Campaign for Love

by Annabelle Stevens

  "It's just the idea, that's all. I mean, I can just imagine them being pirated."

  "I wouldn't mind a copy myself," he said, grinning broadly.

  "It's not funny."

  "No, I know it isn't."

  He picked up a pad and pen and then rewound the tape. "I'm going to make sure we get rid of anything even remotely too sexy."

  They watched both days' shots twice, and Quentin made notes on the things he thought should be censored. When they had seen enough, they turned off the set and put the tapes away.

  They decided to have one last drink before bed time. They chatted away quietly about their plans for the following day, and then he walked her to the guest house, where Helene's light was still burning.

  Quentin gave her a quick hug, despite her trying to move into his arms for something more romantic, and started back to the main house.

  Suzanna sighed and headed straight for her bathroom, where she took a long, relaxing soak in a warm tub to put her in the mood to sleep.

  It wasn't working. Suzanna had to admit to herself that watching Quentin watching her on the tapes had been unbelievably titillating. She was too aroused to sleep. The glass doors to the outside were open, and the fragrant breeze was tempting.

  She could see the moonlight reflected on the rippling water and thought that a walk on the beach and perhaps a swim might take away all of her pent-up tension. She took a towel and beach blanket off a shelf in the bathroom, turned out the lights, and started out the side windows down to the shimmering sand.

  She walked to a point beyond a stand of trees and shrubbery away from the houses to ensure her privacy. She knew there wasn't much risk of anyone seeing her anyway, since most of their party was on the main island.

  In the shelter of the trees, she spread the beach blanket and sat to watch the water lap up on the shore. After rolling over on her stomach with her head propped on her elbows, she waited for drowsiness to overcome her, but sleep remained elusive. All she could think of was Quentin.

  On an impulse, she decided that her original idea of a swim was a good one. Maybe a brisk sprint to the raft and back would tire her. She jumped to her feet and, in a repetition of Friday night's gesture, allowed her gown to slip down to her feet.

  As she waded in, she had a moment's worry about whether there were any sharks around at night. She got her answer a moment later, when her waist was enclosed by a pair of large hands, while a warm body pressed firmly against her from behind, and a familiar voice murmured in her ear, "Got you!"

  "Quentin, you idiot," Suzy laughed happily. "You scared the life out of me."

  "I don't know about that. You feel pretty lively to me."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Right now, I'm holding the sexiest, most voluptuous woman I've ever seen."

  Pressed up against, her, he had no chance to hide his desire, and she gasped as he caressed her belly with one hand and her thigh with the other.

  She went weak, and reached behind to caress his face and the back of his neck. His hands now moved downwards to the soft mound between her thighs, and Suzanna was undone.

  She floated upwards and turned around to face him full on. Mouth to open mouth, their tongues coupled wildly, until they both knew kissing was no longer enough. Cupping her tightly against his throbbing body, he carried her effortlessly over to the blanket under the trees, where he laid her down and began to caress her all over with his hard, strong hands.

  She watched him in the moonlight, gloried in the sight of his bare body. She knew he would be amazing, but this was beyond what she had imagined. The light down of hair on his chest tapered to a thin line toward his navel before fanning out once more to frame his magnificent maleness. She worked up the courage to touch him, and felt a surge of triumph at her own power to thrill him as he was doing her.

  She started with his chest, trailing down the light line of hair until her fingers wrapped lightly around him. Quentin gave a shuddering groan and pulled her to him.

  "For two days I've watched you in various stages of undress. I've wanted to be the one touching you, adjusting your clothes, doing all those personal things. What's wrong with me?"

  She giggled. "Not a thing. I'd have hated it if you didn't feel that way. When we swam to the float yesterday, I wanted to rip off your trunks and see you naked. I wanted to hold it against me and never let go."

  "Then you won't have to. You were right, I know that know. All the way back at the beginning. We belong together."

  He kissed her deeply, then, and delicately began to stretch her and caress her until he was sure she was ready for him. He delicately sucked and nibbled her tongue, and then her bare flesh, going lower and lower, taking his time as though he was savoring every inch of her.

  Finally, when she thought she had experienced every delight he had to offer, he moved between her thighs. She opened to him fully, holding nothing back. He kissed her almost worshipfully as he gave one sure thrust, and plunged into the depths of her warm and welcoming body.

  "Oh, God, Suzanna, my love!" he rasped.

  She clung to him fiercely as the sensations flooded through her, setting her on fire. The harder and faster he moved, the more her world fragmented. She thrust her hips upwards instinctively, until his body was in control and demanding its ultimate release.

  As they brought one another to climax, Quentin smothered her cries of fulfillment with his mouth, until at last, an eternity later, they stilled, and lay silent for a moment, completely thunderstruck.

