Total Committment Who: Helena and Cross When: late afternoon Where: the lean-tos to start What: working, and then bathing Rating: NSFW (sexual content)
The cool, cloudy day was perfect for working on the lean-tos. Cross, who was filthy from his stint at gravedigging and then helping to fill the grave back in, had scraped off just enough of the dirt that had coated his arms and hands so that he wouldn't get it on everything he touched. He was only going to do more work that would get him sweaty and dirty, so he didn't see the need to clean up yet. That could come later, once he'd raised blisters on his hands and worked his muscles to quivering exhaustion. He couldn't have articulated why, but it felt important to be too tired to think by the end of the day.
Cross was working on a wall for one side of their lean-to, using some of the thin branches he'd brought back the previous day. To start with, he planned to tie them together at the top and bottom with some of the tough cord the blind kid, Ryan, had been braiding together in between his pottery attempts. Once he had a rough semblance of a wall, he would figure out how to weatherproof it a bit; climber resin would most likely be the best option. Even mud would probably serve, he thought. He worked fast, ignoring everything around him as he knotted cord expertly. Some of the branches were too short, some too tall, but nonetheless he thought they would serve their purpose.
Helena had flitted around the camp, trying to stay out of Cross's way since his face had clearly said he didn't want to put up with any fussing or pleasantries that day, as well as attempting to be useful. A couple of the other guys who were working on lean-tos had noted Cross's method for building the walls and were busy at it. He'd mentioned the idea of filling the chinks in the wall with a paste of some kind and Helena had disappeared with one of Ryan's largest clay bowls. She'd scavenged some of the clay-like mud and mixed it with a bit of water to soften it and added some dried straw and sand. The finished product wasn't exactly like the stuff the ancient Egyptians had made bricks out of but she thought it might do well enough. Once it dried (if it dried) they could treat both sides with climber resin. Returning to the build site, she set the heavy bowl down out of the way and armed some sweat off of her brow. "It looks good," she told him, a little breathless.
Cross had been zoned out, the repetitive tying of knots like white noise in his mind, blocking out all other thought... which was what he'd hoped for today. He had the top of the panel completely tied together and he'd started working on the bottom section by the time Helena approached. It took him a few seconds to register her words, but when he did, he nodded to her, his fingers still deftly tying. "Hope it holds," he said. He figured more cord could be used to secure the wall to the lean-to, unless the guy who'd found the tool belt and nails could be persuaded to part with a few. "What's that?" He nodded toward the bowl she'd been carrying.
Glancing at the bowl, she smiled. "It's mud plaster, I hope. Clay, sand and a bit of straw. You said that something like that might work to fill in the cracks in your walls." She gestured to the wall he was working on as she sat down and retrieved the water bottle set out of the way but close by. She glanced up at the gray sky as she sipped some of the water gratefully, her own hands crusted just about to the elbows with her mixture. As her eyes ticked back to him she thought they both could use a bath later before bed. "It'll be nice to have at least some walls between us and the rain, if it comes tonight."
Cross had to smile, even if it was faint, when he saw that her arms were about as grimy as his. "Thanks for mixin' that up," he said. It would be one less thing he'd have to do, and it might enable him to finish two walls instead of just one. After looking at her thoughtfully for a few seconds, he turned his gaze back to the knots he was tying. "Wish we had more of 'em done," he mused. "Looks like a couple more might be finished today." Once he was completely done with theirs, he would help build more. Cross would not feel content until everyone had at least some rudimentary shelter.
Helena nodded. There were no less than five lean-tos now in a state of being built throughout the camp. If they could get roofs on the two others that had been started today, she felt that everyone could huddle out of the direct rain. They were all going to get wet, regardless. The lean-tos had no floor and the entire island sloped back toward the water so rain run-off was bound to flood them. Eventually, she would cobble the floor of their lean-to and build them some sort of bedframe Yes she would. Just as soon as she and Ryan could discover a way to make those lovely furnaces they talked about so that each of the lean-tos could have an internal heat source. "It was no trouble. I'd be happy to fill in the cracks in the wall if you wanted to move on to the other one." Then they would have privacy at the head of their bed and he could work on privacy at the foot of it as well.
"Alright," Cross told her, tying off the last of the knots at the bottom and getting up to settle the rectangular wall in front of Helena so she could get to what he considered the outside of it. "Here ya go." Once he'd set it down, he stretched and sighed, tired but yet pleased with the feeling of exhaustion in his limbs. It was a productive feeling, one that he was becoming accustomed to here. He moved around to the brush in back of the lean-tos to retrieve another armload of the skinny branches; another trip for more was going to have to be made soon. They were rapidly dwindling away since others were using them for walls. He settled down not far from Helena with a fresh bunch of cord to begin tying them together.
Helena studied the wall he'd made, a small frown on her face. "I think.." Eying the part of the lean-to that the wall was supposed to fill, she stood and dragged it over. "It'll be easier to fill the areas that need to be filled if it's already in place." Once the wall dried, much flexing of the structure would cause cracks or chunks to fall away. That was probably going to happen anyway, but at least they could prevent a little bit. She took up her little shovel and dug a trench along where the bottom of the wall would sit. She then settled the wall into the shallow trench and packed the loose dirt around it to hold it a bit more stable. She used more of Cross's cord to lash the wall to the top slanted post of the lean-to. Once it was up, she wiped a bit of sweat off her brow, smearing a streak of the paste across her forehead and sighed. "Ok, that should be right? At least until we can get a couple of nails knocked into it?"
