SPRAY

The shower's hot spray poured down over them both.  The cubicle was built for two and they still found it confining as they played like children, splashing and jostling each other while the fragrant bubbles made lacy iridescent trails across their naked berry-brown skin.

"Come on, Terry... let me..."

"Bit of danger here, love... got to be at the top of your game..."

Karina rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, right..."

"I'm serious.  There's a bit more to it than just point and shoot... you have to point and shoot with finesse..."  He brandished the 'pistol' in question at her and laughed as she ducked under his arm, reached around and gripped it from behind, giving it a sensual stroke.  "Hey!  You're on the job here.  None of that now..."

"Mmm...."  She hummed happily.  His cock was so fine.  "I think I have penis envy."

"Doesn't everyone?"  he teased.  Given her sexual tastes, her offhand comment could have meant anything.  He wasn't sure he much cared for the idea.  

Terry's lips pursed while he thought that one over, until she added, "I definitely do.  Want some of it, I mean... sooner rather than later, I think.  I rather like being a woman, thank you very much."

"I like you being a woman, too.  Beats the alternative!"  Terry let the stream fly with a shameless grin.  She jumped, surprised by how it felt even though she was anticipating it.  "Steady on, now..."  It made him laugh.  Why did women always want to try it out?   

"Houston, we have liftoff..." 

Terry sighed.  

Karina giggled and swerved experimentally.  The spray went wobbly and then up and up, and before he could even guess what she had in mind, with a deft flick of her wrist, she maneuvered the squidgy flesh back round at the source and scored a direct hit.

He howled, cursing and laughing as he pulled them both under the hot spray from the taps.  "Fucking women!  Remind me to never take you to the range, love.  I don't need any extra holes."

She pinched his arse.  "I like all your holes just the way they are."  Karina ignored his long suffering groan.  "And I am not at all sure I like the reference to this," she palmed his penis, "as a weapon.  It's a cock, not a squirt gun."

"The fuck it isn't."  To prove his point, he giggled and let the interrupted stream fly once again, knocking over the small complimentary shampoo and then bottle of conditioner that was sitting in the bottom of the shower, like cans off a fence.  "See?  Point and shoot.  Simple as."

"That is absurd," she insisted, though she was still pruriently watching his little show.  "Like that crap about a woman's vagina having teeth."

"Well, that's different.... That's true..."  His head swiveled round, eyes sparkling with mischief even as he deadpanned, "Haven't met one yet where that old adage didn't apply.... At least once in a blue moon..." He hooted at his own bad joke.  Someone had to.

"Good grief.  We're not all man-eaters, Terry."

"Thank Christ.  Just must be my luck, then...."  He waggled his eyebrows at her, brandishing his penis with flair and a hammy little wiggle of his hips.  "You are bloody wrong, too.  Not a pistol?  Let's just have the rundown then, shall we?  Comes fully loaded.  You point.  You shoot.  You score... hopefully." 

Karina was finding it hard to keep a straight face.  "Are we talking about pissing or fucking?"

"You are the crudest woman I've ever met!"  He pulled a face and tutted, ignoring her rude question, mostly because it made him want to laugh.  "Aim is, of course, always a tricky variable.  Some of us have it... some don't..." he actually swaggered a bit.  Karina found it adorably cocky.  "And of course, once you've acquired the target and emptied the chamber, there's the matter of reloading."  He paused, looking at her face with delight.  "Which is wholly dependent on the man and his proficiency with said weapon."

"You know, you just might have a point there..."  He gloated, but only for a moment before she giggled and added, "So, following your logic... said weapon would also be subject to wear and tear..." She ran a hand down his cock from base to tip.  "Hmm... no signs of rust here..."

Terry snorted.

She ignored him.  "Yes, I am seeing the comparison more and more clearly."  He did not look as if he trusted her assessment for one moment.  "Stands to reason then it would also misfire from time to time..."

"Happens to the best of us, love!  Bit of a design flaw, really....It's a risk I'm willing to take, however..."

"Sounds more like a risk I'm expected to take." She pulled her tongue at him.  "By the same token, it must also jam from time to time..."

"I wouldn't know," he said tartly.  "...that's nothing to do with me..."

"Keep all your gear in good working order, do you then?"  She was still stroking him and it was getting harder and harder to follow the thread of this conversation.  Something else was getting harder and harder, too.

"We aim to please..."  He caught her eye just then, a serious mood on him all of a sudden as he covered her hand with his, stilling her fingers.  "Not a weapon, though.  Not in any real sense.  The idea of that makes me sick..."

"Of course it does.  You are not that kind of man-"

He stopped her, unwilling to go there with her, even now.  "I wouldn't be so sure.  There was a time when I could've cheerfully strangled you."

"With your cock?"

Chortling, he held up his hands in surrender.  "Point taken."  His eyes glittered.  "However, the idea does have some merit..."

She was already sinking to her knees.  His body was amazing, thick with muscles and lightly furred, rough and weathered, a real man's body.  The water was running down over his erect flesh in glittering rivulets.  Her mouth watered.  "I wouldn't be too sure about that.  I think someone's about to strangle in here, and it isn't going to be me...."

Terry threw back his head and groaned at her touch.  Sometimes it was bloody good to be wrong...

SEEING RED 

"Why don't we ever talk about that night?"

Terry wasn't paying any attention to Karina's question.  He was busy rummaging around in the pile of purchases they'd made that day on their day trip to one of the more populated parts of the paradise they had found themselves in.

"Which?"  He was only half listening.  A few moments later when the words registered, he paused, stiffening uncomfortably.  Surely she didn't mean-

"Not that!"  She was getting better at reading him.  "But we should talk about Logan sometime, Terry.  We can't avoid it forever."

Terry only grunted.  That was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

"I mean that night with Dino and Liz."

Abandoning the search, he threw himself down on the bed with a resigned sigh.  "Why do you want to talk about it?"

"Why do you avoid talking about it?  We were both there.  I don't want to ruin what we have found together here, but if we can't talk about it now, I can't imagine it will be any easier back home and I'm not sure pretending it never happened will do us any favors in the long run.  If there is a long run, that is..."

He looked up sharply. "What's to talk about? We went to a sex party. We had sex. Consenting adults. It meant nothing..."

Karina sighed. He wasn't going to make this easy. "One of those adults was your best friend, whom I fucked him while you watched.  Or rather, who fucked me. I think that carries a bit more weight where men are concerned, doesn't it? That whole Neanderthal thing about dragging home your kill?"

He gave her another glance, this time even more guarded.  "Liz is your friend. More than friend, so I hear. So you tell me if it's an issue? How did it feel for you to watch me give it to her while you watched?"

