<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/ixPeHzf.jpg)</div>With the chuckle, she could feel Gabe’s confidence increase, and she was glad of it.  The world had evolved past The Graduate and Mrs. Robinson, and Blame It on Rio.  It didn’t need to be furtive or awkward, and there was absolutely nothing more natural than two unattached people acting on their desires.  At least with his age, she doubted that he was married, and she no longer suffered that so-called-exalted state herself.<br/><br/>Her fingers wasted only enough time working his top up so as to enjoy it a bit longer, her fingers enmeshed in the sensation of smooth, soft skin, body heat, fabric damp from the humidity and perspiration, while her eyes were locked on his, a lazy smile encouraging him to forget his worries and just do what came naturally, with a little flick of her tongue over her upper lip hinting at her own desire to use that tongue in any number of interesting ways on his person.<br/><br/><em>“Good.  Daring is good.  Make the most of your experiences and opportunities, Gabriel.  Cui bono?  Whenever someone or some convention might stop you from doing something you think you might like to do, ask that question.  Who benefits?  A lot of the time, the real answer is that they do, if only because they don’t want someone else doing what they’d love to do, if they only had the nerve.”</em><br/><br/>She didn’t say, and didn’t have to say, that she hadn’t known that at his age.  It had taken a number of let-downs and disappointments before she’d seen the light, but that didn’t mean Gabriel had to wait.<br/><br/>When she’d gotten the top worked up to where he was going to have to move to let her get his shirt from up to off, and nodded, signifying her approval of his steady gaze and reinforcing it with a nod and a heated smile before he raised his arms, and, regrettably, removed his hands from their hold on her body.  This time, however, she was pretty certain he wouldn’t wait for an invitation to put them back.<br/><br/>His words, almost groaned, intensified her smile, and added to her arousal, as well as being ultimately satisfying, with an underlying sweetness that added an air of innocence to what they were about to do that almost brought a sting to her eyes.  She diverted the response to a silent promise that she would make sure this night would unforgettable, something that he might look back fondly to when his future wife had said she was ‘too tired’ or his children were clamoring for a new gaming console, a new car, or demanding why they couldn’t do something dangerous or reckless.<br/><br/><em>“Thank you.  I’m glad you think so … and I’ve been on yachts before, and they’re overrated.  As for being painted or sculpted … why should the canvas have all the fun?  I’ll be your canvas, your clay, and you can paint me, shape me, bend me …” </em>She gave a low chuckle, though there was no hint of derision in it as she glowed with the effect of his regard, with no false modesty to get in the way.<br/><br/>Her hands were itching to perform a similar service on his pants, but he moved first, his fingers hooking in the band of her skirt.  His face was intent, and he worked the skirt down without hesitation, even when the tight fabric clung teasingly, and she loved the feel of his fingers, against skin, against lace, and she offered no assistance until they had been tugged down her hips.  To show her approval, she angled her thigh to ease the remaining journey, and anchored herself as he followed the skirt to the deck as his lips found the taut skin of her stomach, firm as a demanding exercise regimen could make it, and if the elasticity wasn’t quite what it was when she was a teenager, she had little doubt that the view of lace against her tanned skin was one that would stir.  Her fingers moved to the railing on the deck, anchoring herself as she stepped from the skirt with heart racing, moaning softly as he kissed her stomach, the softness of it against the bites making her ache, and oh, so very wet in anticipation.<br/><br/>Lauren and Brett were, for the moment, forgotten, the beach below as well save for the cooling breeze that blew up off the water and added its kiss to Gabe’s as he eased back and looked up at her.<br/><br/>They stared at each other for a heated moment, and then his eyes dropped and raised again, almost challengingly, and she gave another lazy smile, reaching out with languid fingers to brush tendrils of his hair back as he began pulling down the little scrap of cloth.   Her eyes drank it all in,  moving just enough to split her attention between his face, and the sight of her tanned, bare mons against the frame of the lace, rosy lips parting slightly as she shifted her leg.  Her smile didn’t falter, but her breathing had quickened, her breasts rising and falling more emphatically.<br/><em><br/>“Much, much better than on some ogliarch’s yacht,” </em>she assured him, reaching out to lay her fingers on his temple before threading into his hair, her gaze wandering lower as she anticipated what she might find when it was her turn.<em> “Though if you feel like a sailor just into port, we’re certainly close enough to the ocean.”</em><br/>