Cross looked over to see what she'd done. "Yeah, nails or more cord to lash it in place." He didn't know how well the structures would hold if there was a violent storm, but they had to start somewhere. Having a roof of sorts over their heads seemed like a great start to him. "Looks good." He noticed that she'd placed the wall against the side of the lean-to that was closest to the fire, which meant that they'd have quite a bit more privacy even without the second wall in place. That was exactly where he would have put it.
Helena gave him a quick smile and a wink before collecting her bowl of muck and settling down to start smearing the thick stuff into the cracks. "The fire will help it dry faster," she asserted with confidence. Maybe it meant that the warmth of the fire would reach them inside quite so well but there were two of them and friction made warmth anyways. Helena knew that she didn't mind rubbing up against the big blonde man and he'd proven last night that he didn't mind it at all himself. Just thinking about the kiss made her stomach turn over in the nicest way. She ended up day dreaming through her work.
The wink she gave him quite unnerved Cross, and his cheeks flushed very slightly. He felt foolish, since he was well past the age of behaving like a teenage boy, but there was no help for it, he supposed. He turned his intent attention to the knots he was tying, trying all the while to keep the knotty branches where he wanted them as he lashed them together. They proved difficult, which was a good distraction for him from the somber feel of this day and his own inclination to daydream about both the previous night and future nights. It took him longer than it should have to get the second wall completely tied top and bottom, and he left it where it sat once he'd finished to go and check Helena's progress, walking over to where she was working on the first wall.
It was messy work and she showed the evidence of it all over her clothes and skin. There was even mud in her hair. For all the mess, though, the wall was nearly finished. In places it was hard to tell that it was even sticks lashed together. It was almost a smoothly plastered wall. She knew it would take days to dry fully but she was sure there was enough room inside for them to avoid touching it. "What do you think?" she asked as she tilted her dirty face up to his. "I think I'll be done soon." She looked down at herself. "Then I'm going to go find a place to have a bath, I think." She missed her deep and refreshing pool back in the forest but the lake water wasn't so bad. In areas where the seaweed didn't grow it was quite clear.
Cross examined what she'd done to the wall and nodded, then turned his gaze back to her, glancing down at her uptilted face. "I think you look like you've been makin' mud pies," he drawled, the faintest of smiles on his lips. He lifted his fingers to rub at her cheek, showing her the evidence as he drew them away. Of course, he didn't look any better; his bare torso was liberally smeared with dirt, as were his arms and hands. "Wall looks good though. I think I'll tie the other one in place and we can work on puttin' mud on it another day." He knew that if a wind blew in off the lake, the wall she'd covered would take the brunt of the impact.
Helena nodded and gestured to the triangular hole where their heads typically rested. "Maybe on that side, there?" she asked. That meant they were protected from the side view, and the head on view. They could easily be completely private by hanging some sort of blanket or her robe over the triangular hole at the foot of their bed.
Looking down at her hands and arms, she sighed. "I think I'm going to try to find a spot to wash up." Her clothes were a mess again as well. Maybe she'd wash those too. As she stood, she canted her head and looked at his bare chest. "You could use one too," there was something in her voice that was definitely an invitation. "I could help you tie up the next wall, and then..." A bath with Cross was kind of a thrilling idea. Right out in the open, where they might get seen. She was shy when it came to others seeing them but the idea of being that....free...with Cross didn't make her wilt. Not at all. Maybe she was getting bolder in her older age.
"That works," he said to her suggestion of where to put the second wall. He was about to turn and walk over to retrieve it when she told him that he could use a bath, as well. It was something he could not have imagined Helena saying... before last night, that was. "Yeah, I could," he replied. He'd become sensitive to nuance where she was concerned, and he definitely didn't miss her tone of voice. His eyes held hers, and he smiled a little, then tilted his head in the direction of the lean-to. "Grab some cord, and I'll get the wall." Then he moved away to pick up the bundle of branches he'd lashed together, shifting them easily over to place against the structure and settle them into the correct spot.
Helena almost groaned in frustration. She was pretty sure he'd just agreed to come with her but she couldn't be sure he hadn't just agreed with her thought on the matter. That he needed a bath, because he was dirty. She told herself not to sling a handful of her clay mud at his back and instead, ducked in to the lean-to, careful to keep her messy hands away from their bedding, and grabbed the extra rope. For many quiet minutes they worked side by side, ensuring that the wall was firmly attached.
To Cross, his words had been agreement; he didn't realize that he'd been unclear. As they worked to secure the wall, he was wondering if he should take his shirt along to wash or just leave it. Washing wouldn't help it much, at any rate. "I think that's good," he said, walking around to the front of the lean-to so he could check it out more thoroughly. The only thing that would make it more secure would be having the second wall plastered and maybe putting a few nails into the top of it. He peered in at Helena as she stood in the lean-to and asked, "Got any soap pods? I have two or three in my pocket." He slapped one side of his khaki pants with a large hand.
