Deep Diving

by Cate Ellink

  I know I should move or speak or make some action, but nothing feels right. Nothing except sitting here wrapped in Cooper. My hand rests against his chest. Not moving, just being. I’m content. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. I don’t want to be with anyone else but him. The little opening in my heart now gapes wide, like magpies singing at dawn.

  Chapter 14

  For my last full day, Cooper’s hired a double sea kayak for us to paddle out around the island, or in the lagoon if it’s too rough outside.

  My smile must be a mile wide. ‘I can’t believe you thought of this. It’s perfect.’

  ‘There’s one thing though.’ I turn in query and he grins. ‘I get to be at the back.’

  I laugh and wave him towards the rear. ‘Control freak.’ It doesn’t bother me where I sit, though sitting behind Cooper watching his muscles flex would have been a treat.

  We don life vests, take waterproof bags of lunch and necessities, and slip into the kayak. We’ve both paddled before but it’ll be interesting to see how we manage together.

  Once we get going, I don’t know why I even thought there’d be a problem; we paddle together like we’ve been doing it for years. Cooper must be matching my strokes because there’s no clash of paddles, just smooth gliding across the water.

  ‘Are we heading out round the island?’ I ask once we’ve settled into a rhythm and are heading towards the edge of the lagoon.

  ‘I’d like to. It’s calm and the forecast is good. It should be like this all day.’

  ‘Awesome, let’s go.’

  From the lagoon, we paddle to the south-west towards the mountains. The water is crystal clear. We stop paddling to gaze at the bottom of the water, watch fish and the occasional small reef shark or turtle. We drift along in the current for a while. It’s peaceful.

  In the shadow of Mount Lidgbird is Little Island, a large, rugged rock covered in stunted plants and sea birds. It’s nature at its rawest and harshest. Hard rock to grow on and heavy salty air to live in. ‘This place amazes me.’ My voice is all breathy and whispering.

  We start paddling again when the ocean current swirls us in a new direction.

  ‘So, Coop, what does it feel like to represent your country?’

  While we paddle, he fills me in on all I missed in our previous conversation. It’s a balm to my soul to hear more about his personal life.

  The slopes below Mount Gower are forests of palms and banyans. Bright green against the black basalt rock. It’s beautiful. Not going anywhere. Solid. Safe. Kind of like Cooper.

  We’re talking about our achievements and wins when Cooper says, ‘I value my club wins, my state wins, but when you win for your country in a tough, close international game, I think that’s the greatest achievement you can ever have.’

  I can only agree. ‘Nothing compares to standing there with your country’s honour resting on your shoulders.’

  ‘Is it a heavy burden when you’re competing on your own?’

  ‘Never. It’s a privilege. Something you’ve worked towards. Something you’ve earned. The thrill is immense.’

  ‘It’s the same for me. Being selected as an Australian team member is such an achievement and running on in that jersey, I can’t put words to how it feels.’

  We keep paddling and chatting. The rhythmic strokes come naturally to me. I stare at the beauty of the mountains towering straight up from the sea. The sunshine sparkles across the tiny wavelets, like shimmering diamonds. The sun warms me, as does our conversation. I’m relaxed and happier than I have been in a long time. Sharing our experiences is more than heart-warming, my whole being is filled.

  I know a lot more about Cooper the football player. A side that he’s not shown before. I’ve seen his competitive nature, but not learned his love of the game, the hard work he puts in to be at his peak, the sacrifices, injuries, concerns, and camaraderie shared.

  It isn’t a one-sided conversation at all. He asks as much about me as I do him. It’s refreshing to find someone who shares a conversation and listens as well as talks.

  When the conversation naturally wanes, we paddle in silence for a good distance. The peaks no longer loom over us as we round the southern tip. A rocky island appears on the right covered in white splotches and sea birds.

  We paddle around the southern tip and along the eastern side. A large scree-covered slope dominates the edge of the island. Palms and dense vegetation make a thick green blanket over the foot of the black mountains.

  We talk of family, friends, life. Random topics that come to mind. Tidbits of information. It’s easy and fun and light, but dear Lord, I want him. I’m learning about his mind and I love that but I still want his body. Again.

