Chapter 3
Louhi
Pulling the band from the end of the short braid and putting it around my wrist, I dunk under the water again and rub at my scalp. It’s as close to clean as I can get right now. It feels nice.
When I poke my head up, I kick my feet and realize absently I can’t touch the sandy bottom anymore. I close the small gap between me and Sean and wrap my legs around his waist as though he’s a life preserver.
Even as the solar floodlight blares down on us, I wish we could stay here all day.
Resting my forearms on his shoulders, I lean forward and capture his lips.
They’re soft, supple, and seem to carry a current as if he’s an electrical substation and his mouth is a live wire.
He tastes like salty freedom and it’s heady enough to intoxicate me.
Sorry, I can’t make the plane at noon, Viktor. I’m busy getting drunk on Digs.
One of his hands tangles into the wet strands of my hair, the pads of his fingers burrowing into my skull forcefully. The other is pressed against my lower back, crushing our bodies together. His cock thickens between us, and my heels mash firmly into his muscled cheeks as I deepen the kiss.
Kissing him is addictive, like I’ve unknowingly ingested a drug simply by parting my lips. I’d stop, but I think he’s the antidote, too.
When we tear ourselves apart, my chest is heaving, my happiness splitting my face in half. When’s the last time I smiled this much?
I’m about to say something when Sean suddenly blurts, “Hold your breath, baby,” before dunking us both underwater. I don’t even have time to frown.
When we surface, I cough up water and laughter as I shove a large, powerful splash in his direction. He simply ducks back into the sparkling ocean to avoid it. I shriek playfully when something glides up the backs of my thighs, whirling around just as Sean surfaces.
“You’d make a terrible shark, Sean,” I tease. “Even if you’re built like one.”
We both know that’s not true. He swims around me in a circle, imitating the predator in question. “I don’t know, Lou. I think you’re the shark.”
“I resent that comparison.” My hand darts out to whack him lightly on the nose. “Pick something else.” There’s only one correct answer here.
He smirks. “You’re right, even if you’ve got the figurative razor-sharp teeth that could rival a Great White’s. You’re more of a platypus.”
My jaw hangs open for a moment before I dissolve into more laughter and splash him. When he grins back, it occurs to me that it’s the first time I’ve really seen him smile today. That knowledge makes my insides hum like an engine easily whirring to life after years in a garage.
“I read once that they’re venomous.”
I like this lighter side of Sean Diggory. It makes me excited to unveil all the other facets the prism of his personality will reveal. I’d be willing to bet that I’ll appreciate them all.
“Actually,” I correct, “only the male platypuses are venomous, which is completely lame, if you ask me.”
He smirks. “I’m not surprised that you knew that fact.”
I lift a bare shoulder out of the water. “I know my poisons.”
His movements are measured as he reaches for me, pulling me back toward him by the hand. “You know, I’ve never gone skinny dipping in broad daylight before.”
I slowly kick my feet beneath me to tread water despite being able to stand here, and I consider him with a narrowed expression. “Have you ever been skinny dipping, Digs?”
“You’ve got me there.” He chuckles, and it’s such a lovely sound, better than anything an orchestra could produce.
He wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder, my back flush with his torso as we face the vast horizon. Lifting a hand from the water, he points straight ahead. “Do you see that?”
His deep timber makes a shiver rush down my spine. I squint, trying to make out what he might be pointing out, but the view is clear and blue for as far as the eye can see. “See what?”
“Freedom.”
The beach is growing busier now that the sun is higher in the sky. I toss some water in Sean’s direction as we emerge from the ocean’s grasp. His answering splash is far larger than mine, and I giggle as I get doused.
Our time in the ocean felt like bathing in our own form of holy water.
I feel alive with a renewed sense of energy and joy.
The dark circles beneath Sean’s eyes are still there, but there’s a softness to his features that wasn’t present before, so I suspect he feels it, too. At least to some degree.
I dart up the sandy hill, the beige grains sticking to my wet skin, and collect my discarded clothes along the way. Once hidden by the tropical leafy giants, I re-dress.
Next to me, Sean leans over and rubs a hand over his buzzed hair, presumably to shake off the water.
“What are you? A dog?”
He straightens and meets my eye, his face impassive. “Woof.”
My laughter can probably be heard back at Exile Island. “I suppose I should be glad you didn’t start howling.”
“I have to wait for the full moon for that.” He leans over and presses a kiss on my forehead that I feel all the way down to my toes.
Yanking off the wet band that held my braid off my wrist, I hold it out for him. “Will you give me another?”
French braiding without a mirror would probably result in catastrophe. More honestly, I’d rather Sean do it. I like the feel of his deft fingers in my hair. Without waiting for his reply, I sink to the ground.
I sense him kneeling behind me, and he quickly begins separating the strands. “I have to admit, this is easier when it’s dry.”
After a moment, I ask, “Are you hungry? I could steal us some food.”
“Louhi,” he rumbles like a warning.
“Sean,” I parrot in the same manner, deepening my voice for dramatic effect. “Look, it’s easy, and we have, what? Two hours until Viktor gets here?”
“Yeah, but that’s unnecessarily risky.” He tugs on my hair, and I know it’s meant to be a chastisement.
I roll my eyes, knowing he can’t see me. “For you? Probably. For me? Easy peasy.”
He sighs but says nothing. I’ll take that as a yes.
When he’s finished, I spin to face him. He sits back on his bare heels and rubs a hand over his jaw. “Lou…”
We’re on the run. This is dangerous. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Everything he silently speaks hangs between us, but we need to eat and, honestly, I could really go for something that isn’t gray mush.
I press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back in a shake of a lamb’s tail.”
He snorts as I stuff my feet into Honey Eyes’s boots. I shove a Glock into my waistband and cover it with the ugly long-sleeved top. As I stride away, I swear I hear him mumble, “Don’t bring back slaughtered lamb.”
I grin to myself as I move toward the gathering of food trucks.