I hurried over. Tilting my head up, I peered at the crevice he was looking at.
“Does it look like something’s inside there?” he asked.
I blinked a few times before noticing what appeared to be a brown cloth or maybe a leather bag stuffed deep inside the crack. “Yes. How can we get it out?” Inside the cave there were no rocks we could stack for Andrew to reach it. “We need to return to the shore and find a long stick to scrape it off.”
“Or you could get on my shoulders and reach it,” Andrew said.
“What?” My attention snapped on him. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure I want your head between my thighs.”
He held my gaze. His right eyebrow arched, and his smirk deepened. “You don’t?”
My heart leaped. Goddamn it. Of course I wanted it.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I closed it. Then tried again, but I couldn’t find a suitable reply. Dropping my shoulders in defeat, I shook my head. “Let’s get this over with.”
Andrew stepped behind me and squatted, my ass no doubt in his face. God, help me not to die from embarrassment.
“You need to spread your legs,” Andrew commanded, his gravel voice vibrating in the right places and my inner parts clenched.
I did what he said, and he slid his head between my thighs, the brush of his wet hair on my skin sending a million emotions through me, and I tried—I think I succeeded, but I wouldn’t know because blood was pounding in my ears—not to gasp or moan or make any other animal noises. Without leaning forward, he stood up, and I yelped from how fast it happened—impressive—my hand flew to his face and grabbed it. The warmth of his skin soaked into my cold legs, spreading fast through me.
“Take the flashlight,” Andrew said, his fingers digging into the flesh above my knees.
Shining a light into the hole, I located the mysterious object, but before sticking my hand inside, I made sure nothing else was there, like a snake or tarantula. Did tarantulas live in Colombia? Or were they from Africa? I had no idea and I found myself cursing my lack of knowledge. Satisfied everything looked safe, I reached for the item. My hand a few inches away from touching it, I pressed my ankles tighter around his torso and lifted my butt off his shoulders, my groin rubbing the back of his head and—oh my Lord, I shouldn’t have done it. The slight friction conjured up a dull pressure in my core. A weak moan turning into a hum escaped me, and I swayed, losing some of my balance. I jerked, releasing the flashlight straight into the pool of water, and grabbed Andrew’s hair.
“Ouch,” Andrew cried out.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, my hands letting go. The flashlight quickly sunk, illuminating the bottom of a deep hole.
He turned to look at the flashlight. And my hands grabbed his hair again. “Andrew! Don’t move like that. I’ll fall.”
“What were you trying to do?”
“The damn thing is about three to four inches out of my reach. I was trying to get a bit closer to it.”
“Let’s try it again.” Without breaking contact with my skin, Andrew’s hands glided from my knees to my ankles, and he pressed them hard into his torso, letting me use my entire leg muscles for leverage. I pushed my ass off his shoulders—this time focusing on my task—and my nails grazed the thing.
“God,” I groaned. “I’m so close.”
Thank goodness William wasn’t with us; he would point out how it sounded.
Andrew’s hands tightened, and he stood on his toes, closing the needed distance, and my fingers grabbed the leather object. “I got it.” I yanked the dark brown pouch out of the stone’s crack.
When I stepped off Andrew’s shoulders, my legs tingled where our skin had pressed together. A cocktail of being in contact with his body and the excitement of finding something rushed through my bloodstream. Andrew untightened the string around the leather bag and opened it. He angled it so light from above could reveal the inside. His eyebrows pinched. Frowning, he reached inside, and when his hand came out, clumps of wet yellow paper clung to his fingers.
“What is it?” I asked.
Andrew ferreted in the bag more, then finally said, “Something that is of no use to us anymore.” He pulled the bag inside out and a decayed pale brown paper that looked like porridge landed between our feet.
“I’ll get the flashlight, and we can leave.” He handed me the bag and sat on the verge of the pool, lowering his legs into the water. Taking a deep breath, he pushed off and submerged, moving his arms to push himself to the bottom. I watched him reach for his torch, but instead of coming up for air, he stayed under as if he’d seen something.
He finally broke the surface and swept his wet hair off his eyes. “There’s an underground passageway.” He pushed to the edge and folded his forearms, breathing hard. “You stay here. I’ll swim to see what’s there.”
The recent news flashed in my head about scuba divers who were lost in underground caves and ran out of air, their lifeless bodies found days later.
