Chapter 18

Rory passed the second cooler to Ethan. He took it and strapped it down. She started loading the other supplies they’d need for their two day trip up the Gulf coast; food, water, Coke, beer and wine, and clothes packed in two backpacks.

With everything stowed, she untied the mooring ropes. Ethan started the engines. The boat taxied away from the jetty. She joined him in the cockpit under the solid awning.

He adjusted the throttles, keeping the speed down, barely enough to hit plane. It was a slow pace, much like the whole morning had been.

There was something new between them this morning. She’d noticed it in herself first; a softness, relaxed, and sighs trapped in her chest. Ethan had been quieter, too. His eyes seemed to find her wherever she was, soft blue and full of some emotion.

He’d touched her frequently; a hand on her back, on her shoulder, or a touch of her hair.

As the boat turned south, she asked, “Can we talk?”

“Always.”

“Serious talk, Ethan.”

He glanced at her and smiled slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

There was a lot on her mind. She had a lot of questions. Where to start? With sex? Or with the other feelings that were emerging; the ones she was worried about?

Sex. It was much easier to talk about sex than the other stuff.

“What we’ve been doing, you know, the sex, is incredible. I love having sex with you, as in really, really love it! And the more we have, the more I want. I worry that I’m becoming a bit of a slut.”

Ethan placed his arm over her shoulder and drew her to his side. He studied her, then spoke.

“Society is bipolar when it comes to sex. The media encourages girls to be sexy while politicians and religious leaders warn against engaging in sex. The truth is, a healthy sex life, no matter how old you are, is good for your mental and physical health. Scientists have proven it time and again. Mental well being includes a good sex life, even if it’s masturbation. It’s your body. It’s your decision. As long as you’re not being taken advantage of, and you’re in control of yourself, you’ve nothing to be ashamed about.

“As for worrying about being sluttish, nothing could be further from the truth. You’re not indiscriminately jumping into bed with any available male. You’re not flaunting your sexual conquests. You’re not bragging to your friends. What you’re doing is enthusiastically enjoying a new aspect to your body with someone you care about. That’s the way it should be.”

Mentally, Rory breathed a sigh of relief. She’d worried that she was having too much fun. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she imagined sex would be so incredible. “Okay. I’m glad.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

She slipped her hand under his Polo shirt, rubbed his bare back and hooked her thumb into the waist of his shorts. “Nope. Not yet.”

The other things worrying her were more troublesome. Maybe later.

For three hours, they headed south past the Key West Naval Air Station and the Key West International Airport, cut through the keys and headed north. The Gulf of Mexico waters were calmer and Ethan opened up the throttles until they were skimming across the water at speed, wind cooling them, engines roaring, the scent of salt water in every deep breath.

Ethan, without checking the GPS, piloted the boat, his eyes squinting against sunshine reflecting off waves. He slipped behind Pavilion Key and, at the north end of a tightly forested island protected by Pavilion Key, taxied the Boston Whaler to an almost hidden small beach. The anchor was set. They were thirty feet from the beach. There was little breeze, and more importantly, there wasn’t another human in sight. The boat rocked gently.

Rory undressed to her bikini, grabbed a book, lathered sunscreen on and laid out on the wide, half-oval sunning cushion in front of the cockpit.

The next time she saw Ethan, he was carrying a fishing rod. “Getting a head start on that bucket list?” she asked with a grin.

“Yup. Today’s the day. I can feel it.”

“What delicacy are you tempting the fish with this time?”

He sat at the bow and fiddled with the hook. “Gorgonzola cheese.”

Rory laughed. What a dope!

He cast the line and reeled it in slowly, cast again and reeled it in slowly. She watched for a while. She was always surprised at how calm and relaxed he was. Nothing unsettled him except, she remembered with a smile, sex with her; raw and furious at times.

She read for a while. Heat became oppressive. Perspiring, she dropped the book, stood, ran, and dived overboard, sweet coolness relieving her.

Surfacing, she saw Ethan stowing the rod. He yelled, “You’re not supposed to disturb the fish! You scared them away!”

Rory laughed. “Your stinky cheese did that!”

He dropped his shorts revealing a swimming suit, tugged his Polo shirt off, and dove in.

As dusk approached and the temperature abated, they ate. A selection of cold cuts, lots of mayo for her, fresh French loaf, and fruit. Perfect.

The quiet was complete. Rory sighed with satisfaction when she finished, her stomach full, life good.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” she started.

“I thought so. What?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it, so don’t jump in until I’ve finished, okay?”

He nodded and sipped his second beer.

“I’ve been feeling afraid. It...”

Concern blossomed on his face. “About what? Why? When did it...”

“Shush! Let me finish.”

He frowned.

She took a deep, bracing breath. “Ever since we’ve been ... intimate, I’ve started worrying and I can’t stop it. I worry that I’m too happy and something’s going to happen to you and I’m going to lose you, or I’ll do something stupid and ruin what we have. It’s gotten worse in the last couple of weeks.”

“What do you think’s going to happen?” he asked.

