Flight to Paradise Ch. 08

He looks at her, thinking over what she said, not sure how to respond. "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't intend to make you feel that way," he says quietly, reaching over and taking her hand. "I hope you know that I enjoy your company much more than for just sexual dalliances."

She smiles, patting his hand with her other one. "I know. I feel the same way about you. Compared to some, yeah, I sleep around. But I won't go to bed with just anyone, and I sleep with only one man at a time. I think of them as a series of short-term relationships. Some of the relationships may only last a few days, a week maybe. Others will go on for a couple of months. It just depends." She gives him a small smile. "You were going to my first one-night stand in a long time, over a year. Seems like it didn't work out that way because here we are... and here's our food."

They eat in silence for a time as he tries to get his mind around this woman. She's so strong, so independent, so... Kate.

"Kate," he finally says, just to break the growing silence, "would it upset you if I told you I'm glad it didn't work out the way you planned?"

She graces him with a winning smile. "Would it surprise you if I said I'm also glad it didn't work out as I planned?"

He chuckles. "I'm beginning to think there is very little you can do that surprises me. You seem capable of nearly anything, and I mean that in all the best, most positive ways. You are one hell of a woman, Katherine Thompson. Someone to be admired."

"Why Bertrand McMillan, are you trying to seduce me?" she asks with a smile before leaning in closer to him. "Because if you are, you're doing a damn good job of it."

He flushes in embarrassment. "No, not really. I meant what I said, and I can tell you that you have at least two admirers in this mall today."

"Oh really? And who would they be," she asks with a playful lilt in her voice.

"I'm one, obviously. The girl that checked me out with the swimsuit is the other. She thinks you're beautiful." He pauses, waiting for her to speak. The moment she looks like she's about to say something he continues, "I told her she was right."

She looks at him, his complement warming her soul. "You're not so bad yourself."

He pushes his plate away, pleasantly surprised at the taste and quality of the food, but still unable to eat the entire calzone. She appears to have the same problem since a crust and half a slice of pizza are still on her plate. He reaches over, picks up the half-eaten piece, and takes a bite out of it, returning the remainder to her plate. "Pretty good," he acknowledges.

"I thought so, but those two slices are a third of a pizza. I can't eat it all."

He points to the remains of his calzone. "I have the same problem." He looks at the check and transfers the money to the restaurant's account, along with a nice tip. "Let's go. I want there to be some daylight left for swimming."

"Right behind you," she says, rising with him.

They enter and leave two men's stores before finding one that sells swimsuits. He can't care less what his suit looks like, only the length, so he selects a half-dozen and holds them to his waist to check the length, keeping the two shortest, which he carries to a changing room. He tries both suits on but is unhappy with the fit of each one. He changes back into his regular pants to look somewhere else, but also about ready to give up and simply cut some length off the right leg on the suit he has at home. When he exits the room, he finds Kate standing outside the booth, hips cocked, twirling a small black bathing suit on one finger.

She knows before Mac goes into the changing room that both suits are going to be too long, so she keeps looking until she finds what she's looking for. The minute she hears him grab the door handle she begins to twirl the suit on her pointer finger, a big grin on her face.

"Oh, hell no!" he protests. "I'm not wearing those," but she keeps smiling and spinning the suit on her finger as she nods her head. "No! No way!" he protests again.

"Oh, stop being such a baby. Come on, I'll help," she says pushing him back into the booth and closing the door behind her. It is a tight squeeze with both of them in there, which is no bad thing to her way of thinking.

"Kate," he says as her fingers begin unbuckling his pants, "I'm not wearing that."

"Okay, fine, but you have to at least try it on."

He steps out of his pants and pulls the tiny suit on, but it won't go over his boxers. "It won't fit," he says in satisfaction.

"Huh-uh. All the way then," she says, pointing at his crotch.

"Kate, I—" he begins.

"All the way," she repeats, her tone brooking no argument.

He sighs in defeat and removes his boxers and pulls the swimsuit on. "I feel ridiculous in this thing," he complains. "A diaper would cover more."

"Shirt too," she says, snapping her fingers and flicking her finger in a take it off motion. "I want to see what it looks like."

