Page 65 of Cutter’s Lady

The next morning they ate more of the breadnuts and bananas, loaded some of the fruits into a sack and started out again. Day after day they continued to walk toward the east, slashing through the jungle, skirting mountains, searching for any sign of a trail to follow. They ate meagerly from their hoard of beef and cheese, supplementing it with nuts and fruits they found along the way. When they ran out of the beef jerky and cheese, Leslie grew tired of breadnut fruit, whether fried or boiled. One day they came across a cashew tree and picked some. That night, for a treat, Cutter hulled the nuts, his hands wrapped to avoid the blister oil of the hulls. He roasted them over the fire, the only way to render them edible, and he and Leslie stuffed themselves on the delicious nutmeat.

They were weary, hungry and dirty, and sleeping on the ground inside their small tent kept them stiff and sore. Leslie longed for a bath and a real meal. Yet, strangely enough, they were happy. They talked and joked and laughed, telling each other about their childhoods and recalling books they had read, movies they had seen. No matter how her muscles ached, Leslie hardly noticed; it was too nice being with Cutter, talking or simply walking in companionable silence. They came together every night in their tent, spinning away from the dangerous world outside in a shower of white-hot sparks, each of them insatiable for the other. They teased, explored and fulfilled. During those nights, nothing else existed for Leslie except Cutter. They were locked together, in a place apart from the rest of the world.

Leslie didn’t think about her feelings or analyze them. She didn’t even consider where this impulsive affair would end. Nothing mattered except the present moment. There was no tomorrow, only here and now, for tomorrow was too uncertain.

On the fourth day out from the rebel camp, shortly after their brief lunch break, Cutter spotted water through the trees on the right and veered in that direction. After he had refilled their bottles, they followed the small creek as it wound along, getting wider and swelling with more water as they walked. After a while they broke through the heavy vegetation to a beautiful clearing.

Leslie gasped with delight at the sight below them. The trees, knotted and snarled with vines, opened up, and a shelf of barren rock extended over a small lagoon and water from the stream spilled over it. The lagoon was pale green and glittered beneath the sun. The water was so clear that they could see the sandy bottom all the way on the far side where it was shallower. Wavering plants grew there and brightly colored fish darted about. Up here, they stood on a rocky cliff, watching the water tumble and shoot into the lagoon in a silvery spray.

“Wow,” Leslie breathed, enchanted. “It’s lovely.”

Cutter nodded in assent. “It’s warm, too.”

“How do you know? Come here often?” Leslie teased.

“Every lagoon I’ve seen here has been warm. I assume this one will be, too.”

“Perhaps we should test your theory.” She grinned up at him, eyes sparkling. “Let’s go swimming.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.” Cutter sat down on the rock slab and tugged off his boots, then set his weapons and bundle of their dwindling supplies beside him on the rock. Leslie quickly followed his lead, taking off her heavy boots. She started to unbutton her short-sleeved shirt, then stopped, aware of Cutter’s eyes upon her. She glanced at him, somewhat embarrassed. As much as they had had sex, they had never undressed before each other, outdoors and in the light of day.

Cutter leaned back on his elbows, grinning, watching her. Leslie hesitated for a moment. Cutter’s eyes were scorching; just their touch burned through her, setting up hot, pulsing sensations in her abdomen. Her breasts tingled as if he had touched them. Mingled with the faint embarrassment was a new feeling, a shameless desire to be naked before him and see the heat of passion spark in his eyes. Not taking her eyes from him, Leslie unbuttoned her shirt and let it slide off her shoulders. The button of her jeans slipped out with a suggestive pop, and she moved the zipper down slowly.

The grin faded from Cutter’s face, leaving behind the imprint of desire. His eyes were bright, his throat and cheeks faintly flushed, his mouth wider and softer. His entire being was riveted on her body. Leslie pushed her jeans slowly down her legs, caressing her skin with the rough touch of denim. She stepped out of them and then reached back to unfasten her bra and slide it off. Cutter watched, his breathing irregular, and his tongue brushed his lips.

Leslie rolled down her sheer panties and pulled them off. She stood before him, lovely in her nakedness. Her breasts were rounded and creamy, centered by pink-brown nipples, already hardening under Cutter’s gaze. He could see the faint lines of her ribs below her breasts, the flow of her waist into her hips, the dark patch of hair that lured him to her femininity. He gazed at her, feeding on her beauty, letting her sensuality seep down deep inside him, stirring and heating him. Leslie waited for a long moment, then turned and made her way around the edge of the cliff and down the hill to where the water was shallower and she could see there were no hidden rocks. Once she got to the bottom she dived out into the lagoon.

Behind her Cutter scrambled to his feet, tearing off his clothes, and, trying to be inconspicuous, he threw down a square, silver packet that caught the sun as it landed on a dry rock down near the waterfall. A condom. Leslie grinned to herself; it was sweet how he wanted to protect her but also keep it romantic. He followed her down and dived into the clear water after her.

