No More Beige

She stared down at his inviting back.

"I should tell you, I don't accept rides from strangers."

He threw a smug look over his shoulder. "You already have."

"I haven't forgotten," she blushed, climbing on his back.

He turned his head and pressed his cheek to hers, then hoisted himself up and walked on. "I know I never will."

Pertly she said, "But I wasn't really on top."

"That little technicality can be easily fixed," he promised.

Cara hugged his promise to herself, excitement making her impatient to reach his camp.

Being piggy-backed reminded her of the carefree holidays she'd spent here as a child but that was where the comparison ended.

Arms around his neck, her hands had free access to roam his muscled chest, cementing her newfound predilection for gym junkies. Her breasts squashed in to his shoulder blades, lifting to tender points against his hot skin. With his hands under her knees and her legs straddling his back, she bounced and jolted and rubbed against him every step of the way.

"This is killing me," he ground out, echoing her exact thoughts.

"I'm not that heavy," she argued, affronted.

He looked over his shoulder, lids half closed over turbulent eyes.

"Not heavy," he exhaled. "Just…wet."

Butterflies exploded in her stomach, her heart racing away. She was wet, slicked against the small of his back, her clitoris throbbing from the contact. She'd never known her body could produce so much moisture. Her head reeled with the discovery.

She kissed him lightly on the shoulder, a little embarrassed. "What if I put your shorts on? Will that make it better?"

He gave her a dark look. "There's only one thing I can think of to relieve my pain, and it doesn't involve you getting dressed."

Looking down over his shoulder she saw he was fully engorged, his third eye pointing straight up at her, winking in the sun. Thinking of taking him in her mouth made her blush. That was something else she'd never done – the idea had never appealed until now.

"Here," she said, hastily stuffing his shorts between her legs. The material was decidedly scratchy, the chafe driving her to distraction.

"I haven't been this sex mad since I was eighteen," he admitted.

Cara didn't confess that she'd never been sex mad, ever.

Instead she asked, "How old are you?"

He shrugged, "Thirty-two. And you?"

"Twenty-four, going on eighteen."

He chuckled at her joke then came to an abrupt halt..

"Listen," he said, craning his neck to face her, his expression suddenly serious. "We didn't use contraception."

"I'm covered, I'm on the pill."

"That's not the only worry."

She squeezed his bicep in assurance. "Look, apart from the odd yabby, I'm clean."

"Holy shit," he eyeballed her. "What are yabbies?"

"You know, kind of like crabs."

"Jesus. Now you tell me?"

To his credit he didn't drop her, but she had to laugh when one arm tightened under her leg as he scratched.

"Mate, I'm just giving you shit. A yabby is a sort of miniature fresh water crayfish. You're safe, believe me. Bit too late to worry about it now anyway."

He threw her a dirty smile. "Might as well capitalise on this situation then."

"Too right," she agreed. "Let's get going before you shrivel up and drop off."

"River, you are not comforting me one bit, not by a long shot."

Cara dissolved in hysterics on his back and he knew he'd been had.

"Well, now that we've cleared that up without any need for ointment…shall we go on my Lady?"

My lady…

She liked the sound of that.

On the way they disturbed a family of kangaroos, watching with delight as they skipped away.

"Wow," he said under his breath, enthralled.

"I know," Cara agreed. "I never get sick of it."

"The lucky country huh?"

"It is today," she snuggled in to his neck, thinking about the first multiple orgasm she'd ever experienced, salaciously hoping there'd be many more to follow.

* * *

He carried her all the way, barely breaking a sweat. His sheer level of physical fitness was astounding. In no time at all he set her down beside his cold campfire.

"Welcome to my temporary hide." He stretched out his arms.

Camping gear had always been a passion with her. A cosy dome tent faced towards the fire, a large water cooler sat on the table, and beside it, a state of the art cooking stove she'd wanted to buy for herself but hadn't got around to yet.

"Awesome," she said approvingly.

Walking to the water cooler, he twisted the tap and caught the flow in a metal cup.

"Water?"

"Yes please."

She joined him beside the table, her fingers brushing against his as she took it from him. Draining the cup in one swill, she gave it back to him, spellbound as he did the same. Head tipped back, his throat working in gulps, she realised anew that he was still tall, still gorgeous, still naked.

