Turn of the Tide | ONC 2023

[6] No Safe Port

    The air was still. The yacht slowly rocked left and right over the fine-cut waves that lapped against its hull. The last fangs of the chill melted away from the sea air to leave the boat's interior in peace. All the peace revealed, however, was the haste with which Sally's blood rushed around her body while she lay in Flick's embrace.

    Looking up at the girl's restful face, Sally could not tell whether Flick was still awake. Her breaths were long and slow, her heavy eyelids flitted now and then, and her soft rounded lips, even hotter and more welcoming for Sally's than she dreamed of, floated a fraction apart. Yet the hold Flick's arm maintained around Sally's lower back was too close for Sally to be sure, and it was definitely too thrilling for her to ever think of leaving. Here, with her fingers in Flick's soft hair, her legs threaded between her girl's firm calves and thighs, and her lips resting on Flick's neck was where Sally knew she belonged.

    Like the storm, however, the emerging sun signalled the parting of their clouds. Sally hooked a finger around the stray hairs across Flick's cheek and brushed them aside, leaving a kiss to warm the skin she exposed. Taking one last, long look at her girl's undressed body, her eyes landed on the locket that remained around Flick's neck, its gold casing catching each new beam of the growing sunlight. As she felt the pendant's weight in her grasp, Sally lifted it clear of Flick's body and placed a second, firmer kiss on her chest that crystallised the thoughts spiralling in her head. She was tired, dizzy, floating on air, and loving every second of it.

    Sally slid out from under Flick's hold and cast the towel around the girl, making sure to cover as much of her body against the air. She checked her clothes and groaned when they were still as damp as she feared, then set about dressing herself in the cold garments.

    "I didn't think you'd be the type to let a girl wake up alone." As Sally rolled her sticky t-shirt down her body, she spotted Flick smiling at her from the floor, the towel lazily draped over her lap. "Or the type to be into doing that kind of stuff. But once you get going, Sal...wow."

    "You're awful." Sally strolled over and lowered herself onto Flick's lap, looping her arms around her neck and diving into the girl's eyes again. "Flick, I...I loved that. It was amazing. You were amazing."

    Flick pulled Sally by her waist into a tight hug, a slight chuckle escaping her lungs. "Who says it has to be over already? I'm still amazing now, right?" she whispered as she trailed kisses down Sally's neck. At the sound of a sharp gasp stealing Sally's words, Flick smiled and looked up. "And you're still a total cutie, Sal."

    Every part of Sally yearned to kiss Flick back, to feel her touch on her skin again. It was only the scattered cries of gulls returning to the air overhead that broke her free of Flick's effortless enchantment. "Later, Flick," she sighed, giggling as Flick drew her nails along the back of her neck. Sally tore herself away from Flick's lap and headed straight for the corner of the interior, not looking back at the girl as she tossed her clothes over for fear of being lured back. "Get yourself dressed. I'll get us back to the bay before anybody comes asking questions."

    "Actually, you can keep these," Flick said, and before Sally could turn around, something soft struck the back of her head. Sally glanced to Flick, then at the floor, only to gasp as Flick's dark underwear sprawled over her feet. "Now you can get in my pants whenever you like. Thank me later, thirsty!"

    Sally groaned, yet could not help but smile. "You're awful," she repeated, picking up the undergarments and tucking them as best she could in her pocket. "Make sure you're wearing something by the time we dock, alright?"

    Throwing the towel aside, Flick winked as Sally climbed the steps. "Aye aye, captain!"

    The rope tie Sally had cast around the cove rock took her more effort than anticipated to undo, yet apart from the endless stream of seawater it gushed over the deck, it had not suffered a bit in the storm. Clods of earth coated the deck, streaks of dirt indicating which part of the cliffs above they had fallen from, but she did not spot any lasting damage from their impacts. She nodded in gratitude to the slick black rocks for their stalwart protection, then fired up the motor and set a course for the bay.