He sighs again and removes his shirt. "Happy?"

When he removes his shirt her breath hitches in her throat. Standing so close to him, and with him in that suit, and nothing but that suit, she can feel her color rising. "You do not look ridiculous in that," she states firmly before leaning in a little closer. "But you'd better take it off and get dressed, otherwise we may end up fucking right here, and that would be embarrassing for both of us," she whispers.

He could feel his penis twitch at the thought of them fucking their brains out in the dressing room, their moans of pleasure heard throughout the store. What the hell is wrong with me! I'd never have even considered such a thing two weeks ago! Is she getting to me that much? He shakes off the feeling.

"Perhaps that would be best," he says peeling the suit off like a second skin, his penis hardening in spite of himself.

She notices his penis and a small smile crosses her lips. When he straightens, boxers in hand as he pulls them up, she gives his cock one slow, gentle, caress, from base to tip, causing him to hiss and twitch. "Perhaps it is, but we're buying these if I have to pay for them myself," she purrs. As he snaps and zips his pants, a noticeable bulge showing in front, she slips out and closes the door. "When you're ready come on out," she says to the closed door, and then turns to the waiting clerk. "These. Definitely these."

The clerk's eyes crinkle as she smiles, taking the suit and ringing it out, causing Kate to wonder if she'd overheard her whispered suggestion they might start fucking in the changing room. Probably not, but imagining him in that suite, I bet she's thinking the same thing I was. Kate transfers the money to the store from her account with a small smile of her own. She kind of liked being the envy of every woman that saw them, and besides, he bought her the suit he likes, and she buys him the suit she likes, and there's a symmetry of that she likes.

Swimsuits purchased, they mosey back to the car, window shopping but not stopping. On the way home he stops at his regular market. She follows him through the store, quietly watching him select a variety of fresh vegetables and fruit, some salmon steaks he seems very pleased with, chicken breasts, a loaf of fresh bread and three kinds of cheese that she'd never heard of, along with a few staples. He then chooses two bottles of wine that he seems torn between before finally selecting one and putting the other back.

"I wish I'd asked Charlie what dessert wine she served at dinner. It was excellent," he says as he puts the bottle back. "In fact, I wish I knew more about wine. We live in one of the greatest wine producing regions of the world, and what I don't know about wine would fill a book," he says bitterly but with a smile.

"You should talk to Giselle Chamfer, Charlie's friend. I would bet that dessert wine that you like so well was picked by Giselle at Charlie's request. According to Charlie, what Giselle knows about wines, would fill a book," she says as they're checked out

Mac smiles to himself as the young clerk checking them out struggles not to stare at Kate. "Is that the same Giselle as in the immersion?" he asks as he looks at the amount due and transfers the money to the store.

"It is."

He grunts noncommittally as he hefts the three bags. "Do you suppose she'd be willing to share what she knows?"

"I don't know. I've only met them once, but they seem nice enough. Why don't you ask Charlie what she thinks?"

He grunts again as he carries the bags to the car. "Maybe I will sometime."

Mac closes the refrigerator door after storing the last of the shopping and turns Kate. "Now that we have something for dinner, how about a swim?"

"Sure," she says with a smile. "Are you going to wear the swimsuit I bought you?"

"No," he says firmly.

"Yes, you are," she says just as firmly, but with a giggle.

"No, Kate, I'm not."

"Yes, Mac, you are," she says standing up from her propped position and stepping in close to him. "You're going to wear it because I want you to," she says, her voice becoming lower and more husky. "You want to please me, don't you?" she says softly as she molds herself to his body, tipping his head down to look him in the eyes. "Please, Mac, just this once. For me?"

"I—" he begins.

"Please Mac? No one will see you but me. Please?" she breathes.

He stands his ground a moment before his defiance crumbles. "Goddammit," he mutters, annoyed that she can so easily twist him around her little finger. "Fine. Just this once."

"Thank you, Mac," she breathes again before kissing him quickly but seductively then pulling out of his embrace. "Shall we dress?" she asks, pulling on his hand and leading him to their bedroom.

She dumps the two swimsuits out on the bed and begins removing the tags from her suit as he does the same from his. "Suits like this are not made for guys like me," he grumbles as he starts pulling it on.