"Christ, Terry! Why can't you just answer the damn question? If I thought it was cool, why would I have mentioned it? Okay, you want it set out plain and simple? Sure, it was a deal for me.  I didn't much like watching you with her for a number of reasons. I was jealous of her - and I was jealous of you. Bizarre, hey? And I know damn well you weren't happy about it. I could tell the way you made love to me. It felt more like a punishment beating - without the pain..."

He sat down and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I don't much go for that scene. It's more Dino's gig. But, if I commit to something, then I go through with it..."

Karina shook her head. "Have you heard yourself? It wasn't a case of duty done like a good soldier boy!  Cut the military-mumbo jumbo.  If you analyse what you said, it sounds more like denial to me. Mr. Cool Consenting Adult who has to make sure I know he doesn't usually go in for group orgies because he's not that kind of boy? Give me a break!  That's like being only a little bit pregnant. You either are or you're not. You either do or you don't.  Don't be fake with me, Terry.  You went there for a raunchy night meant to push your buttons, because sometimes you need a bit of that. But you got a shock.  And it still bothers you. Doesn't it? It's okay to say it."

He held up his hands. "Okay. You're right. You win. It made me sick. It made me angry. It made me even hornier.  It screwed up my head good and proper. And I'm not sure I've still got over knowing that I sat back and let..." He paused, wincing as he said the name. "...Dino...let Dino touch you..."

She said nothing. Somewhere in what he had said was something so huge she didn't dare peel any more of it away just then. This was more than Dino. That was hard enough for him. But there were greater disappointments than that implicit in how that night had resonated with him. She knew it for sure.

Because it was much the same for her. 

"It's okay, Terry. I understand. Stupid of me to bring it up. It's just that..."

"...I know. It's only when you feel the pain, that you realize you're bleeding...."

THE SECOND COMING

It started out as a leisurely day hike through the jungle.  Karina had wanted to get out, to move, to explore, her curious mind too wound up to keep still after days lazing on the beach.  Terry had indulged her because it gave him pleasure to do so. 

Boots.  A black tank.  Cut off camo pants. 

Her composure was shattered before they had gone so much as a single step.  It was the sun shades, chunky watch with digital compass and sheathed knife that really did her in.  She felt lightheaded just looking at him.

It was embarrassing.  Never in all her adult years had she ever had so visceral a reaction to anyone.  She had seen him in (and out) of casual clothes and sharp suits, but never in anything like that.  Who could say why she had reacted so strongly, only that she had.  He was rabbiting on about insect repellant, sunblock and the dangers of dehydration.  She hardly heard a word of it.

"God!  If Survivorman and Rambo had a lovechild...."

Terry looked up and smiled, accepting her odd compliment but blissfully unaware her composure hung by a tenuous thread.  "That doesn't even make any bloody sense." 

"It does from here."

"You women say some shit, you know?"  He just shook his head, hefting a small pack to his shoulder.  "Get the lead out, Gilligan.  It's a jungle out there..."

Karina groaned.  "It's a wonder Dino hasn't hung himself by now."  He actually giggled.  "Right behind you, Skipper."  Like she would pass up a chance to ogle his backside in those pants?  She just needed a moment to collect herself, first.  "I just need the loo..."

"Again?!  Must be something in your DNA.  Women, I mean... you all get a double helping of mouth and half a helping of bladder...  size of a bloody walnut..."  he was muttering under his breath now.  She didn't laugh because she knew it would only encourage him.

She ignored him instead, brushing past him before disappearing around the corner.  Once safely out of sight, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, breathing hard.  Her stomach felt heavy, her breasts tingled.  There was a buzzing in her ears and a wet trickle between her legs.  Her hands were actually trembling.  It was disorienting and a little frightening to want someone so desperately.  She inhaled sharply, covering her mouth with her hand and biting into the soft flesh of her palm.

Of course, that was the moment he rounded the corner.  It only heightened her color... and her reaction to him.

His intent to crack the whip melted instantly to concern.  "Hey, what's this now?  Feeling crook?  We don't have to go if you're feeling off..."  He had misread the signs initially, but the second their eyes met and he saw the intense fire raging there, he knew what her 'problem' was.

How unlike her.  Sex and wanting, however uninhibited, had never made her turn so much as a single hair.  Something else must be moving in her now for her to feel so vulnerable that she felt the need to conceal it from him.  Something even more intimate.  Something she was unused to. 

Clarity was crisp and instant.  It was more than sex and want.  He was under her brittle shell so deep she'd never get him out.  The rush was electric and hit him hard, intense like the bloodlust high after killing someone in hand-to-hand combat. 

In seconds the heat raging in her had jumped to him.  It was as if Hell had opened the gates and turned loose a blast furnace.  

She was too far gone to be embarrassed.  In moments his pants were open and he was deep in her throat.  It was surreal.  Karina could feel the knife at his side and hear the creak of the leather of his boots.  His zipper scratched her face and the slick floor was hard under her knees.  His hand was tangled in her hair, pulling so hard her eyes watered.  In was over in seconds.  A deep guttural grunt from him and then her long, protracted swallow as he sprayed the back of her throat.

The world spun as he dragged her to her feet, kissed her roughly and then spun her to face the wall.  She felt his teeth on her neck and shoulder.  The warm, yeasty scent of him clung to her face and hands, making her head swim as he hauled her back against him, shoved up her sarong and pulled her bikini bottom to the side.  She barely registered what was happening until she felt him swipe the thick tip of his renewed erection through her slick folds before ramming himself in deep.

Again?!  It was almost too much for her desire-soaked brain to comprehend.  Seconds later, with his hand massaging her roughly from the front and his breath growling in her ear, she didn't much care about anything except the heat building between her legs as he pounded into her wildly.

Afterward, they lay wrapped up together on the floor in the hall, resting on the cool surface, sweaty and disheveled.  His hair was wet at the temples and his cock was raw.  Her legs felt like jelly and what lay between ached pleasantly.  Her thighs were wet with him.  Neither of them cared. 

Her hand covered his over-stimulated flesh, not caressing, just holding him softly.  "God, Terry.  What the hell was that?"

He blew out slowly, "That was... nice."

"Nice?"  She blinked; if she'd had the energy, she would have sat up and shaken him.  "Nice is fluffy kittens or a good book or a hot cup of coffee on a cold day.  That was crude and raunchy and..." she felt him flinch at her words, "... and I loved every amazing second of it.  If I could give the two of you a standing ovation, I would, but I fear I may never walk again."

