I tap my chin. “There’s a good seaweed patch over there, too, for fuel. We could probably get a system worked out. And we’ll have the clams we harvested once the shelter fire is going.”
Hank pushes himself to his feet. “Right. Nowhere to go but forward.”
I stand with a sideways stumble, which I try to make cute by posing as I catch myself with a tree. “Back to the beach?”
We trudge over the rocks. When we get to the sandy area, Hank trips, and I catch his elbow. It’s hot under the direct sun again, and the birds are busy down the shore.
We stay close for just a moment before we each step back.
I definitely still want to kiss him. No doubt about that.
“How’s your hand?” I ask instead.
He shakes it. “There’s a slight lingering sting, but fine.” He turns his eyes over the sandy shore. “We should clean the beach off first.”
“I’ll grab us some seaweed before I help clear.”
He nods. “Good idea.”
I strip off my clothes, leaving them on dry land, and go straight into the ocean. The cold water almost sucks the air out of my lungs, but I adjust quickly, and it helps take the edge off this new horny distraction. As I dive and gather handfuls of green sea lettuce, I watch Hank tromping around and moving debris off the beach.
The thought of him getting injured by the falling tree fills me with fear, and I have to shake it off. I don’t know how I’m going to repay him for saving my life.
Again.
Fuck, it was hot when he saved me from the tree, though. He’s so purposeful and strong and determined. The man deserves a long blowjob.
After dipping the seaweed in the creek, I come back with full arms. Hank’s eyes meet mine before they glance down my naked body, but he quickly corrects his gaze.
I hand off the seaweed. “Beach looks good.”
Hank slurps hungrily. “It’s getting there.”
I chew my seaweed, challenging myself to savor the flavor while it lasts. When I shiver, Hank puts his hand on my arm.
We look each other in the eye, standing close and eating with the waves at our feet.
“It is important,” Hank says carefully, “that we try to feel good. Keep our spirits up. You’re right about that.”
“Very important,” I agree with a flirty smile. “Almost as important as getting all of our tasks done first.”
“First?”
“Before we even consider getting up to trouble,” I tease.
A slight flush goes over Hank’s features, and it thrills me.
We get back to work and easily find a rhythm, occasionally stealing glances of each other. Hank marks out the size of the X’s, and we work together to gather the easiest supplies,arranging the few nearby branches to get us started. When I slip away to flip the wood and gather more burning material, he uses the time to forage mushrooms and berries, which we eat together by our sticks.
Hot and sweaty, I strip again and walk into the sea. Hank only hesitates for a moment before following me. We float and swim in the waves together, sinking under the water and emerging again.
Hank swims closer to me, and I swim past, splashing him on the way. Playful energy passes between us, wordless but energizing.
We walk out of the water side by side. The first X is started, assembled halfway. “How are you holding up?” he asks.
I look up to the sky. “Maybe we could get an X done before dark.”
Hank stands a little straighter, encouraged. “I think we could,” he agrees.