She pauses in the tying of her suit to watch as he straightens. "No, you're wrong. You're exactly the type of man suits like that are made for."

She briefly thinks about telling him how hot the suit makes her and how she's looking forward to seeing him walk out of the lake wearing it. That's the stuff dreams are made of. Tearing her eyes away from him, she finishes typing her suit.

"You ready?" she asks.

"Let me get some towels," he says, disappearing into the bathroom, reappearing moments later with a couple of folded cloths.

They walk down a long flight of steps from the deck outside the cathedral to a wooden walk leading to the lake. The walk ends in another small deck on stilts set back from the water, with more steps leading down into the water. Because of the shape of the lake all the boat traffic is well away from shore, leaving them in relative privacy. Looking back, she can just make out the Bannerman's house, but can't see the Vaughan's house at all, though their deck and boat house is plainly visible at the water's edge.

He walks down the steps and slips quietly into the water and begins to swim strongly toward the center of the lake. She begins to follow him but quickly gives up any idea of keeping up with him. He doesn't look like he's swimming that fast, and maybe he isn't, but he's swimming a hell of a lot faster than she can. She pulls up, treads water for a moment, and then strikes off for the ramp the plane uses to lay her trap.

He swims out about three-hundred yards until he feels winded, then turns and starts back to shore. As he nears the shore he pulls up, looking for Kate. Treading water, he experiences a moment of panic until he finds her lying back on the Goose's launching ramp, soaking up the sun. He adjusts his course and begins swimming toward her.

She watches him swimming her way as she leans back and takes a sexy pose, taking care to make sure she can see him walk out of the water. As he stands up, walking out of the lake, the water running from his body as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, she has to suppress a groan. The stuff of dreams, indeed.

"You swim too fast, so I decided to wait for you here," she says as he walks toward her. Holy shit, he looks good in that swimsuit! She wonders if it's private enough to fuck him right here, right now.

"Sorry," he says sitting down on the concrete beside her. "I didn't think. I just wanted to see what I could do."

"It's okay, but I was afraid if I tried to keep up with you, I'd drown. Then you'd have to give me mouth to mouth. Not that I would mind the last part," she says, an impish grin tugging at her lips.

"You wouldn't, would you?" he asks mischievously, leaning down to give her a taste of what that would be like, his lips pressing firmly to hers.

She accepts the kiss hungrily, her passions soaring. She wants him, wants him so badly she can't stand it. She pushes him over onto his back, following him with her kiss, their lips never separating as they slowly roll. He moves, probably to take her into his arms, but the concrete was uncomfortable on her knees. Her desires start to run away with her, and not wanting to get scraped up before the show on Tuesday, she playfully pulls away and quickly rises to her feet. "Catch me if you can," she calls before dashing down the ramp and into the water.

He watches her splash into the water with a smile, before rising and giving chase.

They spend the next two hours laughing and splashing in the water, the bouts of horseplay broken by moments of intimacy. Mac is like a fish, swimming smoothly and easily, and while she can swim, she's not as comfortable in the water as he is, but that doesn't stop her enjoyment of being in the water with him, especially when he holds her so she can rest.

"So, how's your leg?" she asks as they climb out of the water to shower and prepare for dinner. She immediately wonders why she cares. It has been a long time, years maybe, since she cared about something like that in one of her partners. But with Mac, she's genuinely curious and cares that the leg is meeting his expectations.

"It feels great. It really does," he says as they dry. "It is just like my natural leg. I can feel the differences in the water temperature. I couldn't do that before. I can feel the mud between my toes, rather than just feel the bottom, like with my old leg. This new leg is an amazing piece of engineering."

She smiles, strangely pleased for him. "I'm glad. I really am. So, the other night, you couldn't feel me touching you on that leg?"

"I could feel it," he explains, "But it was like a pressure. I couldn't feel the warmth of your hand, or any small motions or light touches you might have been making. Nothing like that. I think I can with this new leg."

"Mmmm..." she purrs. "Something to check tonight."

"Yes, I think we should," he agrees with a smile and kiss.