His laugh was low and deep, but he only nestled her in closer and smoothed his hand tenderly over her long silky hair, wrapping the thick length around his fist before rubbing it between his fingers like a doudou.  "I mean it's nice to know it's still within the realm of possibilities."   His manhood had taken a few hard knocks in the last year, though he didn't dwell on it, not now with satisfaction and satiation pushing out everything else but the warm glow in his chest.  "Thought I might be a bit past it, you know?"

She nestled deeper in his big warm body, touched by the vulnerability he had revealed.  Her body protested even that small movement.  Her fanny stung and her knees ached.  She had never felt so good.  "Well, Skipper... I can safely assure you, you've still got it.  And then some."

He seemed to finally relax then, a big sigh and then a groan.  "Well, my cock might think he's still seventeen, but the rest of me wants a big soft bed.  This floor is crap and I want a beer...."

"After that performance, I don't blame you for wanting to crack one open..."

His hand slid over her thigh possessively. "Crack another one open, you mean..."

It was crude, but honest and it made them both laugh.

A mop-up, a few beers, and one big soft bed later, they lay tangled together, happy but quiet.  Karina picked her head up off her arms.  "That was just like the first time... remember?"

He did.  

They had fallen in the door of his hotel room and he'd had her right there and then had her again not three steps away, all in under a handful of minutes.  "I do."  He thought back.  That had been more than a year ago, now.  After things had fizzled out between them following the trial, there had been other women in his life, and in his bed, before he'd reconnected with Karina once again.  That kind of sex had not happened with any of them, which proved it was less about what went on between the sheets and more about what went on between his ears.  He wasn't too sure how he felt about that.  He and Karina had always been incendiary together.... but why? 

"You're a bastard, you know that?"  She was only half joking.

"What the fuck?"  Had he not just rocked her world?  

"You have totally ruined me for other men."  He had.... but she still couldn't quite escape the feeling they were living on borrowed time.  And someday, perhaps even someday soon, the sting of his loss was going to cut her deeply, maybe irrevocably.

Coming from another woman, he would have thought she was just playing to his ego, but even if Karina had been that kind of woman, there was an edge to her words that gave him pause.  She actually believed it.  He was amazed. 

"Please!  Any randy teenager could probably do that twice over..."  He snorted, his humor drawing her back in from the edge.   "I could've.  Three times over... at least."  He looked impossibly smug.

"Mr. Modest, hey?  You are something else!  Still, I suppose you have earned the right to brag... I almost feel sorry for the girls you knew back then.  Terry Thorne at seventeen?  The only thing better than being a girl with you then is getting to be the one with you now."  Her eyes glittered.  "And I will have you know that not just any Johnny-jump-up will do.  Even a dozen erections an hour doesn't mean a thing without the knowledge of how to use them."  She leaned in and kissed his spent penis lightly.  "This is like the best of both worlds..."

"I'm glad you're impressed... but don't even bother trying to revive him while you are down there, love.  He is out for the count..."

"So's my fanny!"

"Hey, you have other holes..." he pointed out helpfully.

"Pity you don't have another cock then, you dirty bastard!"  She blobbed him with a grin. 

He lobbed the pillow straight back.  "Takes one to know one, babes..." 

THE REEL LIFE

It was raining.  And, naturally, because it was tropical rain, it didn't just rain but it teemed in a storm of near-Biblical proportions. Winds howled, palm trees bent double creaking ominously. Lightning flashed, Thunder cracked. The hammering on the roof and the rivers of water pouring down the suffering gutters made an almost deafening din.  The world outside turned into a grey-out so intense that it was as though they had woken up to find themselves in another reality. It seemed impossible that out there in that raging storm lay the beautiful seascape of the lazy hot days before. Had they dreamed it?

Terry was standing at the window staring out pensively, hands in the pockets of his shorts, the only thing he was wearing.

"Where's Noah when you need him, eh?"

"I take it you're hungry," Karina answered.  Neither of them fancied the run to the restaurant for breakfast. They had tried room service; Housekeeping was unable to deliver until the storm abated. It made sense. Who wants soggy breakfast? And the lightning would probably have loved the metal trolley. "There's fruit and some of those nutty bars in the refrigerator...what do you want with it, coffee or tea?"

"...You ever realized how boring it is in paradise when it rains?" Terry observed. "I mean, paradise just isn't set up for bad weather. If you're in London or Paris, no one gives a shit what's happening outside. Places like that are not dependent on the weather..."

"Good job because it's always awful there..." Karina chimed in as she brewed coffee, giving up on waiting for his choice.

"Exactly my point. So you grab an umbrella, hail a cab and go catch a show or a match, visit an art gallery, hole up in a bar..."

"Or just stay at home and amuse yourself," Karina suggested. "Do you actually know how to do that, Terry?"

He turned round. "What do you mean?"

"Do you ever spend a weekend at home just pottering around the house and catching up with chores and stuff?"

"Chores?" he repeated as if it was an alien word from a foreign language. "I have a cleaner..."

Karina laughed.  "Does she ....er...?" But she ran out of suggestions. Men didn't do their nails or laze around in bubble baths giving themselves facials. They didn't alter clothes or tend to the flowers on the balcony. She hazarded a guess Terry didn't even do manly household things like decorating or fixing leaks or working on his car. "...Cut your toenails?"

Terry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that would take all of a weekend to accomplish, wouldn't it?  I guess I'm not at home much.  What do I do?  I watch rugby on TV. Sink a few cans. Read a book. Then get bored and go out looking for trouble..."

"...Or go hang out round the bar at that damn Phoenix?"

She noticed he bridled slightly at her remark. 

"A guy has to have a local."

"Hardly a local. A 100-mile drive for a beer? And the sharp end of Miss Frou Frou's tongue ...? Can't be many men who'd choose to drink at the very bar owned by the new boyfriend..."

She expected one of his smart replies. Instead there was silence. She turned round. He was looking at her, an odd expression on his face, his hand running through his unruly hair.  He seemed about to say something significant.

"What we going to do today then?"

He had completely changed the subject. Whatever he had been on the brink of saying, he had changed his mind.

"We could go back to bed. There are still one or two Kama Sutra positions left we haven't tried..." she tried to make him laugh. He gave her a weak smile in return.

"Good idea.  Let's eat first."

He sat down at the table and poured out two cups of coffee while she prepared the fruit.   "Uma and I are still friends, you know? It doesn't mean anything. You don't have to feel worried about it..."

"I'm not worried about it. She's not my rival.  What happens between you and me depends only on me and you. I don't give a fuck what her agenda is...."

"...She doesn't have an agenda. Come on, Karina!" He snapped that one right back.

"...she is also insanely in love with that execrable Skinner. Christ knows what he's got to offer other than that he looks oddly like you...Terry, what is it about that place? Why do so many of the guys resemble you? Frankly it creeps me out..."