She had been looking for just that when he asked and smiled over her shoulder. "I have a couple. Should I bring them?" His question swept away all of that silent fretting she'd endured while they worked and now she felt silly. Of course he'd agreed to go with her. When she straightened up, she emerged with her bath robe. She had every intention of not putting on her wet pajamas again. The water in the lake looked chopped and little families of grazers were beginning to trickle in across the lake, their necks held stiff, heads tilted well above the waves as they swam.
"Might as well," Cross said, "if we're washin' clothes, too." He didn't have a stitch to put on if he washed his pants, so he thought he might settle for washing his shirt, underpants and socks and just brush off the pants as best he could. They were military-issue and repelled dirt fairly well, he'd noticed. He snagged the work- and weatherbeaten shirt from the branch where he'd draped it and he was good to go. "Where you want to head to?" he asked, as matter-of-fact as if they were going off to dig clams instead of to see one another naked for the first time.
Turning her gaze left and then right, she pointed east up the beach. "Let's try that way." It was away from the spring and the tannery. Maybe they would luck out with some privacy. Tucking her soap pods into the pocket of the robe, she joined him in walking that way. She'd explored a little bit in this direction and there were a couple of small inlets, some overgrown with reeds that might provide the seclusion they wanted. The quiet though, as they crossed a dune on the beach, got to her a little bit and she cast him a shy but curious smile. "Have you ever gone skinny dipping with anyone before?"
Cross didn't mind the quiet as they walked, nor did he mind the brooding, ominous sky. It meant a lot less chance of sunburn, and he was already crispy around the edges. Even if Helena had not been along to up the ante, the thought of a cool bath was something he greatly anticipated. The shirt swung from one hand as he walked, and he turned his head to look at Helena as she asked if he'd skinny dipped before. "Can't say that I have," he told her. "This'll be a first." He looked amused in a quiet, mellow way as he asked her, "Have you?"
She smiled, even laughed softly. "Yes," she answered. "Once while in college. Our little town had a lake." It had been a popular spot for the local lovebirds and keggers alike. Edward had brought her there on several dates before their engagement. He'd strutted for weeks when he'd finally convinced her to step out of her white cotton panties and get in the water with him. She thought about how to tell Cross more about it without it being...well, gratuitous. "It's not something I do with just anyone," she said with a smile, "since I ended up marrying that guy. I trusted him. I trust you too," she said.
Cross wouldn't have accused her of being loose even if she'd skinny dipped with several people. His sense of morality was what many people would consider skewed; he'd been raised by a hyper-religious prostitute, after all. At first, he wasn't sure what he should say when she told him she trusted him, though it was nice to know. If asked, he would have had to say that he trusted her, too. Very few people got even the slightest bit beneath his surface in the way she had. After a few seconds of deliberation, he said, "I'm glad," and reached for her free hand, his larger fingers swallowing it whole.
She curled her fingers around his baseball mitt of a hand and walked maybe a little closer as they rounded a cape on the island. Here was a reedy inlet that seemed free of grazers and didn't even seem to have many busy fish in the shallows. "Here? Or too close?" They'd only been walking for a few minutes, after all. The afternoon was giving way to a very dim evening and Helena had a sense that people would be sticking near the fire where the fish was frying and warm. However, one never knew.
"This should be fine," Cross said after he'd stopped walking and listened to the utter silence all around them. The only sound was the wind rustling leaves and tree branches and the occasional low of a grazer from yards away. There didn't seem to be any other people anywhere around, and despite his preference for privacy, he didn't want to get too far from camp. He took his role as one of the larger and more able-bodied men-- as a protector-- very seriously. He let go of Helena's hand and unfastened the pocket in which he'd stowed his soap pods, then began toeing his heavy shoes off on the thick purple grass at the very edge of where the hard-packed, stony sand that led into the inlet began.
Helena leaned down and unlaced her sandals, letting the floppy bows made out of her pillow case go slack and slipped her feet out. She left the sandals next to his boots. While Cross burned, Helena's skin tanned and even though it wasn't bright out, the stripes on her lower legs were obvious, from her sandal straps. She hesitated only a second before pulling her t-shirt up and off as well. It wasn't the worst one ever seen but Helena Chu had a farmer's tan. Her arms, neck and face were golden brown but her back, chest and stomach were a far creamier shade. Then, of course, she flushed pink as she tried to be casual about her bare skin. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she hooked her thumbs into the elastic band of her boxer shorts and wiggled them down over her trim hips. Again, she had the sharply divided tan of someone who spent most of her time in the sun. It would probably take a much closer inspection to reveal the ceasarian scar just above her pubic bone, along with the one or two silvery faded stretch marks on her stomach.
It would have been foolish for Cross to pretend he wasn't looking at her, but he wasn't skeevy about it. Rather, his eyes wandered over her skin like the softest touch as he shucked off his pants and folded them up on the grass and then stripped off his briefs and socks. He was a quiet man, and often reserved, but he wasn't shy in the strictest sense of the word, and that also pertained to his exposure of his body. He didn't move quickly, didn't scuttle into the water, didn't try to hide. Instead he retrieved his soap pods and took them and the items of clothing he was planning to wash with him into the water, walking into its depths with relative slowness, letting the water cover first his calves, then his knees, then his thighs and then his hips before stopping to savor the cool, almost silken slickness of the water.
