S1 E8 - His Own Company

Part 3

He is serious. She can hear it in his voice. This isn't a come on. Does he even know HOW to come on?

She smiles small, looks down at their linked hands, "Do you feel pleasure right now?"

He nods.

"Did you feel anything when I was brushing the sand off you?"

He nods and she can sense his blush despite the dusky light.

"I think that speaks volumes, don't you?" He nods again. "But, there's something you don't know."

"We've covered a lot of ground. I think we're ready to proceed to the next step. What's left?"

"About a million grains of sand fell out of your hair and down your shirt collar. I saw it."

He freezes in place. She can see the realization hit him slowly. He has sand. On his skin. Under his clothes. It is the truest indication of the sea-change in his world view that he doesn't leap to his feet and begin screaming.

She stands up, lifting him with her. He is stiff with phobic anxiety. I need to distract him, she thinks then smiles, "I think a shower is in order, don't you?" She sees the swift change of emotion on his face from panic to surprised propriety to pleased speculation.

He looks down at her and he smiles. Richard Poole, covered in sand, smiling! "Just to check, we ARE off-duty, yes?" She nods. "Oh, splendid. Time for pleasure then."

They take their chairs and bottles back to his house. She is ready to take the initiative but he surprises her mightily by leading her right into the bathroom. He faces her and begins to strip off his clothes, tipping his head to indicate she should do the same. They slowly reveal themselves.

He regards her in wonder, "You are universally lovely."

She runs a hand down his chest, "And you… wow."

"Please, Camille. Men are not lovely and thanks for the wow but you don't have to stroke my ego. I'm well aware of my so-called attributes."

She steps in carefully, slips one hand around his waist, dropping the other lower, "Oh, believe me, I'm not interested in stroking your ego... and that wow is now changed to WOW… Richard! How did you manage to keep THIS a secret?"

Laughing and trying to fend her off not at all, backing into the shower stall and drawing her with him, he admits, "Well, the suits helped. But that's NOT the reason I wore them. At least, not at first."

He manages to get the shower turned on and they stand happily under the languid trickle of water, letting the cool water glide over their flushed bodies. She washes the offending sand off him, lingering and taking her time. He simply enjoys running his hands over her, marvelling at her femininity.

When they are done, they stand quietly with arms around each other.

"Richard?"

"Yes, dearest?"

"Isn't it time for our first kiss?"

"Well now, don't you think we should get to know each other first? Oh, wait. Did that. So… yes."

The kiss starts off slow and hesitant, a testing of the waters so to speak, don't you know, just in the interest of science or some such, but a firm conclusion is reached within seconds, which is expertly confirmed by a second and third checking of the theory in question, and the reaction quickly flares up into a white hot flashpoint of supressed desires set loose to wreak havoc all over the place.

They barely make it to the bed in time.

END – S1 E8 – His Own Company