  We glide past a peninsula, thin and angular jutting from the island. As we round it, large red rocky outcrops dot the northern side.

  ‘Do you reckon there are any secluded beaches along here?’

  Cooper laughs. ‘Is the paddling too much action for you, Sam?’

  I chuckle. Hopefully sexily. I don’t want to admit my lust out loud.

  We paddle past another tight point. A few islands are off to our right, and I wonder if the islands have beaches. They look too rocky and craggy. I glance ashore and spy a strip of sand.

  ‘There’s a beach.’ I exclaim it as if it’s momentous. ‘Will we go have a look?’

  Cooper chuckles. ‘Just a look?’ I guess my over-enthusiasm tips him off that I’m after more than a look at the sand.

  I turn and flash him a grin. ‘Yeah, just a look.’ Sarcasm drips off each word.

  We head towards the strip of sand, pale against the lush vegetation. When we’re close to the beach, the bottom of the kayak scrapes over submerged rocks. At first it doesn’t matter, we can see the darkness of them in the water and paddle around them, but soon the entire water seems filled by submerged rocks and I can’t determine their depths.

  ‘If we got out, we could probably float the kayak in over the rocks.’ It’s the only way I can see us getting to the beach intact.

  ‘And how do we get out without capsizing?’ He has a good point. It doesn’t take much to tip these.

  ‘If we each got our legs out and sat astride, then faced out and slid off at the same time we’d be right, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘Except I weigh about twice what you do.’

  I chuckle. ‘I’ll think heavy.’

  ‘You really want to go to the beach?’

  I turn my head, and my eyes stretch wide open. I flick my tongue across dry lips. It’s the secluded beach we’ve been looking for the whole time and he’s questioning going in. Have I lost my touch?

  He laughs. ‘Forget I said that. Get your legs out.’

  We wriggle, rocking the kayak vigorously, until finally my feet are dangling in the water each side of the kayak.

  ‘Left or right?’ he asks.

  ‘I’ll go left. That okay?’

  ‘On three we’ll swing to our side. You think heavy. We’ll hold there and check the water before sliding in.’

  With much laughter, a lot of kayak rocking and water splashing, we’re in the water and heading to the beach, dodging rocks and tugging paddles and the kayak between us. We drag the gear up the beach so the rising tide won’t leave us stranded.

  ‘Do you reckon we’re the only people here?’ I scan the beach, the ocean, and the rainforest behind us. There appears to be no one anywhere around. No tracks lead onto the beach through the forest, well, none I can see. Unless a boat comes along, or a plane, we should be alone.

  ‘Looks like it’s just us. So what’s your plan?’ Cooper asks.

  ‘Plan? I have no plan.’ I do, but I’m not admitting it. My plan isn’t fancy; I want sex.

  ‘And if I have a plan?’ His shiny eyes seem to dance as his grin slips from knee-weakening to completely carnal.

  My stomach lurches. Boy, am I glad we detoured to the beach. ‘If you have a plan, then I’m all for it.’ I grin, hoping to keep my tone light inst
ead of revealing the lustful longing that’s coursing through me. Hell. What kind of plan is it?

  Cooper flicks his chin up and his head gives a bit of a nod. I wonder if he’s trying to invent a plan or if he already had some idea. Maybe he’s worried about how I’ll take it. My lungs freeze mid-breath. Last time he wanted clean-skin sex and I freaked. Oh God, please don’t let me freak this time.

  I suck in a breath and his eyes dilate as he stares at the small frills on the edge of my bikini top. The tiny hairs on my arm quiver as if a breeze has blown across them. My spine tingles. My stomach clenches and deeper inside, my womb does a kind of barrel-roll and juices seep into my cunt. Fuck, he could make me come with his gaze.

  ‘Cooper.’ My voice is strained and his name comes out in at least three disjointed syllables. ‘What’s the plan?’

  He takes a breath and I can’t tear my stare away from his stomach muscles bunching and releasing. The way his chest lifts and falls, and his tight nipples. It feels like he’s breathed the breath out of me.