Helena was practically holding her breath. She knew Cross was a large man and she found it hard to believe that, naked, he seemed even bigger somehow. Like maybe before she'd told herself it was a trick of the way his clothes folded over him but now, clothing shed, that was revealed to be untrue. His farmer's tan was even more pronounced and the white of his backside had her biting down on her lip as she gathered her own soap and clothes to join him. She'd long since stopped worrying about shaving her legs or underarms. Bikini waxing and all of that. She'd never been overly hairy anyway and au naturel didn't seem to put Cross off at all.
The wind across the water lifted little waves and she could feel the tug of the current, urging her small body to follow it. Where the water came up to his hips it lapped into her navel and goosebumps raced over her skin. Her dark brown nipples pulled tight and stood upright but she didn't find the water uncomfortable.
Cross had set to work scrubbing his clothes almost immediately, wanting that part of it over with so he could wash himself. He wasn't sure how much good the soap pods were going to do for the appearance of the garments, but at least they'd be as clean as he could make them. "Nice," he said of the cool water once Helena had joined him. Despite the fact that the sky was cloudy, it wasn't terribly cold out, and even if he'd found it so, getting the dirt and sweat of the day's exertions off of him would have been worth it. "Not too cold, are you?" His eyes kept wandering to her even in the midst of his efficient clothes washing, because she was just as lovely as he'd thought she'd be, a dark-haired mermaid with her serious eyes and the smudges of dirt on her skin.
"No, it's nice," she said with a smile in his direction as she draped her t-shirt over one of her shoulders so she could split open a soap pod and take care of her shorts. Her hair was getting long enough that the taller of the waves that rolled in just licked the ends of her ebony strands. To her credit, she didn't even try to cover her breasts as she worked, content to stand and scrub by his side in the water. Much like him, she made quick work of her washing, saving a pod for her own body. They'd have to get out again to wring the garments out and hang them on the nearby bushes. She didn't even hesitate when the time came. She trailed her wet and slightly soapy fingertips down the muscled groove of his spine as she turned to head for shore. "Mine are as good as they're going to get. I'm going to go hang them up."
Cross had been busy wringing out his t-shirt in preparation for throwing it over one broad shoulder to walk to shore, and when Helena's fingers slid along his spine, he hadn't been expecting it and it sent a shiver all through him. He finished with the tattered garment and quickly wrung out the socks and underwear, then followed her to shore to hang his up, as well. He wasn't expecting them to dry anytime soon without sun, but they'd come a lot closer to it if they spread them out. "This shirt's about had it," he remarked as he carefully stretched it over the top of a shrub not far from where she'd put hers. He reached for his last soap pod that he'd left lying on his folded pants, split it open and stood waiting for her to accompany him back into the water, seemingly oblivious to his state of undress as his eyes scanned the sky to try and determine if rain was imminent.
The wind was picking up a little and it made her shiver, standing on the beach. She really needed to get her body and hair clean before she could sleep, though. She carefully spread out her two garments and eyed his poor t-shirt before coming to stand next to him. She brushed her hair back out of her face as the wind whipped it around and she looked upward. "I think you're right. Don't worry. You're on my list of people to knit a sweater for." Palming her own last soap pod, she caught his free hand with the other and nodded back out to the water. Bathing her actual skin was the next thing on her mind. "C'mon though. Let's get the muck off our skin before the rain arrives." She couldn't tell if the sun was going down and that was why it was getting dimmer or if it was imminent rainstorms. Rainstorms would likely undo a lot of the work she'd done on the wall of their lean-to but since the clay flat was found nearby, she wasn't too worried about having to redo it.
"It'd take a while to knit a sweater for me," he pointed out, amusement in his tone. If anyone could do it, she could, though, he imagined. He walked into the water at her urging, getting waist-deep before he stopped and quickly dunked himself under to wet his hair. The soap pods provided a surprising amount of lather, and he occupied himself sudsing his hair and then beginning to scrub his face, neck and torso. He was a man who didn't mind working hard and getting dirty at all, but he liked to be able to clean up afterward. He wasn't pleased with how long his hair was becoming, and he mused idly as he watched Helena lathering hers, "Wonder if I could use that straight razor on my hair?"
Helena's hair was getting long as well and the ends weren't entirely even any more. She'd debated asking him if she could borrow his razor to give herself a trim but in the end had opted against it. She could let her hair get a bit longer. No harm. Besides that, it sort of helped to keep her warm and on hot days she could put it up. "I could cut it for you," she told him. "I mean, I think I could do it. The razor's still sharp and I'd be at a better vantage than you. Especially since we have no mirrors." She bent at the knees, dunking her head back to rinse the suds out of her long locks.
