WHEN THE TIDE TURNS

chest, right over his heart

ith restraint and something unspoken. The wind lifted a strand of her

ed on her skin. Sh

he said softly, as

. "But you're not

lips parting, and le

lly-he ki

uage for the first time. His mouth found hers, war

ed even her, like something had been waiting-coile

oser. Their bodies aligned, chest to chest, breath to breath. His stubbl

air, she didn't step

with me,"

e silence wrapped aro

ff her shawl and stood at the easel, staring at the half-finished sketch

s always you,"

waist, warm through the fabric of her dress.

d, "feeling like I'm coming

he murmured, "some people

der his shirt, fingers tracing the muscles of his back. She loved the way he b

e straps slid down slowly, grazing her skin, as though he were m

g a path from neck to che

, but artistically. Her nerves lit up like brush stro

r. He kissed every inch like it mattered, like she wasn't a myste

e liked how he tensed slightly as she unbuttoned his shirt.

hen intensely. There was nothing hurried. No performance. Just

cotton blanket. The sea murmured outsi

es on Marc's chest, her f

as it been?

answer r

n't want to feel anything for a lo

either," she said. "I t

id. "And you're

er into his side. "I wan

ckled.

n eyebrow. "

"I'll pose for you. But only if you le

ea

and greens and ochres that pulsed like blood. A storm in a

and. She was barefoot, hair still tousle

fferent no

rush still in

aid of the whit

t's because you saw me

beside her. She grabbed his hand and smudged

hed, su

part of it

ng her face in his h