He stared into the dregs of his coffee cup forlornly.  "Want to watch a movie?"

Karina was caught off guard by his reply. "A movie?"

He shrugged. "It's something to do on a rainy day. Stay in, curl up in bed and watch a DVD..."

"Yeah, I get that, but why are you being so evasive? I've asked two questions that you have completely sidestepped. Every time I mention the Phoenix and Uma Murphy, or whatever she calls herself these days, you clam up and change the subject...Much as I would love to curl up in bed with you for the day, I get the feeling that you are hiding something..."

"Am I on the stand here, counselor?" This time there was a little more fire in his response.

"Of course not. But my question was a valid one. If we're now...well, you know...if there is something going on between us..."

"Is there?" His question was brutal. It hurt her. Terry never acted like that. He didn't play those kinds of games. Or so she thought. But the moment she had come near some imaginary boundary line he had erected, the old barriers were immediately raised.

"I don't know, Terry. But for me, it feels as though there is. And I think for you this time feels different as well. Things have been so good for once. I thought in the past your love life had generally been fucked.  And not in a good way..." she added with an old touch of her caustic edge.

"You know nothing about my life."

"That's because you choose to shut me out whenever I get remotely near to something real..."

He laughed coldly. "Well that's rich coming from you, babes."

She took a long breath before answering.  There was a sense that they were on a knife's edge. One false move and this fairy tale castle of theirs might just tumble. "I know I'm not easy. But you always seemed by far the nicer of the two of us. Today you're sounding like me. Should I be worried?"

He shrugged. "Let's go watch a movie..."

Karina was running out of patience. "I don't want to watch a movie! I want an answer to my question!"

"It was an answer to your question. The movie we are about to watch is about me. You want to know about my fucked up life before I met you? Well, you already know the Uma part.  Watch the movie and you get the fuck up I made earlier..."

He logged onto his laptop.  Karina had exercised a woman's right to change her mind at the last moment regarding his laptop.  She was impatient and wanted to be able to view the pictures they took with their digitals straight away, provided he did not use it to contact the outside world.  Terry had only smirked.  He was a master at negotiation.  He'd gotten what he wanted.  And so had she.

"What are you talking about, Terry? A movie about you? That's insane..."

"Just watch it. Then we'll talk. I've been looking for a time. Now seems as good as any. Which must answer another of your questions...I don't show this to just any girl, you know...? Ergo...this thing of ours may very well be an embryonic relationship. At least until the final credits roll..." He gave her a sheepish grin.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and shuffled back to sit by him, her brain struggling to make sense of what he was saying. It couldn't. She decided to go with the flow anyway. "This movie got a name?"

He flashed her a look. "My Real Life? No, actually it has an even more inappropriate title: Proof of Life. Although I wonder whether it isn't exactly the opposite...Okay, honey, sit back and enjoy the show..."

"No!" Her hand shot out and pressed paused even before the opening titles were completed.  

"Why did you do that?" Terry asked, surprised by her unexpected action. 

Karina threw herself back down onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling, her arm over her eyes. "I don't get it. I don't understand how you can have a film about your life. Or part of it. Or any of it.  And I'm not sure I want to. But whether or not such a thing exists, I don't want to see it. Turn it off. "

He set the laptop aside and lay down next to her, keeping a distance but remaining close, resting on one arm. "I didn't mean to throw this at you all at once. It's just that...you should know. All the others know. You have a right to my secrets more than most. You deserve to know who am I. Or what I am..."

She gave his words some thought, trying to make sense of them. Trying to make sense of her own instinctive objection. "I spend my working life sniffing other people's dirty underwear. I employ sleazy private detectives, computer hackers, bugs, hidden cameras, betrayal by friends, lovers, family...I use anything I can to dig up secrets and worm my way into the intimacy of private lives. I will not do that with you. I want to know you, Terry. Everything about you - but I want to learn it the right way.  Over time, through discovery, little by little, unwrapping the wonderful mystery that is another human being...I don't want this backdoor covert peek into your past. It won't be real anyway. It never is. How can a two-hour movie really tell me what I want to know? The facts are irrelevant. They won't give me your soul... Only you can trust me with that..."

It was Terry's turn to be amazed. He lay down besides her, staring at the same ceiling. It was not the reaction he had expected. But a wave of relief flooded over him all the same. He understood at that moment how much he had dreaded the experience of watching her watching him and seeing the mess he had made of his life. Not that an illicit love affair was the real issue. Everyone has those in their past.  What he feared most had been that she would see what a shell of a man he really was, clutching at a passing ship in the night because he had no other place of safety. Taking another man's woman just because he could, rather than going out and winning a life of his own.

"Thank you. Thank you so very much.  But you need to know things about me. You need to know that before I arrived at the Phoenix one day a few years back, it appears I existed only in a celluloid world..." Even as he said the words he frowned. How could anyone even begin to accept a piece of bull like that?

Oddly enough, Karina Mareva seemed able to. "No, you didn't. You had a successful company. You knew Dino. Cullen Murphy worked for you and he married Uma...You exist. Al those people know you..."

"Maybe...Doesn't explain the film though..."

"Who could have made it? It makes no sense!"

"You said it, babes. I can't explain it. There are more theories as to the origin of it all than the Kama Sutra has positions. We could talk round this all day and be none the wiser. All I can say for sure is that the guys who resemble me at the Phoenix each have a movie of their own. Look..." He opened a media file on his laptop and there they were, lists of different films, each one starring one of the Phoenix men. Even Skinner.

Karina stared at the screen. "How is this even possible?"

Terry hunched his shoulders again.  "I have no definitive answers. But maybe you can understand now the attraction the Phoenix has for me? It may be the only place I'm real. Rather than 'reel'..." His attempt at the joke fell flat.

Karina sat up, grabbing him by the shoulders, kneeling over him. "Terry, you are real! What on earth are you saying?  This is real. You are a real man!"

He sighed. "Is it? Am I? Sometimes I don't know myself. Maybe one day I'll simply disappear back into my film...I need that support group, Karina. They're the only ones who really understand..."

Karina paused, a thought striking her. "Uma...she's more than a fag hag, isn't she?"

Terry smiled at the term she had used. "Much more. Even she doesn't really understand what her true role is, but she seems to be some sort of conduit. There's no doubt about that. Karina, she needs support, too. Her position isn't enviable. It's hard for her to have her own life with the responsibility of all these guys and their fucked up lives..."

Karina made a face as if she would take much more convincing than that to feel sympathy for the lady in question. "She'll live. Skinner will make sure of that.  He mustn't be over-fond of all this sharing. I can see him chafing at the bit to keep her all for himself..."

