“Not for your armpits!” I slapped him away again. He tried to come closer, to getmeto sniffhim.
In actuality, he really didn’t smell all that unappetizing. He was musky, all man with a healthy dose of virility running through his veins. But I was almost afraid that he was going to want me to pick through his hair for bugs next. He was taking this caveman—or would it bebureman?—thing to the next effing level.
However,I was staring to understand how the human race made it without the help of products for so long—once the smell grew on you, it was erotic.Au naturalewas just that. Natural. Perhaps not in fuming groups, but between us… Still, I started to feel crusted in salt, and I salivated at the chance to scrub my skin clean. His too.
At least he didn’t deny me the privilege of a toothbrush and toothpaste. There was no way he was going that far. But once I had started to brush, he had come at me again because of the motion my breasts made while scrubbing.
I didn’t jiggle like I used to, but I had some.
He settled down, sighing, resuming his position behind me. Entangling our fingers again, he brought our connected hands to my stomach. He squeezed me closer, putting his mouth close to my ear. “I live again,” he said softly, tickling the skin behind lobe. “The smell of dying flowers clung to you. It’s gone now, baby. You smell of life.”
“I smell of you,” I said, squeezing back. “Still, if we don’t bathe soon, the bugs are going to start drifting in for a different reason.”
He kissed my shoulder as he moved our hands lower, between my legs, his fingers doing all of the work. I closed my eyes, pushing my bottom against him. He made a satisfied noise in his throat, pushing back, entering me in a slow, slippery stroke.
“Tell me,” he said. “How long you’ll be mine.”
“Al di là per sempre,” came my breathless reply.Beyond forever.“I’ll never leave your side.Dove vai tu vado anche io.”Where you go, I go too.
“All right,” he said, his breath coming out in soft pants. “Tomorrow we bathe. Not here—someplace special.”
Chapter Twenty
Scarlett
The island woke us with a deep, fresh breath of life.
Brando and I listened as the conch was blown, gazing at each other, alternatively laughing and kissing. Though we had finally decided to venture out, we knew we had the night to look forward to again.
Two parakeets had sat perched on the carved wooden tree rising from the floor, welcoming us in true island style.
For the first time since we arrived, breakfast had been delivered. I ate until I swelled and had no more room to fill. Then we stripped the bed, so that when we returned, we would have fresh sheets.
Brando insisted that we roam naked, since this area of the island was ours, but I wasn't as ambitious as he was. When you looked like you belonged on the cover of a men’s magazine, you could afford to be, I thought. Instead, I wore a thin white gauze sarong and covered my breasts with my wild hair.
Standing outside, waiting for Brando to grab our towels, I truly felt the layers acquired over the last couple of days.No, perhaps months.The sun beat down on my skin, hot and relentless, my eyes narrowed against its glare, like a newborn animal at first light. The white sand underfoot was warm. I wiggled my toes against it in ecstasy, while the sea rushed in, as cool as its crystal blue and green colors. The sea breeze was a balm to the heat.
“Oh!” I said quietly to myself, reaching in my bag to retrieve my camera.
Wild horses galloped along the beach, whinnying and playing along the surf. Their chestnut manes were as free as their spirits, sweeping up with the gentle gusts of wind like flames.
I watched in awe as they passed, camera glued to my face. After they trotted off toward the jungle, I shook my head, placing the camera back in my bag. The island truly was mystical.
Brando stepped out of ourbureand took my hand, three towels that could wrap six bodies over one shoulder. He had just missed the horses, but I was sure they would be back. Ray-Bans hid his eyes, and his knife was strapped around his ankle. Our bag and the map were with me.
He pulled me along. “I kept you locked up too long, Ballerina Girl.”
“No regrets,mio angelo.” I slapped at a small gnat hovering around my head, probably attracted to my scent. "But I do feel like Pig-Pen fromPeanuts. Oh!” I pulled free of his hand, bending down. “Look! It's a fiddler crab! A female.”
He came closer, but not too close to the sand. I had warned him about crawling things that bite. Still, his dangling appendages came precariously close, taking more of a chance than I would have.
“How can you tell?”
I laughed. He was looking for anatomical proof.
“See?” I picked her up from behind. She tried to scuttle away frantically. Alien eyes that rounded out above her body darted nervously. “She doesn’t have claws. Male fiddler crabs have one asymmetric claw. It’s bigger than the other one.”
“Why only one?” he asked, examining the little sea creature with interest.
