No More Beige

She wanted to swallow him, devour him, to flood her mouth and paint her face with him.

"River," he cried out, jumping between her lips, fulfilling her desire as he came for her, feeding her, bathing her lips and mouth and face with surges of white hot elixir.

He tasted so good – like nirvana on her tongue.

Watching his face she revelled in the molten blur in his eyes, the way his focus took so long to return. I did that to him. She felt triumphant, invincible.

She lifted her hand, smiling, using her fingertips to wipe droplets from her cheek and transfer them to her mouth, so caught up in his divine, salty taste that she failed to register the sudden hostility that froze him.

"What the hell is that?" His tone was lethal, instantly erasing the wanton haze from her mind. He looked ready to kill.

She scrambled back, recoiling from the arctic blast of his eyes, struck with the chilling awareness that despite this, despite their sexual affinity and previous banter, he was still a stranger, a man she barely knew.

"What?" she asked carefully, baffled, shying away when he wrenched her left hand up and waved it in the air.

Then she saw it – the white, obvious tan line on her ring finger. Her stomach flipped over.

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Engaged?"

She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Fuck." He moved so quickly Cara had no time to form her defence as he bolted from the tent, his erection ebbing away.

She ran after him, clutching his arm. "Wait."

He shook her off, his lean face was unforgiving. "There's nothing guaranteed to turn me off more than a cheating whore. Jesus. Do you know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your fucking chest? I won't take part in doing that to anyone."

She'd hit a nerve, learning more about him in one statement than she had all day.

"Let me explain," she pleaded.

"Don't bother River. Save it for someone who cares, like the poor dropkick whose sloppy seconds I just stirred."

"That's disgusting."

"But true, right?"

It was – and it wasn't. She didn't answer.

"I've heard it all before anyway," he spat, listing excuses. "He doesn't understand you. He doesn't fuck you enough. You needed one last bang before the wedding. Maybe he's the cheating dog or screwing around is a regular pastime for you. Nothing would surprise me."

Cara's face bleached white "You are way off, and you know what? I'm not going to slap your judgemental face because it's obvious someone's done a number on you. No wonder you're angry."

"Oh I'm not angry," he stalked to the jeep. "I am fucking furious. 'One lover, never touched myself, never had an orgasm'," he mimicked her. "You'd be far more believable Lady, if you didn't deep-throat cock like a seasoned porn star."

She felt the tell-tale sting of tears welling in her eyes and hated herself for it. Was she going to take his accusations without standing up for herself? Let him drive away thinking she was a calculated bitch? Lie down like a passive corpse and just take it?

Like I do with Colin.

Dashing in front of the driver's door, she barred his way.

"Move." His voice was deadly.

"Uh-uh. I've listened to your rant, now you're going to hear mine."

"Get out of my way River. That's your last warning."

She didn't budge. "I know you're a man of honour, I know you're not going to hurt me so threats are meaningless. All I ask is that you hear me out."

A muscle ticked in his cheek, his jaw tensing. He folded his arms across his massive chest, the cynicism in his gaze burning right through her.

"Everything I've told you is the truth. I'm flattered that you rated me as a pro because I've never had a dick in my mouth. I've never masturbated because I didn't believe I could orgasm. I've never been taken from behind, never been on top, never had my nipples sucked, never had a man go down on me, or talk dirty to me. I've never experienced any of those things until today."

"Nice try." His patent disbelief made her want to hit him.

Silently she cursed the woman who'd hurt him. Whoever she was, she'd made a fine job of it.

"I get missionary sex maybe four or five times a year, multiply that by six years and calculate in four minutes per bang if I'm really lucky. How's your maths?"

She'd shocked him. There was a brief hint of pity in his face then ice reclaimed his features.

"So what do you get from him? There has to be some kind of pay-off."

She flinched as his words hit home. She'd never confronted the reasons why she stayed with Colin.

For the first time since she'd taken off her bikini, Cara truly felt naked, not just stripped bare but completely exposed – her body, her heart, her soul.

"Ten years ago today, my mother died," she said quietly. "My family fell apart. I guess my pay-off is having a substitute Dad who cares more for me than the bottle."

It hurt to say it out loud.

"I'm not going to marry him Dominic. I've known it for months, years even, I just couldn't articulate why until now."

His anger receded. The dynamics between them shifted, deepened, went beyond physical attraction.

"I want a life with no more beige," she said simply.

"Meaning?"

"I didn't know what was possible until today. I'm so thankful to you, for more than just the sex. I've never felt so comfortable in my own skin. I've never been this brutally honest with myself. I haven't laughed so hard in ten years."

She took his hand. "Your good opinion matters to me."

"You don't even know me." Then he smiled, the same wicked grin he'd been giving her all day, one eyebrow quirking up. "Apart from in the biblical sense."

She laughed, stepping in to his arms.

"But I want to. I want to know you."

* * *

Cara sat with the flyscreen open, staring up at the night sky, marvelling at the abundance of stars, the clarity of the Milky Way. It was a stunning sight that couldn't be viewed from the city. Already she'd witnessed three shooting stars and wished on every single one.

Gazing up at the heavens somehow brought her closer to her mother.

The bed rustled behind her, a hot, muscled body curled around her back, a hand stroked her skin rubbing gentle circles over her spine.

"What are you doing up?" Dominic asked.

"Thinking," she answered.

About you. Everything.

It was funny how shedding her clothes had done far more than simply reveal her skin. It had stripped her psychological guard, making it impossible to ignore her frustrations. It had exposed her timid unwillingness to take control of her life.

Most important of all, being nude had made it so much easier to indulge in sex, sex, and more mind-blowing sex.

Nudity is downright dangerous, she decided.

She turned to him. "Actually, I'm thinking of petitioning Obama to change National Nude Day to Karma Sutra Day."

"Jesus River, are you trying to kill me?" he groaned. "Another forty positions before morning?"

"Somebody's got to support the cause."

"I like the way you think," he chuckled.

"Ditto."

A plaintive whine pierced the night, cutting through their laughter.

"Don't get jealous Jed," she called.

And with a contented sigh Cara fell back in to bed.

(Hi, I'm relatively new to this site and this is my first competition entry ever. Please vote and (hopefully) leave some diplomatic comments – very fragile ego over here!)