12
“Fun tussle,” Maggie managed on a half laugh.
Palo managed to grunt an amused agreement that vibrated down her length as she still lay upon his chest.
They lay on one of the helo’s emergency blankets spread close beside the stream. They had splashed in wearing their clothes, because they needed washing as badly as their bodies. The clothes had soon been tossed on the bank, but they’d swum back and forth in the fifty-foot pool of Brown’s Hole for a long time.
Rather than cooling her off, the delay as they’d floated and talked had given the banked fires time to rekindle and burn anew. Any doubts she had were scorched away when he touched her for the first time as the last ray of sunlight snaked up their canyon to light the pool. His rough hand, softened by the water, had brushed along
