It’s only once he turns my hand loose to go down first, that I realize just how long he held my hand. It felt natural, like he was an extension of my hand. For some reason, this makes me feel all kinds of odd.

We amble down the path, my eyes downcast, my thoughts dark and murky. Shame and embarrassment float around in my head, and a tingle of illicit thought. The earth and stone rise on either side of my head, adding to my sense of oppression.

When we descend to the beach, coming out of the not-quite-tunnel, Dryas turns to me with a grin. It’s so bright out that I have to shade my eyes. But then too, the brightness of the sun brings the sultry heat that I feel against my skin.

I can’t complain about that, honestly. Nor do I complain when Dryas strips off his navy tee shirt. My mouth goes dry. He has so much gorgeous skin, well-muscled, and dusted with a bit of dark chest hair. The hair continues below his belly button and darts down below his waist, where it disappears.

I’m staring, and I’m aware that I’m staring. That makes me blush, along with the realization that I’m supposed to do the same thing now. Just strip away the layers of protection that separate me from the outer world.

For his part, Dryas turns away and takes off his pants, his perfectly-sculpted buttocks and hairy legs looking amazing. As he pads down the beach to the water line, I realize that he’s giving me time to shed my clothes without being stared at.

My hands tremble, but I’m determined. I lift my dress up over my head, shivering at the warm air against my newly nude skin. I have the hardest time stepping out of my panties, but I look at Dryas, who is wading into the water.

If he can do it, I suppose I can too. Leaving the lacy panties behind in the sand, I practically trip over myself in my hurry to get down to the water line. Scrunching up my face, I plunge in. I’m pleasantly surprised to find the water warm, nearly the temperature of a faintly cooled bath.

I was expecting the water to be brisk for some reason. It makes sense that the water would be warm under this hot sun, though. I cover my breasts with my hands. Wading out until the water rises almost to the bottom of my breasts, I see Dryas turn around.

God, but that man is beautiful. The swirls of sea water only play up his yellow-green eyes. The blue sky makes his dusky skin glow. He walks toward me, tall and very... just virile and masculine, his expression carefully blank.

It’s the first moment I can ever recall thinking, I am going to take a mental picture because I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. Under my hands, my nipples pebble to peaks.

Dryas comes closer, rising as he walks into the shallower water. I stumble back a few steps, and he comes too, the water falling away from his perfectly sculpted torso. Instinctively, I swallow and glance below his navel, to where that line of dark hair leads.

But that is the point of swimming nude, I see. Whatever is going on there, I am not going to get any hints. When I glance back up at his face, his lips are curved upward.

“Get your fill of looking at me?” he asks.

Caught red-handed, my face goes pink with shame. “Yes,” I mumble.

“Good,” he says, lunging for me.

I scream just as he grabs me by the arm, lifting me up. Then he flops both of us down into the water. The next thing I know I am opening my eyes underwater and yelling in surprise. A thousand tiny bubbles are everywhere, coming from everything.

Also, the salt water stings my eyes. I surface with a gasp, bringing up my hands to whip back my hair and wipe away the water from my eyes. Sputtering, I look at Dryas.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

It’s only when I see his averted gaze that I realize that my breasts are totally uncovered. Cupping my hands over my breasts, I am totally scandalized. “You did that on purpose!!”

He rises in the water, looking devilish. “I swear, I didn’t. I just thought you would have more fun if we got the going-under-the-water thing out of the way.”

At my disbelieving scowl, he laughs. “You’re right, I was testing to see if you are a witch.”

“What?” I cock my head, confused.

He takes in my response, then rolls his eyes. “I forget that you were raised in the church with no access to a normal education. Frankly, I’m surprised that this hasn’t happened before.”

I drop into the water, swimming a little. “I’m smart. I pick up context clues. But what do you mean about me being a witch?”

“It’s something centuries old. They—”

“Who is they?” I cut in.

He gives me a look and my cheeks color faintly. “The Catholic Church, or just the powerful men in a town.”

I squint thoughtfully. “Oh.”

I didn’t see what he meant, but that was neither here nor there.

“So, the guys from the church would throw a suspected witch in a large body of fresh water. And because they believed that she had… I don’t know, spurned the sacrament of baptism maybe… anyway, the moral of the story is that the innocent would drown, and a witch would bob on the surface like we’re doing.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” I screw up my face. “And this was when, exactly?”

“I don’t know. Probably in the 1600s or 1700s?” He sinks down to float beside me. “Want to race?”

“Actually…” I glance at him. “I really want to float on my back. Will you close your eyes?”

I expect him to make a scene, but he just shuts his eyes and floats on his back. I get a glimpse of his cock, but that’s not what I’m supposed to be doing. So, I close my eyes and spread my arms wide, pushing off the bottom to just… float.

