A moment during that Harley Holiday
One aspect of the Australian Outback that Virgil Tracy absolutely adored was that you could find yourself in places where there wasn’t another human being for miles.
The stilllness in the early morning just before the sun broke over the endless plain, the chill in the air with the only sound that of birds and trees. It was so peaceful.
A splash and a gurgle and his attention was drawn towards the billabong. Ripples spread out from the centre, circles interweaving in a complex pattern of disturbance.
A grey heron flew off with a mouthful.
A magpie warbled from a nearby eucalypt.
The environment was so different from Tracy Island, yet it shared a connection he couldn’t define.
Ah, there was the definition.
Kay sauntered past him wearing only pyjama shorts, her leather jacket for warmth and a pair of flip flops between her and the red earth.
He stared, watching as she casually walked over to the Harley, leant over slightly and began rummaging through what was left of the pack on the back of the bike.
His eyes drifted up her long legs, to the cotton of her shorts and the sweet curve of…god, where was his camera. His girl and his bike.
He leant over and fiddled with his own pack, grabbing his DSLR. Peering through the lens he came eye to green eye with his girl looking over her shoulder back at him. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a photo.”
She twisted a little further around, her black jacket parting a little more at the neck leaving an enticing V of olive skin open to the morning air. “And who gave you permission?”
A small smile on his face and he clicked the shutter release. “Do I need permission?”
An arched eyebrow as she turned towards him just a little further. “Oh, I think so.”
The shutter released again.
“Oh, so what exactly does one need to do to gain this permission?” He unfolded from the rock he was sitting on, rolling the muscles in his shoulders, camera in one hand. The cool air teased the skin of his bare chest as his own pyjama pants settled on his hips. He stretched his neck to one side, before dropping his gaze towards her and deliberately arching his own eyebrow and curling his lips with just the hint of a smirk.
She turned around fully, her elbows leaning back on the bike, causing her jacket to part in the middle entirely. A valley of olive ran right down to her belly button. “Oh, only very special people gain permission.” She smiled at him through her eyelashes.
Somehow the distance between them evaporated and he found himself right in front of her. Reaching out he ran a gentle finger from the base of her throat down between the subtle swell of her breasts, to her navel, trailing a circle around it before lodging it in the waistband of her nightwear. “How special?”
The magpie in the tree above them warbled some more as she reached up and cupped the long stubble of his new beard in one hand. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his. “Oh, so very, very special.” Her tongue traced his lips, her breath warm, and he just folded into her.
His arms caught on her jacket, pulling her close, his kiss urgent, and she came willingly.
The camera was left on the back of the bike.