(that’s right. 1999)“Oh god Belinda!” Marcela said. Then I felt a brush of wind at my foot accompanied by the sound of cloth hitting the deck. �...�I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Marcela had dropped her towel! She was standing right in front of me wearing only her panties and I couldn’t see anything but a muddy silhouette. I wanted to tear the sunglasses off and take in her stunning body so badly that I almost had to sit on my hands. The music was smooth and all of my senses seemed strangely. Remember.” A teasing reminder in a voice so deep and seductive it made women swoon. He has caught both my wrists in one of his hands above my head. He knows me well. And so do I him. I bow my back, let my breasts stroke along his skin, startling a moan from him. I love that sound. He captures my laughter with his mouth, his tongue, his breath; laughter has always been part of our interludes. For a moment we just rest there, brows touching, sharing our breath and smiles. Wordless. There is no. More

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