"I'd let you try," Cross told her. "I like it short." Ordinarily he kept his hair at an almost military trim, but anything she could accomplish would be preferable to its current state of shagginess. He ducked his entire self beneath the water except for the hand that was holding the remains of his soap and used his other hand to scrub through his hair and get the soap out, calmly holding his breath all the while. Once he surfaced, exhaling and pushing his hair out of his eyes, he began to wash his lower body beneath the water. It was an amazing feeling to be clean, to be in the cool water after the day he'd put in. A bonus was that the fish didn't seem to care for the soap pod residue; he hadn't seen one since they'd been back in the water.
Helena, as well, was busy trying to get that all over clean feeling and she made quick work of it. When Cross surfaced again, she had used up all of her soap and the suds were drifting around her in a bit of a milk pool. "Maybe we can try that tomorrow," she suggested. She certainly liked him better without his beard. She thought he looked much less intimidating without it. He had a bit of stubble now, though. Helena had realized he wouldn't shave every day. They did try to conserve their soap pods and also the fine edge on his straight razor.
"Tomorrow's good," Cross said, knowing as well as she did that there was no guarantee of what might happen tomorrow. If they could, she'd try cutting his hair. That was enough of a plan to satisfy him. He had himself as clean as he could get without hot water by this point, and he raked his hair back with both hands, then reached over to curl an inky, long strand of hers around one finger. "I like yours long," he offered; admittedly, like any man, he'd spared a few moments thinking about how much he'd like that hair spilling around him as she rode atop him. He'd never tell her not to cut it, but privately he hoped she wouldn't.
Her face fell into a blushy, surprised but pleased expression at the compliment. Her hair was thick and had always grown well. It was easily more than an inch longer than it had been when she'd arrived. "I thought about cutting it yesterday when it was so muggy." She lifted her hands to make a chopping motion at roughly her jaw line, demonstrating how short she'd have snipped it. "But I don't have the heart to do it," She'd used his little touch, a thick lock of her hair curled around one of his blunt fingers, to shift a little closer to him in the water. He was hard not to admire, physically. Even on a dubious diet for most of the month, Cross was in such fine physical form. All of his clearly defined muscles tempted her fingers.
Cross' eyebrows lifted a little when she showed him how short she'd been thinking of cutting her hair. She'd still be attractive if she did, but it'd be a shame, he thought. His expression as he gazed down at her was serious and yet relaxed at the same time; he'd come to love the moments when the entire population of camp wasn't around them and he could be himself. As much of himself as he'd shown to anyone thus far, that was. He released her hair when she edged closer, buoyed by the water, and began to trace a path down her slender neck, then over the top of her shoulder, his touch soft and yet deliberate.
Oh, she liked that. Helena lifted a hand to rest on his hip as she tilted her face up to meet his eye. The small waves lapped at them, pushing her closer to him. It didn't feel unnatural in the least to be with him like this. She was glad she didn't feel the need to hide or cover herself. Over the past year, she'd told all of her girlfriends she just wasn't ready to be set up with their brothers and cousins and accountants. Blind dates had their place but she just wasn't ready. It brought a smile to her face that it took a large man with a pocket knife to show her that maybe she did still have something to offer an adult man. Judging by Cross's closed nature and the way it cracked open when they were alone, she thought that she certainly could offer him something more valuable than just someone to share a sack with. She stepped even closer. Close enough that the rock of the waves forced her breasts, crowned with their dusky brown nipples, to brush against his firm chest
There was a definite height differential; Cross was six feet tall, and he'd be surprised if Helena was more than five-two or three. His expression flickered when her hand brushed over his hip, when she pressed against him, and his hands moved to her waist to lift her off her feet. She was light in his grasp and yet her body felt firm and fully feminine as he resettled her against him with a soft exhale of breath. As little as he wanted to take advantage of her or the situation, there was only one thing he could do, and he lowered his head, brushing his mouth over hers, feeling his pulse speed up like the flutter of small wings at his throat.
Helena gasped just a little when he pulled her flush against him. She couldn't help but smile, however, since it became totally unnecessary to daydream about how strong and stable his very fit body was. When he lowered his head to bestow the lightest of kisses she curled both of her arms around his neck. Her lips parted to caress his and she noted that he must have found some of those mint flavored reeds at some point and she was glad she had as well. The faint traces of mint on her breath hopefully covered the fish she'd had for dinner.
A slow build was Cross' way. There was passion in his bones, in his soul, but his method of expressing it was gradual, never rushed. He devoted all of his attention to the kiss, to tasting Helena's mouth as she parted her lips for him, to caressing her back with work-roughened fingers. The sky clouded over even more, darkening as the lake water lapped at their bodies. The pressure in the air spoke of an oncoming storm, possibly a bad one, but that portent faded into the background in favor of this. The lowering of his walls generally left him with a slight uneasy feeling, and that might possibly come later, but he was in the moment, the press of Helena's bare body to his causing the expected reaction.
Helena had come a long way from that shy little bride in white that she'd been a decade earlier. Pregnancy had made her highly aware of her body and its shapes and reactions. Even though it had been a couple of years since she'd gone through those changes, it had left her with such a keen understanding of how her body worked. The kiss slowly grew deeper and warmer, to the point that she could almost forget they were standing in cool water with a rising wind around them. Helena could sense something in Cross, like an engine gathering steam and it excited her. How fast would it go once it was ready? How exhilarating would the ride be? She could feel him growing more excited, the evidence pressing gently against her lower belly. He was...definitely more man than she had expected, that was for sure.
