He’d made her feel so tiny and helpless as he’d lifted her up onto the horse that night. The gleaming chestnut stallion was as unclothed as she was, and the sensation of the powerful animal between her naked thighs had made her dizzy with lust. She’d buried her hands in the long mane and squeezed her legs together as Xavier swung up onto his own mount and led them in a long graceful canter along the moonlit beach. The rhythm of the gait had been relentless, stimulating her almost past endurance. She didn’t even bother trying to control the horse; she just let it take her where Xavier led. Within minutes, she was breathing hard, clutching the stallion’s mane as pleasure surged through her, battering her like waves until the sensations took her over completely and she cried out, surrendering to a devastating climax.
She’d barely been able to clamber down off the horse. Even on the sand her legs refused to work. Xavier had laid her down in the surf then and fucked her hard while the water lapped at their toes. She came four times that night.
Nancy’s body tingled in response to the memory. It had been the best holiday of her life and the best fling of her life. She’d returned home refreshed and glowing, with no desire at all to get smashed and listen to endless break-up songs or wallow in the misery of a broken heart the way most people did after a painful split. The loss was David’s. Or Simon’s. Or whatever the hell his name had been. Xavier had been the perfect cure. One week of guilt-free mutual exploitation and a kind of sexual freedom she hadn’t known since – well, since ever.
And that was where she’d left it. It had been an uneventful few months, with only a single one-night stand since Xavier. Nothing to write home about.
From somewhere overhead came the warning cry of a bird and the zebra glanced up, nostrils quivering as he scented the air. Nancy zoomed out to catch him in his posture of attentiveness. And that’s when she saw it. A tawny shape in the distance, hiding in the long grass.
Nancy froze, her heart pounding. The air seemed just as frozen and the silence gathered like a storm. For several seconds she held her breath, paralysed with fear and not knowing what to do. Even at the camera’s full zoom, all she could make out was a blur of pale brown. It was just the right shade for the kind of animal she absolutely didn’t want to be trapped with.
Then the zebra snorted and pawed the ground, returning to his grazing as he dismissed the idea of a threat. It took another few seconds for the penny to drop and then Nancy almost burst out laughing. She’d been so lost in the moment she’d quite forgotten where she was. She wasn’t in the Serengeti. She was in an open-air zoo in England, where the only lions were safely inside their own paddock and neither she nor the zebras had anything to fear from them.
‘Oh, you silly woman,’ she said to herself, and chuckled.
But now her curiosity was piqued. She crept forward on her knees, drawing a little closer to the zebra. He glanced her way once or twice, but seemed satisfied that she was nothing to worry about. She was certainly no predator. When she’d covered half the distance between them, she raised the camera again. Now she could see the ‘lion’ clearly. And what she saw made her smile as she pressed the shutter release.
A man was crouching in the grass opposite, pointing his own camera at the zebra. His face was obscured by the long telephoto lens, but she could see that his bare arms were appealingly muscled. Nancy took a few more shots of the leonine hunter, panning down over his legs and body. He was clearly someone who kept in shape.
‘Come on,’ she whispered, ‘let’s see your face.’
He couldn’t possibly have heard her, but a few moments later he lowered his camera. Nancy quickly snapped a picture and looked at it on the display screen. And liked what she saw. He was leading-man handsome: strong jaw, keen eyes, sculpted cheekbones. He had the rugged physique of a superhero, with all the sly bearing of a supervillain. Although the only thing he was stalking was zebras, there was nonetheless something roguish in his manner as he crept closer.
He raised the camera again and Nancy watched him through her own, thanking Nikon all the while for making such great lenses. She could see every detail of her fellow shooter. His hands looked strong and sure as they gripped the camera, steady enough to zoom in close without needing a tripod. She also smiled to note that there was no wedding ring.
Nancy saw the lens retract as he zoomed out, widening the frame. Then he stopped. He raised his head for a moment, then lowered it back to the camera. And angled it right towards her.
A little rush of delight ran down her spine and she hurriedly hid behind her own camera, watching him watching her. At first all she could see was the convex curve of his lens and a distorted reflection of colours. His right index finger gently pressed the shutter button and she swallowed hard, feeling exposed, captured. Behind the camera he was smiling. Clearly, he liked what he was seeing every bit as much as she did.
She wasn’t sure what she was going to do until she did it. She set the camera down and made a big show of stretching, as though waking up from a nap. Kneeling in the grass, she began slowing unbuttoning her shirt. As she did, she fancied she could hear the rapid click of her watcher’s camera as he snapped away. She stilled the tremor in her fingers as she fumbled with the buttons, finally exposing the tight khaki tank top she wore beneath in lieu of a bra. Although the air was warm, her nipples stiffened, standing out like pebbles through the thin fabric. She blushed a little and smiled to herself as she picked up her camera again and focused it on the man.
He hesitated only a moment before lowering his camera. His eyes shone with mischief and his sensual mouth curled in a smile to match hers. God, he was gorgeous! He copied her movements, unfastening his shirt, one slow button at a time, teasing her. Only he was bare-chested beneath his. Her breath caught at the sight of his lean, sculpted torso and she almost forgot to take pictures.
Her heart began to race as he raised the camera again. No signal was needed, no gesture. It was her turn now.
Nancy reminded herself that she wasn’t a vague shape behind a window shade or a distant figure on a stage. She was as vivid and detailed through the powerful zoom lens as if she were standing right in front of him. With that in mind, she banished any self-consciousness and arranged her features into a sultry, come-hither look. Then she unfastened her shorts and drew them slowly down her long, toned legs. She’d worn her favourite black knickers, the ones with the scalloped lacy edge that framed her bottom so appealingly, and she hoped he was pleased with the effect.
She half-stood as she stepped out of her shorts. Seeing the movement, the zebra looked her way for a moment before dipping his head again. She giggled. The poor, innocent creature had no idea what the rude humans around him were getting up to. Just as the barebacked horse in Mexico would never know how he had contributed to her best holiday ever.
When she looked through the camera again, her companion put his hands together in silent applause at her little performance. Then, with slow deliberation, he kicked off his shoes. He stood there for a few moments, leaving her to wonder if that was all he was going to do, or if he would continue. Then he smiled and began to unbuckle his belt. Her heart raced. He unzipped his trousers next, casting the occasional glance in her direction. He slid them down and she clicked away at the slow reveal of his well-muscled thighs and runner’s calves. He looked like he spent a lot of time in the sun and it wasn’t hard to imagine him lounging on a beach with her or emerging James Bond-like from the waves.
But, while his legs were gorgeous, it was what was above them that Nancy was most interested in. He was in black as well, something designer and fitted that showed off the growing bulge. She felt herself grow damp and she pressed her legs together.
It was her turn again. And this time there were no more layers. She remained on her knees and swallowed hard as she took hold of the hem of her tank top and gradually pulled it up, treating him to a slow reveal of her slim waist, her ribcage, and finally her bare breasts. She kept her arms overhead for a moment,