Page 82 of The Reality of Us
“Well, you did promise me an adventure.” Her smile was pure mischief. It might’ve been the best one she’d ever given him. He let her push his clothes to the ground and stepped onto the slippery riverbank. She swayed away from him, pulling her shirt and sports bra over her head. The criss-crossed straps had left marks on her skin, and Owen dropped a kiss on each of her shoulders as she peeled herself out of her panties and running shorts.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, breathing in the salty tang hovering on her skin.
“Ready, Boy Scout?”
He guided her further down the bank to a big rock near the edge, pointing out where the deepest point of the creek was.
Alice shivered as a cold breeze rolled across the water. He tried not to notice how her nipples hardened into points, but his cock stirred.
“You jump first,” she said.
Owen shook his head, linking their fingers as he stepped onto the rock. “We jump together.”
He waited until she nodded. “Three, two, one …”
And oh, God, the water was so much colder than he thought it would be. His muscles seized, a shudder rolling through his body. Alice’s laughter was the first thing he heard when he broke the surface. She flung her arms around his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his waist and the weight of the moment and their shared happiness almost pushed him back under.
“I knew you could do it!” He smoothed her hair away from her face before fusing their mouths together. The kiss was slow and gentle, their tongues stroking each other softly, no promise of things escalating now. But when they got back to the campsite …
When they broke apart, Alice laughed again. The sound was bigger and freer than before. If Owen wrapped himself in that sound, he’d never be cold again.
“You owe me at least five orgasms,” she teased.
He rubbed his nose along the column of her throat, his lips skating across her skin as Alice arched her back, encouraging him to bite her gently.
“Guess we’d better get back to camp so I can make dinner and pay my debts, huh?”
“Hurry,” she said, breaking away from him and swimming towards the shore.
It was his turn to laugh when Alice saw the ‘towel’ he’d packed. She scoffed, calling it ‘nothing more than a face cloth’, but any complaints died on her lips quickly when his hands caressed her skin as he whispered promises for the night.
Owen knew he had her when she blushed, drops of river water falling from her lashes and tracking down her rosy cheeks. Away from all the distractions of everyday life and the little bubble they’d created over the last few months, they were so raw, so honest out here.
To hell with it.
He’d tell her.
Trust it wouldn’t be too much.
Owen loved her, and it was time she knew.
29
It was official. Alice was sure there wasn’t anything Owen wasn’t good at. Like everything he did, he moved methodically, blowing on the flickering baby flames, balancing bits of slightly larger wood on top, poking the coals with a long stick. The fire grew steadily, making light and shadows dance across his face. Somehow, they softened his features and defined them sharply at the same time. It was like they were showing all the sides of Owen at once. The serious, honourable man who fought for what was right and the soft, sweet guy with a wild side that simmered under the surface. Sparks flew into the air as he put a big log onto the fire, the embers shifting and cracking. A soft wind rustled the leaves in the shadows.
Alice watched as Owen held out his hands out, checking the fire was hot enough, and then he started warming the pot. He opened and closed the esky, adding containers of things he’d pre-cooked or pre-planned to the pot as he stirred it occasionally. Alice had been expecting sandwiches—never a good gluten-free option—because they were easy. Trust Owen to go out of his way to make something nice for her.
She watched as he twisted around, dusting his hands against his tracksuit, smiling when he saw her.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” he said, crawling into the tent. Alice’s stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with hunger.
She wet her lips and sat up properly, shifting over to make room for Owen. “What?”
“Dinner’s going to take a while.”
She laughed softly, rubbing her face like the movement would erase all her fears. Something’s got to give, that evil little voice in her mind whispered. Nothing’s ever this easy. “That’s okay.”
“Didn’t want to make you eat gluten-free muesli bars, stale sandwiches and jerky when we could have a proper camp meal.”
