Chapter 8 Walk Behind the Water #3
My fingers obey.
I track every shift in her shoulders, every hitch in her breath, every place her hips chase my hand, adjusting pressure and rhythm to give her exactly what she needs.
She builds tight and sharp under my hand, the cold spray on her skin making the heat underneath feel obscene by comparison.
Her head tips back, shoulders grinding into the rock, water splashing harder along her side. Her eyes find mine, dark and present enough that I could fall into them instead of off this ledge, and for a second that's exactly what it feels like I'm doing.
The world narrows to my hand playing between her legs, my thigh braced under her, her gaze locked on mine. The waterfall turns into a background, a white border around something that is otherwise all motion and color.
When she comes, it's like watching someone walk through the fall itself.
Her fingers clamp down on my wrist, nails biting. Her hips buck against my palm, mouth falling open on a cry the water steals before it can travel an inch. I feel every wave of it under my hand, hot and nearly violent.
I hold her through it, my body the only thing standing between her and the drop, between her and the rest of the world. I don't stop until the aftershocks have run all the way out of her legs.
"Okay?" I press my forehead to hers, noses bumping. It's a question, an apology, and a claim, all in one word.
Her laugh comes out shaky, half-unhinged. "I am never okay when it comes to you."
I bring her hand down, guide it to the front of my shorts. She finds me already hard, the contact alone enough to make my hips jump.
"Your turn," I tell her, voice gone rough.
There's a narrow path behind us, slippery rock, a long drop.
There are coworkers somewhere ahead, taking careful pictures, saying things about natural wonders.
There are risk reports, a missing guide, a rival company whose name tastes like iron in my mouth, and a ridgeline a meter off our shoulder that I clocked before I touched her.
And there's this woman, looking up at me like the waterfall is the backdrop and I'm the thing she actually came here to see.
She nudges my shorts down, and her palm closes over my cock, thumb dragging along the length, and every careful thought I have left scatters. Then she drops to her knees in front of me, still holding onto the rope.
I bite back a roar of pleasure as her lips close around me. "Nora..." I groan.
Her mouth is like fire, hot and wet and igniting every nerve ending. She doesn't start gently, reminding me of the way I feasted on her last night. She takes me so deep into her mouth, I feel the back of her throat spasm around the head of my cock, and wonder if my knees are going to buckle.
She flutters her tongue along the length, swirling it around the tip as she pulls back, then she's pumping me with her mouth. I curl a fist in her hair, and she lets me thrust against her.
It doesn't take me long, and I shatter, spilling waves of hot come into her mouth.
She swallows it down greedily, her tongue darting and drawing out the waves of ecstasy as my whole body seems to fracture.
Whatever curses leave me get lost in the thunder along with everything else.
Satisfaction rolls through me like heat finally finding somewhere to go.
She rises, and we stand there, pinned together behind the fall, while the world keeps pounding past on the other side of it.
I kiss her again, slower this time, tasting myself on her tongue and wishing we were somewhere I could properly repay the favor.
"We need to move," I say eventually, mouth still against hers. "In case someone notices we're missing and starts a search and rescue inside a waterfall."
"Can you imagine the HR report?" Humor finds its way back into her voice. "Location of the incident: behind Salto Hacha. Participants: two senior executives. Cause:—"
I bark a laugh, and then we peel apart and right our clothes. I check her footing, my hand steady at her waist, and we fall back into single file, grip the line, and start moving again.
By the time the waterfall thins and the light brightens ahead, by the time voices stop being noise and start being words again, we look like everyone else: soaked, exhilarated, cheeks flushed from the assault of water.
Riley turns as we emerge, eyes wide and bright. "Right?" she shouts, even though we could talk at a normal volume now. "It's insane. I swear, every time, it's like—"
"Religious experience," Nora supplies, smoothing her hair back.
Riley grins, triumphant. "Told you."
No one asks why we arrive a few minutes later than everyone else.
My shoulder brushes Nora's as we step back onto the open rock, the waterfall to our right now, a sheet of white in full sun, looking exactly as it did from the boat. It's the path behind it that's been completely rewritten.
***
Nora
The kayaks are pulled up on the lodge's near beach by the time our boat docks, both of them empty, paddles stowed.
I spot Ryan and Erica before Santi does, standing well apart from the dock, away from where the rest of the group is filing off the boat, trading water bottles and comparing soaked sneakers, Ryan's phone already in his hand, Erica's arms crossed tight over her chest in a way that has nothing to do with being cold.
Ryan looks up while we're still too far away to call out, and whatever's on his face stops me mid-stride. "We got a window," he says, without preamble, the moment we're in earshot. "Called the authority back, the way we planned. Told them what I confirmed from the ridge."
"And?" Santi's voice has gone flat, careful, the same register he used on the phone last night.
"They're moving. Right now—within the hour." Ryan's gaze flicks toward Erica, as he needs her there to finish it.
The hour lands like cold water down my spine.
"They've got space for two more," Erica says, her voice is doing a poor job of staying level. "The team lead offered it when Ryan gave them the refined coordinates. Said if anyone in our group actually knows the terrain near the camp, having an extra set of eyes would help them move faster."
"I'm going," Ryan says, like it was never a question. Then, not waiting for anyone's reaction: "Erica wanted to."
"I still want to," Erica says, sharp, the words aimed more at Ryan than at the rest of us.
"Your knee," Ryan says, equally sharp back, and the argument is clearly not a new one, just one that's been put on pause for our benefit. "Four hours of jungle terrain in boots that aren't broken in, on a knee that's still—"
"It's a sprain, Ryan, not a—"
"It could become a real problem four miles from the nearest road, and then I'm not looking for Mateo, I'm carrying you out." His voice doesn't rise, but something underneath it does. "I'm not risking that. Not today."
Erica's jaw works. She doesn't have an answer for that one, and from the way her eyes go bright and furious, she knows it.
"I'll go," Santi says.
Everyone turns.
"You don't know the terrain better than Ryan does," I say, unable to stop myself, while still deciding whether I want him to volunteer for this or never let him near it at all.
"I don't need to know it better. I need to be useful, and I have field-risk certification from two different insurers that nobody else in this group has, including a wilderness first aid module I genuinely thought I'd never use outside of an audit.
" He says it simply, like it's a line item, not an argument.
"Ryan's the one who can read that camp and that terrain.
I'm the one who can keep things from becoming a second incident report if something goes wrong out there. "
"Santi—"
"They have an hour, Nora." His eyes find mine, steady in a way that asks for something I don't entirely want to give him. "I can be ready in five minutes."
I look at Ryan. Ryan looks back at me, and whatever he sees on my face, he doesn't argue against it.
Erica's mouth opens, then closes. She nods once, short, and turns to relay it, already pulling out her own phone.
I grab Santi's wrist before he can move. "If you're doing this—"
"I know." He covers my hand with his, just for a second, long enough that no one else would notice. "I'll be careful. I promise you that much."
It isn't enough of a promise. We both know it isn't. But it's the one he can actually keep, and right now, with the clock already running, it's the only one either of us has time for.