  At last, when he was able to speak, he murmured, "You might have been the virgin here, my love, but I've never experienced anything like that before."

  "It was amazing," she breathed, cradling him against her. "I mean, I read about it in the books and magazines, but nothing could have prepared me for that."

  "I'm glad. I'd have hated to let you down."

  She kissed him tenderly. "The only time you let me down was when you fought this incredible attraction between us."

  "There's no fool like an old fool. I should have known you were special. I was just scared, I guess."

  "Nothing to be scared of. It's all worked out in the end, hasn't it? I love you."

  He held her close, stroking his hand down her belly. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, my dear, but believe me, I'm going to do my best to make you happy."

  "You do. Don't sound so worried."

  "It's just that, well, the beach, I mean, I could at least have had enough control to take you to a nice comfortable bed. Oh Lord, or used a condom."

  "No, this was perfect, you silly man. And I trust you. And started taking the pill not long after we met."

  His eyes widened. "Wow, you're more practical than I gave you credit for. With everything personal we talked about, that never even popped into my head."

  She giggled. "Don't get me wrong, I do want kids, just not for a while time. Not until I get to have some fun with a man who's eager to share the best things in life with me."

  He indicated the beach with a sweep of his hand. "Adam and Eve in paradise."

  "For sure, minus the fig leaves."

  She sat up, and grimaced slightly.

  "What's wrong, pet, did I hurt you?"

  She glanced up at him in surprise, then realized what he meant and shook her head quickly.

  "No, not at all, darling. I suppose everyone must have a fantasy of making love on a moonlit beach, and now we've done it. But there's a lot of sand, that's for sure." She rose from the blanket and began to dust her derriere. "We ought to get inside and make ourselves more comfortable before we start all over again."

  He laughed throatily. "Listen to the brazenness of the woman! I haven't recovered from the first time yet, and she wants an encore."

  Her eyes flashed fire then. "Of course. You don't think you can show me the joys of your body and then expect me to go sleep alone in my room."

  Quentin rose to his feet and handed her her night-dress, which she quickly donned
. She saw Quentin wrap himself in her towel, then pick up the blanket.

  "Where are your clothes?"

  "I wasn't wearing any, which was another reason I didn't announce my presence."

  "Streaker!" she teased.

  "Just hoping you'd be out here. Well, not hoping. I saw you from the window."

  "And if I hadn't come out of my room?"

  "I would have tapped on your door," he admitted, before kissing her on the brow.

  "So much for your stiff and formal goodnight."

  "Honey, if I were any more stiff, they could use me to hammer nails," he joked.

  "Oh, Quentin." She slapped his rump now, as much to berate him as to get some of the sand off his rear as well.

  They walked up the beach hand in hand, floating with bliss. They arrived back at her room safely without anyone running into them.

  She closed all the drapes before turning on a light. When the lamp came on, they turned to one another and gazed their fill in awed wonderment. Details undetected in the soft moonlight now came clear. They touched, teased, explored, kissed, tasted...

  Suzanna had Quentin turn around so she could see him from all angles, after which they took a prone position on the rug in front of the window on the tiled floor while she continued to satisfy her curiosity.

  This was a brand new experience for Quentin also. No one had ever been that interested in all the parts of his body the way she seemed to be. He found himself almost embarrassed as she fondled him boldly and avidly watched his surging response.

  "You know, Suzanna, a lot of little boys missed out on a good thing. You'd have played a great game of 'doctor.'"

  "Yes, but if I had, just look at what you'd be missing now. You'd have nothing new to show me. I hope I'm not embarrassing you. I don't seem to have any shame left."

  But her uninhibited exploring brought ample results, and now they needed to be practical once more.

  "Great though this rug is, let's have a warm shower to get rid of the rest of the salt and sand, and then get into bed," she suggested.

  It proved a wonderful idea. They spread the thick soap suds on each other and teased and caressed until they were both more than eager for more.

  They dried each other off with long, languorous strokes, and then he carried her to the bed.

  Although inexperienced, this time Suzanna took the initiative. She had learned a lot already that night. She had also learned from some movies she had watched. Though they had disgusted her at the time, she now found herself trying to remember the sorts of things men supposedly enjoyed.

  Accordingly, her little pink tongue darted everywhere, on his lips, in his mouth, along his lashes, behind, then inside, his ears. Quentin was on his back, eyes closed, lips parted as his tongue flicked out and moistened them. A deep, almost purring sound, issued from his throat. She could feel his arousal swelling against her leg.

  She started tracing a line of kisses with tongue and lips down his body as he had done to her. She even sucked at his flat nipples and was surprised to feel him writhe as she had.

  She was delighted to hear his moans of pleasure as she reached down to circle his navel with a moist, pointed tongue. She did not get a chance to go any lower, for with one powerful motion he flipped her on her back against the pillows.