Kate cuts into the steamed salmon that she prepared, under Mac's tutelage of course. With his patient assistance and encouragement, she'd prepared the entire meal of salmon and rice, Mac handing her what she needed, when she needed it, as he instructed her each step of the way, helping her with sure hands when she faltered or was confused.

She places the fish into her mouth, savoring the flavor. She can't really take credit for the taste with his handing her the spices to use and coaching her on the amount to apply, but damn if it isn't good.

"Excellent," he proclaims, smiling at her warmly. "Much better than my first attempts at cooking."

She makes a derisive, spluttering noise. "Hardly my doing," she says, her tone dry, but she's secretly she's quite proud of herself. "Anyone can cook when someone is standing over their shoulder saying, 'Now do this.'"

"Actually, Kate, that isn't entirely true. I've tried to teach others to cook and it was an unmitigated disaster." He smiles at her. "Considering what I found in the kitchen of your house, or more accurately, what I didn't find, I'm pleasantly surprised. At least you know which end of a spatula to hold."

"Other... women? Lovers?" she asks quietly.

"Yes. Does that bother you?"

"No. I was just wondering if you'd admit it."

"Why wouldn't I? You must surely know you are not my first lover."

"Nor you, mine. But some men try to be coy about it. I'm not sure why."

"If you ask a straight question, you deserve a straight answer. I don't see any reason to play games."

She looks at him for a moment. "What a refreshing attitude. So, if I ask a straight question, you'll always give me an honest answer?"

He feels a sudden rush of concern, feeling like she's setting him up, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes."

She smiles at him, wondering if he really means it. Everyone has their little secrets, things they don't want to say. "So..." she begins, drawing the word out. "Compared to all your other women, how do I rate as a lover?" she asks to tease him, not expecting to answer.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asks seriously.

She's rocked back. Is he really going to answer her honestly, and did she really want to know? "Of course. Unless I'm last on the list, in which case, please lie to me," she says with a faint smile.

"Okay. If you want honest, here's honest," he says before pausing to build the tension. "I've had several lovers that could twist a man up with pleasure beyond belief." He pauses, letting the tension build even more, enjoying watching her squirm in anticipation even as she tries to feign nonchalance. "None of them can come close to what you do to me," he says, grinning as she visibly relaxes.

"That's your honest answer? You're not just saying that because you want something later?"

"No, that's an honest answer," he confirms before pausing. "But fair is fair. How do I rate as a lover?" he asks with a grin.

She looks at him, wondering how to answer. He must surely know that he positively rocks her world. "I don't know, Mac. You've only fucked me. You haven't made love to me yet," she says, surprising herself with her words, regretting them the moment they leave her mouth.

He's surprised to hear her answer, feeling annoyance rising at the criticism, but she looks positively shocked at what she said so he holds to his temper. "Is that something you want me to do, Kate? Make love to you?"

"I'm sorry. That didn't come out the way I meant. I—"

"Just answer the question. Do you want me to make love to you?" he interrupts quietly.

"Mac," she begins again. "That isn't—"

"Kate," he interrupts a second time. "I know what you meant. And you're right. I've just been fucking you." He pauses, looking deep into her eyes. "Would you like me to make love to you? Tonight?"

She looks into his eyes for a long time. "Yes," she finally says, looking away, trying to hide her embarrassment. Two nights in a row she's said the stupidest thing. She'll be lucky if he doesn't take her home in the morning.

He points with his fork. "Your fish is getting cold," he says, clearly dropping the subject.

She wants to cry. She feels like such a fool, but she reigns in her emotions and smiles. "And it'd be a shame to waste it."

"Yes would," he says, resuming his meal.

He doesn't know what to make of her comment. He's over his annoyance, deciding that she didn't mean it as a criticism of him, but what did she mean? Did she even know herself? There's no doubt her statement held a kernel of truth though. He's been fucking her, taking her for the sheer physical pleasure of it, and giving it back in kind, with no more emotional attachment than he has for this piece of fish he's eating. But as he thinks about it, he realizes he's becoming fond of her. He likes having her around for reasons other than the use of her body. So yes, maybe it is time to move beyond fucking into something more... substantial. He looks at her. Despite her efforts to hide it, she looks miserable. Well, maybe he can change that tonight.