His eyes narrowed as he caught her look.

"I'm officially changing your name to River Witch. Dog first, remember?"

"Of course." But she couldn't help the tiny stab of disappointment that struck her.

"My good intentions are easily led astray though." He moved closer. "It might be better to eat first."

The immoral smile that spread across his face had her toes curling in to the ground.

"I am a bit hungry."

"I wasn't talking about food."

"Neither was I," she confessed, with a sinful smile all her own.

"Well since you're my guest, I better set the table."

Huh?

Cara watched with a little interest and a lot of heat as he dragged his double mattress out of the tent in to the sun.

"Right here?" she asked, her mind boggling.

"Are we christening Nude Day in style or what?"

"Who are you?" she declared in amazement. "No, on second thoughts, don't answer that. I think I'd die of disappointment if you told me your name was Fred!"

His enigmatic look had her worried.

"It's not is it?"

"Not at all," he laughed. "I was just wondering if we'd ever get around to names."

"Well?" she prompted.

He held out his hand. "Dominic Cain at your service ma'am."

Dominic… His name was as beautiful as he was.

They shook hands.

"And yours?" he asked. "And don't tell me it's Jane, I might just die laughing."

"Gee thanks Tarzan," she shot back, insulted.

His eyebrows quirked upwards. "It's not, surely not."

"Well, it is my middle name."

He cracked up. "River Jane, I don't believe it."

"Actually…" She stared down at his hand, still engulfing hers. He had long tanned fingers. Was there anything about him that was unappealing?

"It's Cara Jane. Cara Jane Gibson. Nice to meet you." Extremely nice.

"Cara," he said, testing the name on his tongue.

"Cara," he repeated, tugging her closer.

"Don't wear it out," she warned, knowing that if he said it with that sexy American accent a third time she'd throw him back on the mattress and jump his bones. As if that wasn't on the cards already!

"I liked the taste of you, Cara."

Her eyes rolled back in her head. "That's it! On your back Mister."

He let go of her hand and sat down on the bed, his penis bobbing between his legs. "Are all Australians as demanding as you are?"

"I thought it was Americans who held the reputation for being pushy."

"No wonder," he sniggered. "I liked pushing in to you. Get over here so I can do it again."

"You're outrageous," she snapped, dazed and turned-on in equal measure. Her legs shook with anticipation.

"What can I say?" He glanced down at his erection. "You bring out my bad boy."

Cara didn't move. She felt as if she'd grown roots and was planted in the ground.

Here he was, her dream man, hard and waiting, and she was irresolute, realising she didn't know what to do. She'd never instigated a sexual act in her life and wasn't quite sure how to start.

The humour left his face as he noticed her hesitation. "Have I upset you?"

"I know I seemed all wild down at the river what with my nakedness and all, but…"

"You're kind of innocent aren't you?"

She nodded, humbled by his quick understanding. "Honestly? I've only ever had one lover until now. I'd never even had an orgasm until about half an hour ago."

"Wow River. Wow. I think I just grew another inch."

That put the smile back on her face. "You should feel damned privileged, buster."

His hand wrapped around his throbbing tool, slowly pumping up and down. "So this is what privileged feels like."

"You're a certified lost cause," Cara mocked, mesmerised, growing wetter by the second.

"Cara." Staring her in the eye he held out his hand. "Come here."

Her feet moved of their own volition, her hand clasping his as if he'd thrown her a lifeline.

"Time for that ride," he said, pulling her closer.

Eyes flaring wide she stepped over him, but before she could sit down he grasped her bottom and propelled her forwards on to his face.

"Oh," she gasped, watching his tongue part her delicate folds, transfixed by the sight of his mouth clamped to the seeping crossroad between her legs.

"You taste beautiful," he told her. "You are beautiful."

Her wobbly legs couldn't hold her any longer. She dropped, sliding down his chest on to his lap, seeking his mouth with hers, wanting to taste herself on his lips again. Their kiss went on forever, building the ache inside her until she was angling him with her hand, rising up to plunge back down.

His arms tightened around her, dangling her just out of reach. Cara squealed in frustration.

"Not yet, impatient one," he teased. "Show me how you touch yourself."

Cara blushed. "I don't…"

He looked at her as if she was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. "Want me to show you?"

His offer was compelling, one she couldn't refuse.