It’s nice. Tranquil. The water is warm around my body. The sun feels good, beating down on my skin. My head just bobs along. Half the time I’m listening to muted underwater sounds and half the time I’m awash in the sound of the waves crashing. The sensation of being free, of truly being in the open, lulls my senses like no other.

When Dryas speaks, I turn my head toward him and open my eyes. He’s still got his eyes shut, his hands spread out like colossal wings. He looks peaceful, which I just now realize is a word I’ve never associated with him.

“If I were to let you go right now, what would you do?” he asks, his voice half drowned out by the roar of the sea.

The question shocks me. I look at him again, to make sure he’s not teasing me or making fun of me. But no, he isn’t doing either. He’s just passive, for the first time in a long time.

I sink back into the water, thinking. He’s apparently in no rush because he doesn’t prompt me. He just floats there, beside me.

“I think… I would have to find my sister,” I say, my voice faltering.

“Forget your sister.” His voice still rings with command, even when we’re out here in the sea. “You aren’t tied to anyone or anything. Where would you go?”

My mouth twists as I think. Really, I’ve never stopped to consider what I would do. Always I have been a big sister and a worshipper first, never just…

A person.

God, what life would have been like if my mother hadn’t died. That’s when I think that things went so terribly wrong for me. I imagine being happy, laughing for no reason.

My relationships would be so different with everyone. I’d be my own person. I’ve always liked baking. Maybe I’d have a job doing that.

Oooh, or something with drawing. Maybe I’d even have a sweet and sensitive boyfriend.

Dryas finally prompts me. “Rue? You’re thinking so loudly that I can almost hear it, but not quite.”

I bite my lip. Will he think my imaginings are stupid? Probably. So I keep it short but sweet.

“I think I’d do something with drawing.” I pause, hesitating. “I don’t know where I would go. Paris, maybe.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “That sounds nice.”

“What about you?” I ask, shading my eyes from the sun.

“Me? What do you mean?”

“If you could go anywhere and do anything, where would you go?”

He rises out of the water a little, looking at me with a perplexed expression. “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

For some reason, the wind is knocked out of my lungs at his response. I’ve never thought about what he is going through or what he sees when he looks around at the world. The fact that this is his fantasy, his happy ever after… He could be doing anything at all, but he’s…

What, here holding me against my will? I have a vague idea that he’s doing it to get back at Father Derrik, but I don’t know why.

What does that say about his standards?

I take a moment to sort out my thoughts. “What did Father Derrik do to you, exactly?”

Dryas lets out a bark of laughter. “He killed someone I cared about.”

“Oh.” I gaze out across the ocean, unsure. “A woman you loved?”

There’s a moment’s hesitation before he answers, “Yes.”

“Oh.”

I can’t think of more to say. Luckily, he shades his eyes, looking at me. “Fuck. I didn’t think of sunblock. I don’t need it, but you obviously do.”

I feel the sun pressing down on me, but I don’t feel burned, per se. Then again, what do I know about it? I’ve spent my whole life indoors.

Dryas stands up. “I’m going to head in first, to give you a few moments of privacy. I’ll be waiting in the channel, there.”

He points to the private path that cuts down from the house. He takes off at a fast clip, splashing ashore magnificently in no time flat.

I have to admit, watching the strong muscles in his back and his chiseled buttocks emerge from the sea… He’s so fierce looking, his skin glowing like some kind of mythic sea god. I remind myself to take another mental picture, something to always treasure when I’m alone again.

I will always be alone again, I think.

As soon as he ducks into the channel, I rush up to the beach, flinging my dress back over my head. I shimmy it down onto my body. Then I spot my panties. Putting them back on would be wet and sandy… so I just ball them up and run into the pathway.

True to form, he’s standing there. His pants are back on, his shirt is casually thrown over his shoulder. His bare arms and chest are in a war with his abs over which draws my eyes the most. He looks down at me with mischief in his eyes but says nothing.

On impulse, I lean close to him, resting my head against his muscular chest. His hands come up to land on my back. Then after a few seconds, he tips my head up and presses his lips to mine.

Remembering the last time we kissed, with some chagrin, I stay more passive this time. He doesn’t press for more than a simple kiss, though.

Instead, he pulls back and his eyes are hot. “Just because I’m waiting until you come into your majority does not mean that I don’t want to fuck you.”

He catches my hand and brings it down to grasp his hardened cock through his jeans. I gasp and try to draw away, but he stares at me intently and pushes his cock against my hand.

He leans close to my ear and whispers. “I’ll have you at the stroke of midnight on your twenty-first birthday, and not a second before then. But don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten, not for a second.”

Then he releases me, heading up the path. I’m left staring at his retreating figure, my heart beating fast.