Rory shrugged. “That’s just it. I don’t know. There’s nothing specific. I’m just scared it’ll happen and I won’t be able to stop it. And then I lose you.” She paused, then added, “I know it’s childish but...”

“There’s nothing childish about it, Rory,” Ethan said rather firmly.

“Then, what is it?”

“I’m no psychiatrist, but I suspect it’s natural. When you have something that makes you very happy, it’s only normal to worry about losing it.” He moved and sat next to her, his arm over her shoulder.

She sighed and leaned against him. “I don’t think I could survive losing you,” she whispered. “Mom and Dad were enough.”

Ethan spoke quietly. “Life isn’t always smooth sailing. Getting angry at each other is normal. Having arguments is normal. Feeling frustrated is normal. What makes the difference is being open and talking about it. Every problem can be solved by talking.”

“I get that. I’m still scared, though.”

Ethan tilted her face up and smiled. “In that case, focus on being my slave, cater to my every whim, and I’ll be happy.”

“I don’t think so! You’ve got it reversed, buster!” She laughed. “You’re a twit.”

He kissed her and murmured, “Yes I am.”

Despite nothing being resolved, she felt better. Maybe talking really did work.

The sun below the horizon blinked out and suddenly, the night was pitch black, blinding black. Slowly, stars emerged in the sky. They multiplied as her eyes adjusted until a carpet of diamonds were strewn haphazardly across the heavens. The temperature dropped enough to make her shiver, even though it was still warm.

Ethan stood and turned a radio on, grabbed two beers, and handed her one. “Have a drink. You’ll feel better.”

“No thanks. That’s your third.”

“Is it?” He put both of them back.

Much later, Rory moved close to Ethan in the small cabin bed, a light cotton sheet over her. For the first time, she didn’t feel like having sex. Lying in bed with Ethan was almost as good.

I COULDN’T FALL ASLEEP. Rory, with her admission of fears, had demonstrated a deeper commitment to us than I’d expected. It both worried and pleased me. It mirrored feelings I’d been experiencing; the fear that all this was transitory, that what was left when it ended would be harder to live with - no going back.

Like her, my feelings had evolved into a longer term desire. Who knew if a future together was possible? Given her feelings, I’d have to be very, very careful to ensure every step in our relationship was what she wanted, not what she thought I wanted.

Rory was such a complex creature; a girl of constant surprises, fascinating and enchanting. Last night, in the complete darkness, she’d woken me and silently sought pleasure. It was incredible. Yet, there was a quiet desperation in her. Had that been the manifestation of her fears?

Rory had fucked me. She’d used me. And I’d loved it.

Rory muttered in her sleep and rolled, giving me her back and hugging my arm to her.

Pain formed in my chest.

The boat rocked gently. Small waves slapped against the hull; the only noise in the night.

With a sigh, I rolled and spooned her. Her hair tickled my nose, her unique scent calming me. Sleep slinked towards me.

Much later, I struggled awake, fear making my heart race. Darkness haunted me. Another nightmare I couldn’t remember, just a feeling of helplessness. When my heart calmed, sleep flirted with me. Listening to the quiet slaps of waves against the hull and Rory’s quiet breaths, I fell asleep.

Rory’s bright laughter echoed across the calm water. Early morning, sun just breaking over the horizon, she darted away from my hand groping her naked ass. I grinned with pleasure.

She’d woken up this morning all soft and cuddly, aroused me by snuggling, her knee pressing against my penis, murmuring sweetly. And when an erection formed, she’d laughed and left the small cabin bed.

Rory was back in fine form, teasing me, her magnificent eyes bursting with mischief. It was over breakfast - cereal and milk - that she’d glanced around at the isolated water and casually scratched under her breasts. The T-shirt she’d worn to bed rucked up exposing her naked pussy, then fell, hiding the gorgeous sight. And as I’d reacted, horniness and desire blossoming, she’d leaned over to put her cereal bowl down and I reached out and grabbed an exposed buttock.

“Ethan!” she’d exclaimed, jumping up as if electrocuted.

Undeterred, I lunged and groped, Rory darting away.

Smiling with amusement, I watched her duck into the cabin. Leaning back on the bench, stretching my arms along the cushion, I admired the view. It was the perfect time of day, light slanting to bring shadowed contrast to the dense trees covering the island. The quiet was peaceful. And the temperature was perfect; morning coolness but not cold, the intense heat still a couple of hours off.

I was feeling randy and energetic. One full day without sex had intensified my desire for Rory. And today, our second day, I was going to have fun before we headed home.

Rory emerged from the cabin below and moved to the foredeck. She hadn’t changed. Her hair was brushed. In one hand she held a paperback. With a smile, she spread her towel and settled on her front on the sunbathing bench; a half oval, vinyl cushion-covered surface in front of the cockpit.

I moved up to join her, sitting on a side bench, and admired her long, bare legs. On her elbows, she read, ignoring me.

The T-shirt had ridden up, now very close to the base of her buttocks. Had she put panties on? Her ass curved up sensually, such a sweet shape.