Cross, too, had ceased to feel the chill of the water. Helena's mouth was warm, and the steady thrust of her tongue against his made his blood run hot and caused his hands to wander from their relatively innocuous slide over her back. They explored the soft curves of her behind and ran over her hips and thighs before he sandwiched one hand between them to cup a breast and tweak the nipple gently between two fingers, feeling how it hardened even further beneath his touch. It was about that time that he required air, and he released her mouth to breathe in, cracking his eyes open to see her reaction to what he was doing.
His hand was more than capable of grasping the full weight of her breast and Helena found that she liked that. This was the very last moment that she wanted to be measuring Cross against her ex-husband and so she viciously banished all thoughts like those. She could examine them later because for now, she needed to be here. She sucked in a breath when he lifted his mouth away from hers, the curve of her spine exaggerated slightly as she pressed into his hand. An even higher wave struck her at mid back, pressing her more firmly into his body and she thought she could feel his rapid heartbeat where his full erection pressed against her body. Could they do it here? Could they find a way to make it work while standing in the water? Whether they could or not, it didn't stop her from wanting him right then and there. She dropped on of her hands from around his neck to curl around him much lower, her own hand exploring the curve of his own backside. Nothing in her face could discourage him.
Cross could definitely make it work. All he'd have to do would be to lift her onto his body, wrap her legs around him, guide her with his big hands on her hips. He didn't know if he should, though, as much as the thought of it made him burn and come close to tipping over the edge of reason. His breathing was heavier than normal, shivers racking his frame as she touched him, as she pressed against him. Slowly, he let his hand drop, sliding down her slender torso and insinuating itself between her delicate folds, stroking her open with his fingers. His teeth set into his lip briefly as he felt how warm she was there, how slick. "I don't have a way to keep from gettin' you pregnant," he pointed out softly, his eyes asking the question. He'd be content with some touching, or with nothing if that was what she preferred. It might be too soon anyway, although as he stood here with her, naked and buoyed up by the cool water, his conventions were quickly fading into the background.
As soon as he'd slid his fingers between the folds of her sex Helena's eyes had lost some focus. She'd drawn in a deep, slow breath and let it out in a sigh that was whipped away by the wind. She'd moved slightly against his hand, just a little roll of her hips so that he would know he was touching her just right. His question though brought her eyes back to his and she actually looked genuinely surprised. Pregnancy hadn't really crossed her mind - not as an end result. Of course, she knew why that was. "I can't get pregnant," she told him. Not in a 'I can't handle getting pregnant here' kind of way. More like 'I know that's not possible' kind of way. She said it with conviction, and punctuated it with another delicious squirm.
She hadn't answered the question he hadn't exactly asked, or maybe she had. The way she was holding onto him and rubbing against his invading fingers told him quite a bit. With his free hand, he hitched one of her legs up onto his hip, pulling her up higher on his body and making it easier for him to do what he was doing. Carefully he thrust one finger and then two into her, his hand spread wide so he could brush at her clit with his thumb, kissing her as he felt the throb of his cock against her stomach. The thrust of his tongue became hungrier and more demanding, though he was still paying attention to the nonverbal signals she was sending him.
More than a little bit glad that he didn't ask for more information, Helena threw herself back into the kiss. Tomorrow, she would explain or maybe later when they were dry again and curled up together in bed. She curved her leg around him, holding on to him as tightly as she could while still squirming on his fingers. Even his fingers felt huge inside of her. She wasn't so sure they would make it all the way through this, out here in the water. She gasped against his mouth and shuddered as he stroked her so deep inside. She, too, hadn't forgotten the insistent prodding at her navel. She reached down to curl her fingers around him and she almost gasped again. He was like an iron bar swathed in velvet. A substantial iron bar at that. For a moment, she felt her nerve quake.
Cross was not much less silent during sex than he was in every other aspect of life, but her hand curled around him combined with his fingers stroking inside her prompted him to groan into her mouth, the kiss becoming hotter and less controlled. He wasn't in any hurry as he rubbed at her, his fingers having established an accelerated rhythm; he was aware that she might consider his girth a bit daunting at first, and he wanted her as excited as possible before he made any attempt. He felt her become slicker and hotter, and he broke the kiss so he could look down and see her small fingers curled around him, see his own hand vanished between her legs.
Helena, too, looked down was both thrilled and terrified by what she was seeing. She'd seen a penis up close before, obviously. She'd been married for a decade. She and Edward had been all kinds of intimate (thought they'd never had sex standing up in a lake in full view of whatever world should pass by) and she hadn't thought of herself as an inexperienced woman. However, touching Cross and looking directly at Cross made her mouth go dry and her eyes widen. He was...a big boy. Certainly larger than her husband had ever been on his best day. Cross throbbed insistently in her hand and she could barely get her small fingers halfway around him. She could see his massive chest rising and falling fast in excitement and she knew that he liked her touch. She was just worried that all of this might take a bit more work than they could accomplish out here in the water. "Cross," she started hesitantly but just then his fingers found the very center of her and her stomach did a dip that felt as though she was falling. Her gasp was loud and even more of her liquid heat flooded into his palm. What had she meant to say?