  "Suzanna, enough, my darling. I need to feel myself inside you."

  She responded with wild abandon, for she was more than ready. Reaching down, she guided him to the gateway to paradise for another exquisite act of love.

  This time he didn't hold back. He was sure now that her desire was equal to his own. He played her as a virtuoso plays a Stradivarius, lovingly, tenderly, sometimes savagely. He extracted the ultimate in pleasure with every stroke. They climbed the peaks of fulfillment and sank blissfully into the valley of satisfied desire.

  They remained locked in one another's embrace whispering endearments and affirmations of love until Quentin, remembering that Suzanna had a heavy shooting schedule the next day-that day, said, "It's three A.M."

  "It's still early," she murmured.

  "It's late. I'm going to leave you now, my darling. I would stay all night and make love to you again and again, but it wouldn't be fair to you. I don't want you to start hurting."

  "Loving you could never hurt."

  "All the same, if your breasts keep doing that we're never going to be able to keep you decent at the shoot."

  She giggled. "I think that might have something to do with your hands."

  "It is going to be pretty hard to keep my hands off you today."

  "Then don't try."

  He groaned. "I have to, for the sake of the shoot."

  Their bare bodies clasped together one more time as they exchanged a passionate kiss. Then he slipped out the door clad in nothing but her towel, and like a shadow, he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  At breakfast in the morning, Candy took a look at Suzanna, then at Quentin and said, "You two certainly look happy this morning. You must have had a really good night's sleep."

  "Yes and no," answered Suzy. "I didn't sleep at all for the first few hours, but when I finally slept, it was the best I've ever had."

  "Like everything else," said Quentin, struggling to keep a straight face, "it's the quality, not the quantity that counts."

  Suzy, who was seated next to him at an otherwise empty table, slid her hand along his thigh perilously close to his groin, and gave a playful squeeze.

  "Why thank you, Suzanna," he said as he returned the compliment.

  They smiled happily at one another just as Candy turned from the coffee urn on the serving table. She asked, "What's so funny?"

  "Nothing," answered Suzanna. "It's a private joke."

  With that, Quentin cracked up, Suzy followed suit, and Candy joined in the merriment without quite knowing why.

  The rest of the crew was just filing in to the breakfast buffet and felt the contagious joy. It set the tone for the whole day, which was to be their last in paradise.

  Max and the others had decided to go jogging before breakfast, and for that reason had arrived a bit late. Bruce's opening remark caused Suzy and Quentin to exchange guilty glances.

  "Either this island isn't as uninhabited as we thought, or a couple of people had themselves a swim last night."

  "Yeah," said Max. "We saw two sets of footprints, going in and coming out of the water."

  "That's right," said Joe. "They weren't there yesterday."

  "Okay," said Suzy. "It looks as if we've been caught barefooted. I went for a swim, and I hadn't been in long when Quentin arrived. He couldn't sleep either. We swam together."

  "So that's what the joke was all about," said Candy. "There seems to be a lot of that going around."

  They all gave knowing looks, but everyone seemed to approve. In a romantic spot like this who could blame them for love being in the air?

  "Sheeesh!" said Quentin, grinning back at them all. "Next time we'll do like in the movies and use a branch to sweep away our tracks."

  Breakfast over, Candy asked Quentin if he had anything special lined up for the last day's campaign shots.

  "Since Suzy is wearing no make-up as usual, we'll do the 'before' stills and video in her nurse's outfit. After that, we'll do a whole series of not just before and after, but of all steps along the way. That could be the last series in the campaign- a sort of, 'If she can do it, you can do it too.' How does that sound?"

  "Great!" said Joe enthusiastically. "For videotaping, it's fantastic. Quentin, can you write up a quick commentary with all the right product buzzwords? Some catchy slogans, phrases, you know. There's a built-in mike for voice-over. Candy can read the commentary as Bruce does the make-up.

  "The last stage can be redoing her hair, after which Suzy steps behind a screen and emerges in a gorgeous, figure-hugging, cocktail dress. The voice-over can say something like, 'Voila, Nice Nurse becomes Femme Fatale.'"

  "Terrific. Let's go for it."

  Th
ere was no time to waste, so they all hopped to it. This was the last day of shooting. The launch would pick them up at five, they'd be in Freeport by five-thirty, and would be on a flight heading back to New York by seven.

  Thanks to the video-tape monitor, they scanned the beach and the interior of the house, checked the lighting, and knew immediately what they had was good and all got to it straightaway.

  Suzanna emerged from the guest house looking like an efficient angel of mercy. After they shot her looking at a thermometer and checking a few charts, Bruce once more worked his magic. Femme Fatale emerged, and stunned them all once again.