They both laughed.

"You're being remarkably sanguine about this, darling," Terry observed, drawing her closer to him. "Most women would freak."

"Terry, I am hardly most women. And I can't go running for the nearest escape route in a storm of this magnitude, so I guess I'm stuck with you. Terry, I've had a very eventful life.  Your little bombshell isn't the weirdest thing I've ever heard, you may be surprised to know. What I'm trying to say is, it doesn't change anything. While I may take awhile to compute it - and I do expect more information from you down the line - that is not the sort of revelation that is going to scare me off.  Not in this rain anyway..." she smiled and snuggled back into his arms. "So, this film...When did it take place? What happened to you that was so pivotal that someone made a film out of it?"

He gave her a sideward glance. "Thought you weren't interested?"

Karina rolled over him again. "I never said I wasn't interested in your life! I'm burning with curiosity. I said I didn't want to find out by sneaking a peek into your personal journal. But there's nothing to stop you doing the normal thing and just telling me briefly what went down..."

He gave her request some thought.  His mind made up, he stretched his arms behind his head and began to talk.  "I had an ill-advised affair whilst on an assignment. Fell for a client's wife. That's a major conflict of interest in my business. An ethical dilemma. Save him, lose the girl, or... Let's just say I was tempted to break my perfect score on hostage rescues..."

He had retreated into professional-speak. Karina knew what must lie between those lines.

"...but you -being Terry Thorne- saved the guy all the same... Some might say that wasn't as much a fuck up as an act of integrity..."

His eyes met hers directly, "...And others might say I should have kept my hands out of her panties in the first place...There's no excuse for professional misconduct, especially with vulnerable clients. I took advantage...simple as..."

"...And you paid the price. What was she like? This woman who was worth breaking every rule in your book? She must have been something special..."

He shrugged. She knew she wasn't going to get any more right now. "Pretty woman. Smart. Brave. Alone....And, It had been a while.... I was at a difficult age..."

Karina grinned, ruffling up his hair. "Hmmm, I imagine that is the understatement of the year. You really are such a boy, you know? Everyone has a movie of their past going on inside their head, Terry. It's called imperfect memory. Most of us are not fortunate enough to be able to play it back and refer to it when we need to see our mistakes in full Technicolor from the relatively impartial distance of the present. Maybe you should count yourself lucky? You get the chance to start again - and the information to make damn sure you never make the same mistake again..."

"Plus the humiliation of knowing other people have seen all your dirty secrets?"

"That the dirtiest you can manage?  You slept with a client's wife? Jesus. Is that the best you can do? What are you, a freaking saint?"

Terry flopped back on the pillow, laughing. "I forgot, I'm sleeping with the Queen of Darkness herself..."

"Is that what she calls me?" Karina asked, laughing despite herself.

He shook his head. "No. That's what I call you. Her names are much, much nastier..."

The invisible tension that had risen in the air as electric as the storm outside had subsided. Suddenly the idea of a whole day in bed seemed eminently desirable. Karina ran her hand down his chest, down, down, down until she reached the shapeless khaki shorts. Her fingers settled on his zipper, stroking the pliable flesh beneath that soon began to show resistance.

"Now that's exactly what a girl needs on a miserable wet day..." she murmured as she deftly worked the zip open.

His hand rested over hers, stopping her momentarily. "What you just said. About everyone having a movie...I'd never really thought there might be a positive about all this crap...Thank you for seeing something no one else ever has. Even if it's a load of bollocks...you have no idea how it feels to have a woman like you on my side..."

She blushed.  A woman like her? That sounded awfully like the best compliment she had ever had in her life, from a man whose opinion counted more than any other. Terry Thorne brought out emotions in her that she had never known before. Or maybe she had once felt them. Long ago. Before she had learned to hide them so deep that she had forgotten they still existed.

But the burning question still remained. Was their movie going to be a happy ending or a Greek tragedy? She knew right there and then that whichever way they went, there was no turning back now.

He stroked her face, pushing back her hair, tenderness where other men might have turned to passion to hide their discomfort. That was so Terry. "You do know that it's your turn next? With or without a movie..." his eyes danced, not entirely without malice. He wouldn't let this one go; she knew that.

She reached out and held his face in her hands. "Enough for one day. But I hear you, mate.  Soon. Just be careful what you wish for, Terry.  I am the Queen of Darkness after all..." He laughed, the deep chuckle of a man relieved. Karina did not join him this time. She wasn't sure she had really been joking.

BEACH BUMS

Karina was watching Terry from under the brim of her oversized sunhat.  

"You know, sometimes I think I like the anticipation of the act almost more than the sex itself." Her slow lethargic words took a minute to penetrate his muzzy head.   

Terry looked up from where they were sharing a quiet afternoon dozing naked in the hammock.  "Thanks much.  You always know just what to say to make me feel like a million bucks, babes," he groused, huffing in amusement at the idea, and at women and their bizarre notions in general.  He couldn't quite seem to grasp the idea.  Who could blame him?  The concept didn't exactly make much sense to the male brain.    

She laughed and swatted him lazily.  "Hey!  I said almost."

"Well, that makes it all better, hey?  I'll have to remember that one the next time I stuff one up.  'No, no, babes....I said it almost makes you look fat....'" He rolled his eyes and threw his arm back over his face; whatever was on her agenda, he was still intent on an afternoon siesta. 

"I mean it," she said dreamily, half dozing herself.  The long days of playing on the beach and longer nights playing in each other's arms had taken their toll.  Now, with the sun at its zenith, all she wanted to do was laze in the afternoon heat with him.  Talking about sex didn't have to be a prelude to sex.  What a novel idea for the pair of them.  She ruffled his unruly hair, rubbing the silky texture between her fingers before smoothing it back off his face.  It was easier to talk to him like this while they were both pleasantly sapped and sleeping off the pitcher of margaritas that had followed lunch, his face hidden under his arms and hers under her hat.  "I think it's something to do with being able to appreciate the anticipation without distraction.  When I am in the moment... there is just something about being with you that makes it impossible to do anything other than be present with you."

He said nothing but his lips turned up at the corners.  She took it as an invitation to continue.

"I like looking at you and knowing that you're going to touch me.  It's just a matter of when... and how.  I like wondering if it's going to be your hands or your mouth or-"

His cock.  He didn't say it.  "It makes you wet," he observed instead.  

"It does."  

He smiled.  So did she.  He could make her body weep in anticipation.  Karina had had her share of talented lovers over the years who could arouse her with a touch, but only one other man had ever held such a power over her that her own desire for him, that even the mere thought of him, was enough.  It hadn't happened in years and that Terry could - and did - inspire such a reaction from her regularly was as exciting as it was surprising. 