  ‘I want to watch you.’ Said so simply, his deeper, aroused voice slips across the wettest part of me as if it’s his finger sliding along the slick folds. I shudder from my toes to my scalp. I don’t need any more direction. If he wants to watch, I can give him a show.

  I reach behind for the string on my bikini top but before I can untie the bow, he stops me.

  ‘Not like that. I want a triathlon.’

  My hands drop to my hips and I stare at him. ‘You want me to swim, bike and run?’ The unspoken words are ‘instead of sex?’ but I don’t need to utter them as my tone surely implies it.

  ‘Yes. I’m going to lie in the shallows where there are no rocks and I want you to swim around me. Then I want to watch you cycle where the tide laps, and run down the beach so when I catch you, you’re wet and hot.’ His words shouldn’t be sexy. His idea shouldn’t be arousing. But I’m breathy, wet and wanting.

  ‘How do I do that?’ My mind is jumbled up with words and images and need. I can’t separate them to make sense of his plan. I can’t for the life of me think through each phase and transition. How do I swim and transition to cycle, cycle then transition to running? I can only think of the finish, and that’s not the way to get through a triathlon.

  ‘You’ll work it out, Sam.’ He flashes a quick grin as he skims his shorts off.

  Oh, yeah, great way for me to work it out. I’m already in a lust-daze, and seeing him naked and aroused is so going to help.

  While I’m staring, he walks into the sea. The waves lick at his calves, then the backs of his knees, his thighs. And then his butt sinks into the water and he lies amongst the waves. He ducks his head back so he’s submerged and then sprays water through his lips like a fountain. My breath catches. He could be a god of the sea, except I’m pretty sure they’re not as buff as him.

  Swimming around his glorious body is going to be fun. And I haven’t been banned from touching, or tasting, or any other pleasure-taking. This could end up being my favourite type of triathlon.

  Ditching my swimmers, I wade into the water and make a shallow dive so I glide out and under him. I pop up on his far side, take a breath and then duck under. The water is so clear, I can open my eyes and make out his shape; not the specific details because it’s blurry but enough to enjoy myself. I brush the pad of my thumb along the veins of his arm, dipping into the bend of his elbow and up along his bicep swell. My hand moulds around his shoulder joint and I align my body beneath his, peeking my head up next to his to take another breath.

  Breath taken and lungs filled with air, I scull with one hand until I’m slipping underneath his body, one hand trailing over his skin from shoulder, over shoulder blade, down to waist, the top of his butt and over the swell of his buttock, down his thigh, behind his knee, over the rounded calf before cupping his foot and lifting my head up for another breath.

  This time after submerging, I swim under his legs to his buttocks and roll beneath him so I can blow a stream of bubbles along his spine from base to neck. I hope they tickle. I hope they dance along his flesh like spidery touches. I hope it’s worth the head spin I get when I pop up near his shoulder, gasping for another breath.

  ‘Try not to drown doing this, Sam.’ His dry comment makes me smile. The head of his cock, poking further out of the water than any other part of his body, has me grinning.

  I lie beneath him, held up by the buoyant water, head next to his, knees loosely hooked on his thighs to keep my body against him. Turning my head, I nibble against his neck, beneath his ear, suck on his earlobe, bite along his ear and then back again. My tongue slips along his jaw before sliding down his neck to his collarbone. I’m enjoying myself way too much when Cooper’s arms start to wave underwater. I stand and steady him before I drown us both.

  ‘Sorry, got carried away. I promise I won’t drown you.’ Laughing, I move between his legs and hook them around my hips. I can’t drown him but the way I’m feeling, I hope I’ll notice if I am.

  My hands close over the top of his tight thighs. My fingers massage the tense muscles, slipping ever upwards until I curl them around the base of his cock. I lean forward to taste the head and before my mouth touches his flesh, I see his arms waving in the water, sculling.

  ‘You could tell me before you sink, Coop.’

  ‘It’s okay. I didn’t want you to stop.’

  I chuckle and slip one hand beneath his butt to keep him afloat before stroking his cock with my right hand.

  ‘I thought you were going to taste,’ he says in a kind of strangled voice, although maybe he’s just swallowed too much salt water.