Swimming with fierce, long strokes, Cutter caught up with Leslie before she reached the center of the pool. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her hard against him, so that she felt his unmistakably awakened desire. His hands slid over her breasts, slick with water, and cupped their fullness. Their legs stirred lazily, keeping them afloat, as Cutter bent and kissed the tender flesh at the juncture of her throat and shoulder. He nuzzled against her, sensitizing her skin to the slightest sensation.

Leslie arched back against him, tilting her head. The water lapped around them, warm and caressing—echoing their movements. Cutter’s days-old beard lightly abraded her skin, making the pleasure of his velvet lips all the sweeter; his hair tangled with hers and brushed against her cheek. A dark, heavy warmth grew low in her abdomen, and she moved her legs restlessly in the water, seeking its intimate touch. She turned in his arms, and Cutter kissed her deeply, his tongue filling her mouth, his lips hard and searching against hers. He tightened his hold, pulling her in under him, and his legs wrapped around her. Leslie clung to him, slipping down into the sweet darkness of passion.

Their heads went underwater, and they came up dripping and laughing. Leslie sliced through the water, swimming gracefully away from him, and Cutter followed. They dodged and darted, playing a teasing game of tag, and the forfeit whenever one was caught was always a kiss.

Finally they climbed out and stood beneath the waterfall, letting its shining spray cascade over their skin. Cutter washed Leslie as thoroughly as if he had soap, his hands moving over every inch of her water-slick skin, and when he was through, Leslie returned the favor. Cutter took her hand and moved out from under the spray. A vine bearing huge pink flowers hung down from the massive slab of rock over which the waterfall flowed, and Cutter picked one of the large round blooms. He slid the flower into Leslie’s hair, tucking the stem behind her ear. The blossom nestled against the creamy white of her face and the sable darkness of her hair, glowing like a huge jewel. Leslie smiled up at him, so beautiful she took his breath away. Cutter was filled with a hundred sappy thoughts he wanted to say to her, but none of them was lovely enough or clever enough to do her justice.

So he spoke with his eyes and his hands, pulling her down with him onto the narrow ledge of rock behind the waterfall. The water roared in their ears, spraying them with a fine mist and shielding them from the world like a sparkling, rainbow-drenched curtain.

Reclining on his elbow and looking down at her, his pupils huge and dark with desire, Cutter plucked the flower from Leslie’s hair and trailed it slowly across her cheek and down her throat. The petals had a touch so light and silky it seemed unreal, like the stroke of angels’ wings or a sprinkling of fairy dust. Leslie’s eyes fluttered closed, and she made a soft noise deep in her throat.

Cutter moved the flower over her, caressing her through its satiny touch. He brushed it across her breasts, grazing the hard points of her nipples. Then he swept the flower up the swell of her breast, traveling again and again from the base to the nipple all around each orb, turning her nipples to hard buds of heat. Leslie moaned under his attentions, aching for the full, hard strength of him, yet too enthralled by what he was doing to want him to stop.

The petals drifted down over stomach, across the soft plain of flesh and up over the knobs of her pelvic bones. He teased the flower in little shakes over her hips and legs and drew it up the inner line of her thighs. She moved her les apart, aching for him, but he tormented her with only the lightest brush before he moved onto her abdomen.

His hand spread out flat, pressing the flower between it and Leslie’s skin, and he moved upward firmly, crushing the flower between them. The air was heady with the bloom, and the crushed petals left a damp trail over Leslie’s skin wherever it touched. The scent, the faintly sticky juice marking her skin, excited Leslie almost beyond bearing, and when Cutter rubbed the bruised petals over her breasts and nipple, she arched and moaned, begging him wordlessly to take her.

He was himself almost mindless with desire, but he didn’t take her yet. Instead he traced a straight line down the center of her body and covered the tiny engorged button of her desire with the petals, stroking with their infinite softness. Then, at last, unable to wait any longer, he tossed the crushed flower out into the pool and turned over on his back, pulling a condom out from the packet he’d tossed down earlier. Once Leslie rolled the condom down, he pulled her on top of him so that he bore their weight upon the hard slab of rock. She took him into her, as Cutter thrust upward, moving with the force and eagerness of a man on the edge. His body lunged instinctively, hungrily, and Leslie answered with an eager counterpoint. Their passion swelled, taking over their bodies and minds, hurling them into a sweet, wild blackness where nothing existed except their frighteningly intense need. The need built until at last it became unbearable and burst apart in a flood. Waves of pleasure swept through Leslie, sending heat to every part of her body, and she groaned, her pleasure intensified by the inarticulate cry of satisfaction that came from Cutter.

She sagged against him, and he took her in his arms, squeezing her so tightly she felt sure she would have broken had she not been so utterly limp.

“You certainly brought a lot of condoms for a rescue mission with a woman who disliked you and whom you hated even more.” Leslie joked, trailing her fingers over his chest lazily.

“I guess I’m an eternal optimist.” Cutter grinned. “Besides, you know you never hated me as much as you wanted to.” He laughed and held his hand up in front of his face as if to block a slap.

Leslie rolled her eyes but she knew he was right. She had never hated him and now… I love him, she thought, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world. She smiled and repeated it in her mind for her own pleasure. I love him.

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