Terry was smiling, too.  However wrong it might be, given their rocky history, it felt damned good to see and feel the undeniable proof that she wanted him.  It was a visual physical reaction she couldn't control or hide, which it made it all the more attractive.  It never got old.  It never failed to move him. 

"It's electric.  We are, together, I mean.  Every time.  I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest thinking about what we will do and how you will taste and the feel of your skin under my fingertips...the way your voice drops and gets soft and rumbly when you've had enough foreplay and you tell me to brace against your shoulders or to get on my knees... that you have to fuck..."

He shivered at the image her stark words conjured.  It felt odd and slightly erotic to have gooseflesh rise so quickly under the dead heat of the afternoon sun, rather like an erection, albeit on a much smaller scale.  "If this is an apology for before, you're doing a bang up job, kid."

She snuffed in amusement and closed her eyes.  His big warm body was next to hers and the world was spinning pleasantly from the tequila.  She didn't want the odd sensation of vertigo to stop.  "As if!  Besides, if it was one, you wouldn't have to ask.  I don't apologize often, but when I do, I pull out all the stops."

"Well, I won't hold my breath."

"You are ruining the mood!"

"What mood?  Thought we were napping?"  He was only half serious.  Her final erotic comments had brought with them the first stirrings of arousal.  The direction it sent his thoughts brought more heat.  And an erection.

They were both silent a while; he was lost in thought, she was spent from the unexpected confession and exhausted enough that the thick heat of arousal was quickly slipping into a warm prelude to sleep.

He couldn't get the image her words had called up out of his head.  

"You like it that way."

His words startled her.  She was almost asleep and had lost the thread of conversation.  "Hmmm...?" 

"From behind.  You like it that way." He had been paying attention.  She came more frequently if she was on top, but the orgasms she experienced when he took her from behind were in a class by themselves; wild and unfettered.  They always made her shake.  Sometimes she keened.  Sometimes she wept.  They had a long history of random encounters with each other, but it was easier to see the patterns this way.  They had never spent so many days and nights together.

She was glad for the hat that hid her fierce blush from him.  "I like it every way," she countered.  She was totally comfortable with sex, but as was typical of him, he was using a conversation about sex to lift back the layers and reveal something even more intimate. 

He moved his arm off his face so he could observe her.  "You like it when I mount you from behind." His words were specifically chosen to elicit a reaction.  And they did.  A bloom of color spread across her chest and a wave of gooseflesh rose in the wake of a full body shiver.  Bingo.

"Terry!"  He ignored her soft gasp, intent now on testing the outer limits of this newfound boundary.

His voice dropped.  "Nothing gets to you more.  On your knees, chest down on the bed, waving your fanny in my face... so wet.  Dripping."

"You or me?" she squeaked; a desperate attempt to divert his focus.

He was not swayed.  His low rumbling laughter said as much.  "You... all pink and open and inviting."  It was like an express invitation for him to... let's be honest.  For him to do whatever he damn well pleased.  He was thankful that she was too rattled to notice his frisson of unease as some of his own intimate layers were revealed.  Something about it pushed her buttons.  His, too.  "Did you know you always tremble when you feel me move in behind you?"  Why was that?  Desire?  Fear?  Longing?  A primitive biological drive?  Some need of hers to let go and be dominated by someone for a change?  Did he really want to know? 

And what did that say about his own response?  Taking her that way was incendiary and brain-scorching in a way bordered on a religious experience.  Sure he liked a little variety, but when his relationships found a rhythm and settled into some approximation of normality, missionary had always been the old standby.  Why was something else suddenly rocking his boat? 

Examining it didn't make him feel too sunny.  It was a pretty hardcore image she presented that way, her face obscure, her vulva exposed, often already rose pink and swollen from his attentions.  To the exposed tip of his cock, it was the perfect pouty kiss and brought to his mind the image of a flower, color deepening and moisture gathering in its folds.  He liked how she looked after he had spent himself even more, that delicate flower bruised and dewy, the color even more deep, the whorls and petals more open. 

Why did he like it better that way?  Probably for the same reason men had felt the need to tromp across a perfectly pristine field of snow since the dawn of time.

It could be fast or slow, violent or tender.  His hands would find her breasts or hips, his mouth her neck or shoulder.  Sometimes he pulled her hair.  Sometimes he held her down.  Sometimes he held her hips so hard it took hours for the marks to fade.

Always before he had gotten pleasure from giving pleasure to his partner.  Karina was rather a different kettle of fish.  She got pleasure from giving him free rein to do whatever he wanted.   What lit her fire was working out what his preferences revealed about what lit his fire.  After a lifetime of finding it easier to give pleasure than to receive, he had found someone who had turned everything on its head.  He was a quick study, however, especially when the homework was so rewarding.

Waves washed up and down the beach.         

The moment waned.  So did his erection.

The drinks and the sun drew out the silence once more.

Terry chucked to himself.  "I would totally do you right here - from behind.  If I could move, that is..."

"If I could roll over, I would totally let you."

The unease was shelved for another day and time.

Karina giggled.  

Terry snored.

CROWNING GLORY

Terry shuffled around by the table, sorting out a modest spread of wine and cheese.

"You know, I think that might be the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

Only the soft cool hand casually running over the front of his jeans kept Terry from turning his head to look at the beach over his shoulder.  For a moment he'd imagined her interest had been caught by some young Adonis running shirtless over the white sand.  "What are you on about?  I pull KP duty and suddenly I am God's gift?"  Karina wasn't often so forthcoming, at least not without a painful amount of prodding on his part. 

"Hardly!  Though the idea does have some appeal..."

His eyes narrowed.  "Are you up to something?"

She just shook her head, laughing.  "No!  Well, yes.  But one has absolutely nothing to do with the other."  Her hand cupped the soft droop of his genitals through the worn denim, the book she had been reading left open, forgotten for the moment.  "Can't a woman just share her appreciation for you in those jeans without having an ulterior motive?"

"A regular woman, maybe.  You, however...."

A few days in paradise had transformed Terry from urbane professional into Crocodile Dundee, beach bum.  Now, at two weeks in, between the heavy scruff and very minimal amount of comfortably worn clothes, he could easily pass for a contestant on Survivor.  She particularly enjoyed how he looked in those faded jeans, barefoot and gloriously naked underneath.  They were hardly tight, but he had a big cock and the thick length hung down the inside of one leg, making a very enticing bulge when he moved just right.  "Those jeans are positively indecent."  She stroked the soft bulge again for emphasis, a bit surprised at how far down his inner thigh her hand actually had to travel to caress his entire length.  "I can practically tell your religion!"

