Page 45 of Only the Wicked
“Stay in!” I shout.
I don’t want to miss this.
I finally get everything off, leaving the clothes in a pile and charge forward, leap into the air, knees high, and cannonball into the water, splashing water from the center to the edge.
The chill burns and I tilt my head up, propelling upwards. When I reach the surface, I swipe at my face, clearing water from my eyes in time to see her bare bum scrambling up the rock.
Holy fuck. I’m going to fall in love with this one.
The thought comes out of nowhere, but it buries itself in my bones, in my core, in my soul.
She stands on the boulder. Her toned body is sensational and judging from the way she stands there proudly, high above, she knows it.
I wish I had my waterproof camera because I want these photographs forever. But there’s no need. Sydney beaming at the top of the boulder, naked, and radiant, imprints in my mind.
And then she jumps with a yell that sends a few birds flapping through the branches.
Once again, the water claims her as ripples speed to the edge. I search the water, seeing her dark shape, my legs kick, churning the water, keeping me upright.
Where is she?
And she’s up, right in front of me, grinning, as free and happy as I felt decades ago.
Our laughter floats around us, shaving years, placing me back in time, or no, it’s nothing that sci-fi. I’m still a forty-one-year-old workaholic without a life. But at this moment, my younger self has emerged. He didn’t die. I just buried him during my quest.
My arms loop around her and I pull her to me. The contrast of her warm body against my chest and the cold water swirling around our lower halves creates a disorienting sensation. Her skin is silky smooth against mine but covered in goosebumps that I can feel under my fingertips. The water creates a buoyancy that makes her feel almost weightless in my arms. She extends one arm, sending a spray of water as I spin her around.
“You do it,” she says, breathless.
“What?” Her perky nipples press into me and, yes, there are things I would definitely like to do.
“Jump,” she urges.
I laugh, stretching towards the edge. I scramble up the boulder, slightly aware of my semi-stiff dick flapping about, but if she can be free with her body, so can I.
I reach the top and mimic her, arms to the sun, and leap.
This time when I kick up for air, she swims into my arms.
“Wasn’t that fun?”
“Yeah,” I agree, shaking the water from my hair like a dog.
“This is awesome!”
I love her enthusiasm.
“So, there are no snakes in North Carolina?”
I laugh.
“Wait.” I hear the caution in that single word. “There aren’t snakes?—”
“Any snakes in here skedaddled after we jumped in.”
She stills and curls into my body. I’ll admit her clinging to me is nice, but her smile is gone.
“What kind of snakes?” She scans the edge like she expects to see one sunbathing on a rock.