Shifting her around, he settled her back against his chest, bending her knees up and lowering her feet outside his legs. She twisted her head and kissed him, entwining her tongue with his as his hands smoothed over her flat belly and up and down her slender thighs.

"Watch," he instructed.

Cara looked down, hypnotised as his fingers slid in to her wet heat, drawing moisture up to circle her jutting clitoris.

"You are so wet," he whispered in her ear. "So very, very wet…and hot…and ready." He slipped a finger inside. "Do you see that? Do you know how incredible it feels to be buried deep inside you? Do you know how sweet and hot and tight you are?"

Moaning, she slanted her hips, silently pleading for more.

Maintaining his captivating onslaught he lifted his other hand and glazed her beaded nipples with her own juices. "That's a special treat for me. That's for when I turn you around and slide in to you. I am going to lick and suck and savour your beautiful taste."

Cara whimpered, conscious of nothing but his rigid shaft pressed in to her back, his hard body surrounding hers, his fingers creating magic while his voice weaved a spell around her.

Disengaging her clawed nails from his knee, he drew her fingers down, moving them under his.

"You are so good at this. Look at how beautiful you are, like an exotic flower. Feel how slippery and smooth you are. No-one knows better than you how hot and wet you can be."

She wasn't sure when her hands took over from his; when the burn inside her grew so ravenous she had to feed it by pushing faster, reaching higher.

"That's it River," he groaned, his hands sculpting her breasts, his pelvis rolling behind her, his erection rubbing against her spine. "Show me how good you are. Show me what you can do."

Cara's fingers circled swift and sure, her head drooping back on his shoulder as she pleasured herself, her hips softly rising and falling, her muscles drawing in tight, her body wanting to fly.

"All the way," he goaded. "Take it all the way. Feel your hot, sweet flower. Feel your burning, beautiful pussy and let it all go."

She hovered on the brink then fell, wailing as her climax slammed home.

"So beautiful," he whispered. Hoisting her off the ground he rotated her, seating her hard on his twitching cock. All the air flew out of her lungs as she pulsed around him, collapsing on his chest, uttering inarticulate, breathless sounds.

"You're a champion," he said, pulling her head back to look in her clouded eyes. "But don't pass out on me yet River. You're not finished by a long shot."

Her eyelids fluttered as she took in his silky words, her irises clearing as she focused on his mouth tracing kisses across her collarbone and down to her breasts. His tongue flickered out, licking her sweetness from her skin before he suckled her fully in to his mouth.

Leisurely he lifted her up then brought her slowly down, letting her catch her breath before he pushed her back to the edge.

"So tight," he murmured, raising her up, then down. "So wet," he thrust up in to her. "So powerful."

He didn't have to do any more. Cara was beyond light and sound, floating in sensory paradise as she took control of the rhythm, riding him in a whirl of sensation. She forgot that she'd never done this before, forgot everything but the glory of embracing the new world and making it her own.

Dominic lay back and let her go. She was amazing, glorious, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she rose and fell – her sweet rosy nipples, her perfect breasts heaving with every breath, her skin polished to a golden sheen.

The beauty of her face surpassed her gorgeous body. Her emerald gaze was hidden behind fluttering lashes, mouth parted and swollen from his kisses, her head tipped back, her hair a tumble of silk through his hands.

He remained a rapt spectator until she reached down and parted her lips for him, revealing the glossy dark pink of her, the snug fusion of their bodies. The exquisite sight kicked him in the gut and he lost control. Helplessly rearing up, he drove in to her wet heat, mindlessly bursting inside her, spilling every drop he had to give.

* * *

They dozed for awhile, the sun still high in the sky, arms and legs tangled, her golden hair spilling over his chest. His body woke first, the soft pressure of her thigh across his crotch, heating and drawing his blood.

"Mm," he groaned, pulling her closer, prodding her leg.

"Jed," she answered, sitting up in a rush. "Shit. Jed."

"Does this mean I have to move?" he grumbled.

"Sure does," she answered, bending down to press kisses to his mouth, his chest, his stomach, his raging hard-on. His flesh leapt beneath her lips. Mournfully, she pulled back.

"Don't stop now River. That was just getting interesting."

"Shut up," she laughed. "And get up."