"Hey!  They aren't that tight!"

"No, your cock is just that big..."

He tutted, but his eyes were glittering with amusement.  "Right, that's me.  Terry Thorne, Sausage King."  He rolled his eyes at her.  "Sorry, sweetheart, but from what I hear, the title of King Dick of the World belongs to someone else..."

His comment might have just been a bit of self depreciating Aussie humor, but they both knew who he meant.  It wasn't imbued with insecurity or venom, but they could both hear the thread of seriousness that had crept in under the jocularity.  It made her bristle slightly, but then again, even now, that was often her first reaction when they were on uncertain ground. 

"Oh, sure... because that's the pinnacle you all to aspire to, isn't it?  The standard it's all judged by?  The best lover is the one with the biggest cock, and never mind if he knows how to use it or not?  You think we all want one as long and thick as a bricklayer's arm?"

"If the boot fits-"

"Why stop there, then?  How about as big as a baseball bat and twice as thick?  Hell, how about a tree trunk with two cannonballs hanging beneath?"  

The first image had been distasteful enough to his mind, but now she was veering into the absurd.

"Terry, you do realize any woman who could comfortably take a man that big would have to have a fanny as wide as the Holland Tunnel?  And most likely a head just as empty...."

Terry's warm laughter boomed out at the visual her acerbic words conjured.

"There is that."

Karina grinned.  "Logan wasn't actually the biggest I've ever seen, you know."

Terry held up his hands in surrender. "Stop right there."  Maybe he could just smother her next volley before she said something that made him really wish he was deaf.  It was tempting.

"Oh, no.  You deserve it, pal.  It was years ago in Amsterdam.  One of those live sex shows.  I went on a dare.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  I didn't even think it was real.  Well, not until his performance convinced us otherwise.  Talk about your mutant freaks..."   

Terry had his fingers in his ears.  "La-la-la-LA-LALALALA....."

"That doesn't work.  I know you can hear me..."

He tackled her and kissed her to shut her up, shoving a bite of Gruyère in her mouth when they came up for air and then a glass of wine into her hand for the purpose of self preservation.

"I'm not finished with you yet," she added after taking a modest swallow of the hearty wine.

"God, I hope not." His grin was positively wicked. 

"And for your information, length is totally overrated.  You only need so much..."  She shrugged.  "The rest is-"

"Just for show?"

"You would say that!"  She threw a bit of cheese at him.  "The rest is just wasted, unless you're into pain."  They both grimaced.  "Girth however, is another matter entirely...

"Is that right?"

"Mmm-hmm.... And I can say with certainty, and no small amount of pleasure, that crown is yours and yours alone, sir..."

"Bugger the monarchy!  I don't give two shits about that, just so long as the coronation is eminent.."

"Well, wouldn't you know?  I have a crown of thorns right here..."

He shuddered.  "You bloody would say that..."  He drew her to him.  "Keep the fucking crown.  I've already got my own thorn..."

"Thorne."

"Bloody lawyers."

CROSS PURPOSES

"Are things with your dad really as bad as all that?" 

"Did you really mean what you said about a crisis of confidence... losing out to the bigger dick?"

If he was going to pick, so was she.

"I'll answer if you will.  Otherwise you get precisely dick."

That made her smile.  "Had it already, thanks."

"Answer the damned question, will you?  These circular conversations drive me demented."

"Count of three, then?"

"For the love of-"

"Yes, then.  Happy now?"

"No.  Not really.  Not if you're still hurting."  

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"The same could be said of you, unless that line about losing out to the bigger dick was just a ploy to get me to let you in my apartment that night."

"It wasn't.  Even I'm not that much of a bastard."

"Or that good of a liar."

"That, too....  So when was the last time you saw your father?"

"Before law school.  I was summoned home.  One did not ignore such an order, though I made it as unpleasant as possible.  I was young and stupid and brought my girlfriend.  That did not go over well for any of us."  He whistled softly, imagining how that might have played out.  Antiquated family patriarch forced to accept his wayward child throwing her lover in his face under his own roof?  Whatever she felt she owed her father, Karina was hotheaded and would have flaunted her untraditional lover, of that he was certain.  How sad for them all.  "Terry, the thing with Logan...  It wasn't what you thought."

"Oh, I think it was.  I know how it works.  The best revenge.  Choose someone bigger.... Bet he made you come, eh?  Bet you were sticking it up me at the same time, huh?"

By all rights she should have been spitting fire.  He didn't expect her laughter.  "Actually... no.  I had to make myself come... both times."  His expression must have said it all.  "I told you... it was not at all what you imagined."

"I don't know what I imagined."  That was a lie.  He had all the pertinent puzzle pieces.  The guy had superhuman strength, limitless stamina, uncharted powers of recovery and he'd had a hundred or so years to perfect his technique.  Who would have thought that those dots wouldn't connect the way he assumed?  She'd had to make herself come?  He could barely wrap his mind around that, and as he turned it over in his head, he didn't much like what he came up with.

"The truth is that I used him to hurt you and to hurt myself.  I wanted to go someplace dark and I didn't care if he followed me there because he meant nothing to me."  She was under no illusion she had meant anything to him, either.  How was that for brutal honesty?

Wait.  She took him there?  Surely not.  "You sure it wasn't the other way round?"  

"I'm sure."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"You mean you'd rather not believe me.  It's okay.  You can say it."

"Okay, then.  I'd rather not believe you.  I'd rather not think about it at all."  Except now it was even worse than he'd imagined.  As painful as it was, he'd rather imagine her having the best sex of her life with some superhuman studhorse rather than consider the alternative.  The idea of her hurting herself, metaphorically or otherwise, sickened him.  Logan didn't seem the type to hurt a woman, but if there was ever a female born who could drive man to violence, it was Karina.  Hell, she did it to him and he was half in love with her.  How much more would he be capable of without that tenderness blunting the sharper edge of his temper?

"Come on... you can't expect me to believe you never let your demons out with a woman.  Never took a walk on the darker side?  Like there's never been a moment of 'face up against the wall' and forty-five seconds would be a long time...."  He wondered if there was any significance to the sexual position she had just mentioned.  He filed that way for later and flatly ignored her attempt to turn this around on him.  Sure he had his own demons, but they were better shelved for a time he wasn't so emotionally unstable.  He was still too angry to entertain that line of questioning. 

"So how did it end?  The trip with your father."

"Are we done talking about Logan?"

"I am."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you again just now.  I was just trying to explain that it wasn't what you thought."

"Great.  I feel so much sunnier now, thanks."  For once, he allowed the hurt to wash over him and stuck the White Knight act on the shelf next to his box of demons.  Definitely time for a permanent change of subject.  "So?  Your father?" 