"Hmm?" Cross murmured when she spoke his name. "Wanna go deeper?" He thought that maybe she was concerned about someone walking by and seeing what they were doing; the top half of his body was completely out of the water. As far as he was concerned, a marching band could parade by and he might not pay them any attention, but women were typically less exhibitionist, at least the women he'd known thus far. He kept touching her in a steady rhythm, distracting her, distracting himself, although he did keep his eyes on hers as he waited for her to tell him what she wanted.
Helena shuddered with each stroke of his fingers, her breath hitching as he stroked that magical little spot again and again. He'd found it on purpose, she decided. He'd know what he was looking for. Her fingers stroked him as well now, gently tugging him in the direction of the deeper water. She shook her head though, trying to clear her mind enough to ask the question on her mind. "Do you," she had to pause as a teeth chattering shudder worked its way down her spine, "think I can, that I'll be able to..." She looked down even as he took a step into the deeper water. Not all of his hardon disappeared below the waves and she looked up at him, hoping her nerves weren't going to show on her face. "Do you think I can take it?" she asked, blurting it out really.
A chuckle escaped Cross before he could stop it even as he planted his feet firmly on the sandy bottom after he'd stepped out into the deeper water. He kissed Helena's cheeks and then her mouth with a gentleness that belied how stirred up he was; it was a reassurance of sorts. "Never had it not fit before," he told her, both touched and amused by her question. "Promise I'll be careful," he said, sliding his fingers out from inside her to focus all of his attention on circling her clit with them. He'd take all the time she wanted, all the time she needed, as desperately as he wanted to be inside her. He could be infinitely patient when he needed to be.
Helena blushed and ducked her head under his chin for a moment, laughing against the skin of his chest. It was silly, she knew that. Of course it could be done. Her body was made for all sorts of amazing things. "Ok, ok," she told him breathlessly as his fingers focused on the swollen bit of flesh between her thighs. She tried to focus on stroking him as well but after a few more clever touches from him, she was shifting demandingly against his fingers and panting hot breath between them. Her fingers slipped away from him entirely and she leaned back into the waves, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. She was trying not to be loud because wind or not, sound carried over the water. Squirming and wiggling she suddenly went tense from her jaw to the tips of her toes. Helena held her breath as pleasure crashed over her like a completely different type of wave.
Watching her like that, in the grip of pleasure spurred on by him, was incredible. Cross watched her avariciously, not wanting to miss a second, liking the way she bit her lip and trembled and completely abandoned herself to it. Once she'd stilled, he gently pulled her back up against his body, kissing her even as he settled her into place above him. His feet were braced on the sand, his legs locked, and he pulled her other leg around his waist as he began to carefully ease himself inside her; he watched her face for the slightest flinch of discomfort, the slightest protest, biting his own lip as he used his hands on her hips to slide her onto him. Going slow was a massive effort, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
With her heart still beating like wings against her rib cage, Helena pulled herself back into the now with the help of his kiss. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt release, thinking it must have been well before she'd ever arrived here. Seeing that he was more than ready to experience that feeling for himself, she not only wrapped her leg around him when urged, she rested her hands on his stable shoulders. To her surprise, the water didn't seem to get in the way that much. The smooth, round tip of his cock eased in without any trouble at all and her breath caught in her throat. She sensed how avidly he was watching her face and so she slid one of her hands up his shoulder to cup the nape of his neck, locking her own eyes with his. She could see the strain to go slow, could feel it in his neck, and so she gently massaged the tight muscles there with her fingertips to urge him to relax. Inch followed inch and she couldn't help the sigh of relief when he seemed to be all the way inside of her.
Cross needed distraction from the primal urge to thrust into her hard and fast, so he closed his eyes and began to kiss her mouth with the same steady deliberation with which he slid his hands over the curves of her bottom and rocked her against him, letting her adjust to the feel of him inside her. Even in the aftermath of her pleasure, the fit was incredibly tight, and it took everything he had to take this as easy as the gentle roll of the choppy water that surrounded them. Doing this standing up in water was an athletic pursuit of sorts, but he was fully prepared for it. The muscles in his biceps bunched as he slid her nearly off of him and then fully back down onto him again, over and over, until he had to break away from her mouth to gasp for breath.
Helena buried her hand in his hair as she kissed him back for all that she was worth. She didn't think he would drop her, never, but she was worried that if their motions got too frantic, he'd lose his balance and fall. Who knew what that might result in? She loved that he was taking it easy and still, she had to squirm down on each thrust. It was...an intense feeling, once he built up a rhythm. Filled to the bursting point, she took it upon herself to build up the same need that he was feeling. With her free hand she plucked at the tight little bud of a nipple crowning one of her breasts before her hand delved lower. Almost as though she had to feel it for herself, she carefully touched him where he entered her before teasing her clit with her fingertips.