  I grin. ‘I got distracted.’ But I don’t taste. My fist dips up and down, water swirling with each movement. Waves wash rhythmically and I time my hand to the ocean. The water adds to the slickness and cools his heated flesh but the muscle beneath the skin is hard and unaffected by the cool ocean.

  When my head doesn’t dip to his cock, Cooper relaxes, no longer waiting or expectant. He stretches his arms out wide and floats. His gaze flicks between my face and the bright blue sky. His hips rock in time with my hands and the waves. He seems to lose himself in the rocking motion.

  Only then do I bend and close my mouth around the tip of his cock. He doesn’t move, only a flinch lets me know he feels the heated moist cavern of my mouth. Then I lick the flat of my tongue across the top of his cock. One strong lapping motion. A hiss escapes his lips.

  I make him wait for more.

  My fist still pumps and my mouth surrounds the head but my tongue is kept tucked away.

  I wait an agonising 10 waves before I curl my tongue around his cock, flicking and tasting, sampling and sliding. I love this part. I love the feel of his cock against my tastebuds.

  A larger-than-normal wave washes over us and I leap up spluttering. Water has washed into my mouth and nose, robbing me of breath and burning me with salty tang.

  Instead of complaining, Cooper laughs. We’re standing waist deep, laughing, and I’m spluttering. Not the best path to arousal.

  ‘God, that wasn’t meant to happen.’ I heave the words between coughing.

  ‘You mean you’ve never been dumped by a rogue wave in the swim leg?’

  I look at him with something like a quizzical frown, I hope. ‘I know you’re good, but there’s no way you planned that. No way in the world.’

  He laughs and slings his arm across my shoulder. ‘I am good, you’re right, but not that good.’ He grins and plonks a kiss on the tip of my nose. ‘I think the cycle leg is next.’

  ‘With a lousy transition,’ I mutter as I drag myself out of my splutter. In triathlons, transitions can make or break a race, and my change from swim to cycle here is terrible. Thank goodness it’s not a race. ‘How does the cycle go?’

  ‘I was imagining you in the wet sand, legs in the air, cycling.’

  I stop and stare. Splutter completely gone. ‘You…what?’

  He grins and winks before waving his hand toward
s the sand. ‘Beautiful secluded beach. Nice lazy way to cycle. Awesome view for me.’

  I shake my head in a no-way-am-I-doing-that way.

  ‘What’s the problem, Sam? There’s nothing I haven’t seen. Aren’t you up for some aerial bike riding?’

  He’s right. He has seen all I’ve got. So why am I balking at exposing myself? Why am I worried about this?

  I’ve got no answers.

  No answers at all.

  No matter how hard I try to find an answer, nothing’s coming.

  I shrug. ‘I was just trying to anticipate what awful transition you have in store for me next time.’ I grin and wander out of the water to the wet sand, hoping I can get high enough not to get a crotch full of sandy water from a big wave, but low enough not to have dry sand up my crack. It’s a delicate decision.

  When I find a position I hope is perfect, I plonk myself down, slide my hands beside my hips, then lift my hips up onto my hands and I’m in a shoulder stand. ‘Is this the pose you’re after?’

  Cooper stands to the side, a smirk on his lips but cock still hard. ‘Perfect.’

  If his cock goes flaccid, this bike leg will be short.

  I move my legs as if riding a bike, and try not to erupt into giggles. This is surely not romantic or arousing or even attractive.

  ‘How long do I have to do this for?’ I ask as my legs hurl around in circles. I’m not looking at him because I feel like a fool and I can’t bear to see him laughing at me.

  A cool breeze whips across my heated cunt and little shudders tremble through me. I let out a tiny moan I hope he doesn’t hear. I dart my gaze to the side to look. The sight makes my head whip around so I can see better.

  His hand is fisted tightly around a purple-headed cock, and he’s pumping hard. His face is contorted like he’s aroused and holding back. And when he catches my gaze, his eyes are dark pools I could drown in. Suddenly cycling isn’t so crazy.

  I spread my thighs and pedal harder. The breeze teases, a wave scoots too far up the beach and brushes against my buttocks. I jump but keep pedalling. The water isn’t too bad.