She reluctantly accepted the shift and acknowledged it with a small nod.  "How did it end?  Badly."  Understatement.  "He had called me home to inform me he'd secured the perfect husband for me to ensure his financial empire lived on, that the arrangements had already been made and that once I birthed an heir or two, money would be available to me to live whatever life I wanted, provided nothing I did reflected badly upon the family.  I told him to cram it and informed him I would be attending law school at the start of the next term."

"And how did that little pearler go over?"

"I thought he might actually have a coronary.  He was purple with rage.  When he recovered the power of speech, he cut me off financially and ordered me out within the hour.  Nasira was just collateral damage."

"Nasira?"  His eyebrows went up.

"I know.  I brought a Muslim woman home to the Fuehrer.  I regret that.  I can't even claim hindsight and all of that.  I knew what I was doing.  Nasira deserved better from me on all accounts."  It wasn't as bad as it sounded, at least not as far as her lover had been concerned.  Nasira was in her 'I am a gay woman, hear me roar' phase of embracing her sexuality and had rather enjoyed flaunting their relationship; something along the lines of earning her 'lesbian' stripes.     

"Not too many Muslims openly ride the other bus... you sure can pick them, babes..."

"Yes, one of my many talents."  She gave him a pointed look.  He was one of the 'chosen', too.  "What can I say?  I like trouble.... Just not the kind we got that night.  My father vented his frustration on her before snapping the purse strings shut.  It wasn't pretty."

"That must've been a rude shock."  Karina was a woman of cultured tastes, used to grand living even if it had been a lonely existence in the best boarding schools money could buy.  He imagined the transition from that lofty height to starving student had been pretty brutal for her.

"It was."  She grinned.  "I found I quite liked money and had become rather accustomed the lifestyle buckets of it provided.  It was sorely missed."  It also lit an incandescently bright fire under her to get back all the things she had lost.

The note of wistful longing in her voice made him smile, even as he was aware she must have suffered a lot for her ideals and her pride, especially in the beginning, though if her current apartment was anything to judge by, she had more than made up for the lean years.  What a testament to her intractability and sheer bloody-mindedness.  "So how did you manage law school without daddy's silver spoon then?"

"The same way most people do, I imagine.... Sold my soul to the devil!  Put myself massively in debt to fund school and worked my way through living on that pittance."  It had been rough but there was no way she was ever going to accept another cent from her father as long as she lived, not that he had offered either then or now.

"Dare I ask doing what?"

His amused trepidation made her giggle.  "I worked at a club."

"Dancing?" He rolled his eyes, imagining her gyrating around a pole while a bunch of horny arseholes looked on with their tongues hanging out, stuffing money down her g-string.

Karina burst out laughing.  "God, no!  You actually have to have tits to shake for that job!  I don't qualify now and I sure didn't then!"  That made him laugh, too.  "I worked behind the bar.... Served drinks... that got old fast.  Eventually I insinuated myself with the management."

"Jesus.  I hope that isn't as bad as it sounds.  I don't need any more surprises."

"Sorry to disappoint you, baby, but it was really more like a PA thing... which, as you well know, is really just a nice way to say I was a glorified gopher... helped in the office, answered the phone, ran errands... picked up the dry cleaning.  You know, the same crap you heap on that poor PA of yours."   He didn't even have the good grace to look sheepish. 

"Glad to hear it.  No more hundred year old lovers lurking in the wings, then?"

"Hardly."  Her expression was unreadable, which was pretty much par for the course with Karina.  "Though I can't say having a wealthy patron wouldn't have been nice, but sadly the only coattails I had to ride were my own."  It wasn't exactly true, but she had kept to the spirit of the law, if not the letter.

"And Nasira?"

"Are you kidding?  Those were some rough years.  I barely had time to work, let alone eat, sleep or have a life outside school.  I didn't even have time for sex, much less an actual relationship." 

"Bullshit."  But he was grinning when he said it.  

"Well, okay... not much sex."

He slapped her backside playfully and pulled her astride him with a dirty little bark of laughter.  "That's my girl...."

BON VOYAGE

"Why the fuck do women always do that?"  You'd never catch a man down on all fours looking under the bed to be sure he hadn't left a shoe or some essential article behind before he checked out of his room.  Still, the sight of her shapely behind waving in the air while she rummaged around brought a smile to his lips. 

"Because we have more sense than you do, naturally."  Karina hopped up, brushing off her knees.  "And because I really, really like these earrings... and when you bit it off, you weren't exactly in the mood to stop and set it carefully aside, now were you?"  She slipped the delicate bit of dangling amber into place, smoothing her hair back as she did so.    

Terry just shook his head.  "All set, then?"  He looked around.  The room seemed colder, more sterile with all their personal clutter packed up; almost a little bit sad.  He shook the maudlin thought away.  Usually at the end of such a long reprieve, he was impatient to get back to the familiar rhythm of his work. 

Not this time.     

"I can't believe it's over already.  When we left, three weeks sounded like an eternity...."  She slipped her hand into his.  "...but it seemed to flash by."

He nodded, as reluctant as she was to let the last threads of this romantic place go as they prepared to return to the real world; to the cold blustery weather, disapproving friends and the daily grind of their fast paced jobs.  "One more walk on the beach?  There's time..."

Karina shook her head.  "No.  I want to remember it like it was this morning."  Their eyes met; each rich and glowing with their own memories of the tender interlude they'd shared as dawn broke over their little island paradise.  "Time to face the music."

"Don't be so dramatic."  He hummed a familiar little dirge in jest as they walked to the boat launch, struggling to contain the tide of his own emotions.  "Hey, Gilligan... I think we've been rescued."  She didn't even crack a smile.  "It's not the end, you know...." he whispered into her hair as they approached the waiting boat.

"It feels like it."  They had had an amazing time together; talking, exploring, making love, sparring, feeling each other out, opening each other up... and yet, Karina still couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around them.  With it came the gnawing sense they had only been creating a romantic idyll rather than building a firmer foundation. 

"Jinx it, why don't you... Don't you think we have enough challenges without you adding one more?"

"Me?!"  She blew out in a huff.  "Keep right on thinking that if it suits you, Skipper.  One more thing you can blame me for later..."

He felt his blood pressure rise.  "I swear if you say 'kiss me one last time, lover' I will fucking throw you overboard."  But he was grinning when he said it.  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close... "Oh, to hell with it...."

His plan worked.  The Five Alarm Stunner he'd laid on her rocked her back.  She didn't say another word the whole boat trip back.  And she didn't let go of his hand, either.

They might just have a chance after all....