthralled.
The warm wind whispered against them, wafting the scents of pine and clover. The aspen leaves rustled above. The sound of the others’ voices blending away in the distance. Her skin grew warm against his own, and the noise of the water lapping around them seemed softer.
He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything so badly in his life. It was stupid and wrong and colossally risky. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He bent his head.
She didn’t shy away. In fact, she stretched to meet him. Their cool lips touched, flaring instantly to heat. His lips parted. Hers followed in turn. She was sweet as fresh honey, soft as dew.
His arms tightened around her, and he felt her body arch against him. He was instantly aroused, desperate to possess her. His tongue delved deep. Hers answered, and she moaned against his mouth, her hands tangling in his wet hair.
They were wearing practically nothing. It would be so quick, so easy, so intensely satisfying to strip off their suits and become one.
But faraway shouts penetrated his hearing, and he ruthlessly reminded himself where he was, who she was and what was at stake.
With a superhuman effort, he ended their kiss. Fixing his focus on the far shore, he dragged gulps of oxygen into his lungs.
“I’m sorry.” He glanced down.
Her sexy vulnerability was almost his undoing.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he told her sincerely.
She was silent for a long moment. “It’s complicated,” she finally whispered.
“It’s simple,” he returned, struggling to keep it light. “Fear and pain produce intense emotional reactions. Sometimes our bodies don’t know what to do with those emotions.”
“You think that’s what just happened?”
“I know that’s what just happened.” Not that it had ever happened to him before. Not like this, anyway. Her kiss had all but blown his mind.
She quirked a little half smile. “So, you’re not really a good kisser.”
“No better than average.” He found his gaze dropping to her mouth, and he recognized just how desperately he wanted to do it again.
“That was average?”
Steeling himself against temptation, it took him a second to answer. “Yeah. That was average.”
Her eyes took on a mischievous sparkle. “Then you must have a pretty fabulous sex life, Sawyer Smith.”
His gut clenched. “Do you always play with fire, Nellie Cooper?”
“I never play with fire.” She paused. Her expression going thoughtful. “I’ve never met fire before.”
Every muscle in Sawyer’s body was instantly taut. She was beyond good.