His eyes flicked open, his eyebrows wriggling up and down. "I am up."

Cara rolled her eyes. "You want to be held responsible for the deaths of god knows how many defenceless bandicoots just for the sake of a little gratification?"

"A little?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes, ruefully looking down at the mammoth stud that caused rabid jealousy in men's change rooms. "That insult stings Lady. You're hurting me."

Cara couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much, had this much fun, felt so light-hearted and carefree. Had it really been ten years?

She watched him spring to life, diving in to his tent for his car keys. She liked the way his dark hair stood up all spiky, a combination of river water and the feverish touch of her fingers. She liked his ribald humour, his swaggering confidence, the way he sauntered to his jeep as if he owned the world.

"So what are you waiting for?" He held the passenger door open for her.

Her eyes popped out. "A t-shirt, a long one, would be nice."

"Let's see." He held an imaginary phone up to his ear, nodded, then slammed it down on the bonnet. "We regret to inform you that the American government has denied your request. You are hereby ordered to stay naked, sexy, and hot for the rest of the day."

"What if somebody sees us?" she squeaked.

"Then goddamn, lucky them."

Who was she to argue? Celebrating Nude Day with a gorgeous American was far more agreeable than thinking about Colin, or depressing over her family or her mother. She was trading painful memories for joyful ones.

They laughed all the way back to her campsite, his constant allusions to his gearstick leaving her breathless.

Even in repose his cock was beautiful. She longed to touch it, handle it, lick it like an ice-cream, hold it in her mouth and suck it all the way in. The strength of her yearning hit her like a sledgehammer. She'd never known she could grow attached to an appendage.

Before she knew it she was darting under his arm, burying her face between his thighs, her mouth questing for satisfaction.

She was highly disgruntled when he pulled her up.

"We will never find your dog if you start that shit," he told her. "And yes, I'm killing myself for being so conscientious."

"You are a gentleman," she crowed.

"Shush, don't tell anyone."

He pulled up beside her car, yanking on the handbrake. She was relieved to see that apart from her gear the campground was still deserted. Sliding on the huge flip-flops he'd loaned her she got out of the jeep.

"Don't know what you were worried about," Dominic pointed. Lying in the shade beside his water bowl was her sleeping puppy, apparently dreaming of chasing rabbits, his legs jerking as he snoozed.

"Ooh, the little shit," she bemoaned, torn between amusement, relief and frustration.

"Mission accomplished," he crooned in her ear, wrapping his arms around her and frogmarching her towards the tent. "Now you get to finish what you started."

"I was kind of looking forward to searching for him in the nuddy. You know, running through the bush jumping over prickles and spikes."

"Don't stress River." He nudged her bottom. "I've got a spike for you."

She spun around, giving him a pat down. "OK Mister. Where are you hiding the Viagra?"

"You're my Viagra." He kissed her, his mouth hard and fierce.

A yip had them pulling apart.

"Jed." She crouched down, patting the puppy who'd ingeniously found his way home. Any thought of retribution over her trashed clothes was gone, though she wasn't pleased when he licked the big man's foot, eagerly wagging his tail.

"Some bodyguard you are," she sighed for the umpteenth time, calling Jed over to the chain and attaching it to his collar.

"Just be thankful he didn't shred your tent."

Cara turned to see Dominic had taken up residence inside her nylon two-man, a sinful grin on his face. She saluted him. "On my way, just give me a minute."

"I'm counting the seconds, River."

She rushed to put food out for her dog, her own tongue hanging out as she thought about what was coming next.

He was sprawled across her bed, rock hard and ready.

This time there was no hesitation, no doubt in her mind. She sank to her knees and worshipped him with her hands and mouth, feeling the smooth, velvety texture of his head, the latent, humming power in his steel.

She'd never known she could have so much control over another human being. Never imagined she could reduce a man to a moaning, writhing frenzy.

She fed off his reactions; the way his head thrashed on her pillow, the way his jaw clenched, his stomach tightened, the way his back arched raising his pelvis for more, the feel of his hands wound in her hair, gently leading her on, gradually growing more demanding.

He felt so good packing her mouth and throat, muffling her moans of contentment. She mounted his thigh and grounded herself, gliding moisture over his skin. Her hands warped around him as she licked and sucked and stroked, fuelling the rising fever in him – in both of them.