Cross' eyes had opened so he could watch her, and he was nearly undone by the sight of her slim fingers caressing herself. He moved a little faster, because she was obviously not uncomfortable. He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath coming in harsh exhalations, his hands squeezing her hips as he pushed her down on him. He could feel the surge of impending climax rising, feel his heart pounding fiercely; his eyes were dark and dilated as he looked into Helena's. It was going to take a few more strokes and he'd be there.
Helena, clinging even tighter to him as he pulled her down onto him again and again with enough speed that lake water splashed up between them as they came together. Her own movements, her roll of her hips, the rub from her fingertips and even the clench of her internal muscles started to grow more frantic. With a louder gasp she shuddered around him, her inner walls spasming around him rhythmically as she exploded a second time. She tried to maintain the eye contact he seemed hungry for but the pleasure forced her eyes to flutter shut as she rode it out.
She'd clenched him in a vicelike grip, and when she began to shudder, Cross fell over the edge he'd been riding for breathless, heated moments, spurting into her with a low groan, his hips finally stilling. His own eyes had closed, his breathing choppy, spots of red burning high in his cheeks as his heart thudded wildly. He gradually loosened his grip on her hips, his hands stroking their way up her back, and as he calmed, he began to feel the coolness of the water again all around them. Slowly, his eyes opened and he regarded the landscape around them, completely forgotten until now. There was still nobody around, the wind was still high and the skies darkening by the minute.
She'd been content to nestle against his chest for the time being, listening to the thud of his heart under her ear. It was louder than the wind and she clung to him until his grip on her started to loosen. With the faintest grunt, she shifted her weight higher and he slid out of her body, the cold water rushing in to fill the void. Helena shivered as she, too, started to notice how cold the water was, how chill the wind was getting. She frowned up at the dark clouds a moment before turning to peer up at his face. She lifted one hand to lightly touch his stubbled cheek. "We should go in," she told him. "That storm is getting closer, I think." It had looked ominous all day but it was passing into downright threatening.
"Think so," he agreed. He smiled faintly at her when she brushed her fingers over his cheek, then he tried to unlock his legs, staggering a bit as he did. Sheepishly, he walked her to the shore once he regained his balance, one hand at the small of her back. He felt wrung out in the most pleasant of ways, and the thought of putting his pants and shoes back on and gathering up the rest of his clothing almost seemed like more than he could do. He supposed he'd manage.
Helena really appreciated the gentle touch on her back. The waves weren't so strong that she couldn't keep her feet but she did feel a little jelly-legged. The walk back also seemed like miles. What's more, they would have to act casual when they returned to camp which didn't line up with the giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to stretch out bare on her blankets and let her hair dry in the warmth of the fire. Huddling into her fuzzy bathrobe would have to do. When they made it to shore there was a brief hunt for all of their clothes, the wind having blown them out of the bushes. Helena was pleased that her boxers were nearly dry. She might even be able to put them on again before the rain struck. Before putting on the robe, she stood behind the bushes and wrung out her hair. It was a long and imperfect process to comb her hair with her fingers. She'd save that for when she could sit next to the fire.
Cross got himself into his pants after a couple of false starts; his legs wanted to be clumsy for some reason. His socks were only a little bit damp, so he put them on before he sat down on the purple grass to lace his feet into his work shoes. While he waited for Helena to get dressed, he raked his fingers through his hair to get it to some semblance of neatness, figuring the wind would dry it the rest of the way as they walked back to camp. Everything had changed, and yet he felt the same sense of comfort he'd had with Helena since almost the very beginning. Things had changed, yet some things remained the same. When he saw her emerge, he got to his feet and picked up his t-shirt. "Ready?" he asked.
She smiled when she saw him waiting patiently and nodded. Her damp clothes were draped over one arm and her long hair dangled down her back, soaking in to the fleece a little. "Yeah, ready." Should she reach for his hand? Maybe put her arm around him? How close did this mean that they were and would he mind if she felt the need to be close after an act like that? She was a habitual cuddler but she could hold off until they were alone in bed before seeking that kind of affection if he would prefer it that way.
Cross' mind was a pleasant blank at the moment, and that was what he preferred. He wasn't thinking about if he should behave as if nothing had happened or not, wasn't pondering over how close was too close or not close enough. It didn't occur to him that she might feel spurned if there wasn't any closeness, and most likely the fact that he wasn't thinking about such matters at all was a blessing, because his motions were completely unfeigned when he lightly laced the fingers of his free hand through hers as they began to walk along the curve of the shore that would take them back to camp.
Oh, that would do. She offered him a completely youthful smile as she fell into step with him, her fingers closing the link tightly. She had noticed that it was no big deal to him and as they walked in the relative silence of a shore where there was a storm picking up, she started to wonder if this development today had just been the culmination of something Cross had already known. She'd described her feelings towards or from Cross to a few people like being claimed and now more than ever she felt like she had been. It was...still reassuring, strange as that was to admit. She was a strong woman and if she didn't want Cross's protection she could tell him. He'd back off, no argument offered. At least, she couldn't see it being much. But now...well, she didn't see a separation in the immediate future, she felt a commitment looming. Even if it was an unspoken one. Or maybe it had already been made and what she felt as they walked at a leisurely pace, hand in hand across the blustery beach, was just an echo.