“Hurry! I’ve got a”—hole in my head—”a cramp!” Down she went.
She cut to the right, swam the pattern, headed for the sideline—made ol’ Number Eleven work for it.
Her lungs were burning again. Time to resurface near the goal line.
He’d spent two decades picking out receivers in a crowd, and he spotted her instantly. His stroke was powerful, and she got so caught up watching the way he churned through the water that she nearly forgot to go under again.
His hand brushed her thigh, then fastened around the skimpy bottom of her bathing suit.
His hand. On her butt. She should have thought further ahead.
He jerked hard on the suit to pull her to him, and the skimpy pair of ties that were holding it on snapped. He cla
mped his arm around her and pulled her to the surface.
The bottom part of the suit didn’t come along.
As it trailed away in the water, she could only wonder how she’d gotten herself into this situation. Was this going to be her reward for doing a little good in the world?
“Are you all right?”
She glimpsed his face just before he started hauling her toward the shore. She’d really scared him. Part of her felt guilty, but she still remembered to cough and gasp for air as he dragged her through the water. At the same time she struggled with her modesty.
He wasn’t even breathing heavily, and for a moment she let herself relax against him and enjoy the sensation of his body doing the work for hers. But it was hard to be both relaxed and bare-butt naked. “I—I had a cramp.”
“Which leg is it?” His own leg brushed her hip, but he didn’t seem to notice anything was missing.
“Stop—stop for a minute, will you?”
He slowed in the water and turned her in his arms without letting her go. She saw that anger had replaced his concern. “You shouldn’t have been in the water by yourself. You could have drowned.”
“It was… stupid.”
“Which leg?”
“My… left. But it’s better. I can move it now.”
He let go of one arm to reach for her leg.
“No!” she squeaked, afraid of what he’d encounter on the way.
“Is it cramping again?”
“Not… exactly.”
“Let’s get to shore. I’ll look at it there.”
“I’m fine now. I can—”
He didn’t pay any attention. Instead, he started hauling her toward the beach again.
“Uh, Kevin…” She coughed as she caught a mouthful.
“Keep still, damn it!”
Nice way for a PK to talk, especially to a drowning victim. She did her best to keep her lower half away from his lower half, but he kept sliding against her. Slip sliding… slip sliding… She groaned against a rush of sensation.
His rhythm changed, and she realized he’d touched bottom. She tried to disengage herself. “Let me go. I can walk now.”