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The sun was beating down on the white sand, but Phryne stayed in the shade as much as she could. Her skin had already burned and peeled and freckled and tanned in ways she didn’t like to think about but still: there was no point in trying to make the situation worse.
And it could be a lot worse. Palm trees, the scent of exotic blooms, powder-fine white sand, turquoise blue water. And Jack, bare-chested, his smooth skin a deep golden brown and his hair falling in untamed, dark blonde curls, emerging from the trees with a mango in each hand.
Yes, two days of this certainly hadn’t been the worst thing that had ever happened to her.
Phryne licked her lips and propped herself up on her elbows as he approached, her eyes raking down his torso to the waistband of his canvas trousers, riding low on his hips with no suspenders to keep them up. She smirked at him when he got within a few feet of her.
“I see you have something sweet for me, Inspector.”
Jack sank down onto his knees next to her, giving her a smirk of his own. “Indeed Miss Fisher,” he said, putting down the fruit and reaching out a hand to rest against her flat stomach.
“I saw these,” he said, inching his hand upwards, “perfectly ripe, round, begging me to sink my teeth into them… and for some reason it reminded me of you.”
His hand skitted around the underside of her breast, not quite touching her where she ached for him, and then he reached passed her and p
ulled his pocket knife out of the leather bag next to Phryne. Phryne bit back a whine and narrowed her eyes at him as he started to cut one of the mangos in half.
Phryne sat up properly, though still resting back on her hands, bringing her face just inches away from Jack’s. She pushed out her chest - covered only by the fine silk slip she wore - and licked her lips again. Jack’s eyes dropped down to her chest and then flicked up to her lips, following the path of her tongue. He leant in, but just as Phryne’s eyes began to close in anticipation his hand came up and he took a big bite of the mango instead.
“Ummmm…” he moaned indecently - really, it was the only word for it. Phryne’s eyes flew open again, her teeth grinding with annoyance and her thighs pressing together in frustration. Juice was running down his chin and his hand, and his lips were shining with it. He chewed slowly, savouring the taste with his eyes closed, and Phryne watched as a bead of juice rolled slowly down his chin and along his jawline.
He swallowed and opened his eyes, smirking at Phryne. "Delicious," he murmured.
Phryne growled and closed the distance between them, grasping his warm shoulders with her hands and closing her mouth over his jaw, sliding her tongue over his stubble to lap up the sweet, sticky juices.
Phryne felt the rumble of Jack’s laughter under her hands and her mouth, and grinned against his skin. She gasped a moment later as she felt something warm and wet slide down the side of her neck - Jack followed a moment later, dipping his head to her clavicle and following the trail of the mango juice with his tongue. Phryne delved her hand into Jack’s hair, holding him tight against her as he started to suck gently on the base of her neck.
“Umm, Jack…” Phryne sighed, shifting back as Jack started to lean over her. His hand slid up her side, under her slip this time, and her hand tightened in his hair. Jack pushed her gently, urging her under him, and the sea and sky swam together as her eyes began to drift closed.
Phryne's eyes flew open again.
“Jack.”
Jack lifted his head and went in to kiss her lips, but Phryne caught his face in her hands.
“Jack,” she repeated softly, before nodding to the water. “Is that a ship on the horizon?”
Jack’s head whipped round and there were a few moments of silence as the two of them contemplated the sight in front of them - what was clearly a ship, a rather large one by the look of it, seemingly heading straight for their island.
Jack shook his head and looked back at Phryne. “Damn.”
Phryne smiled ruefully. “To be continued?”
He sighed and heaved himself to his feet, holding out his hands to help Phryne up as well. Once she was on her feet she darted forward to peck him on the lips - he tasted of mango - and then, reluctantly, stepped back.
“Come on, we’d better get back to the plane.”
They collected their things - clothes they had been lying on, a thin sheet, two books and Jack’s leather bag, and walked hand in hand through the trees to the long strip of cleared land in the middle of the island, back to Phryne’s plane. Once there they stowed their things and dressed in their flying gear, soon sweltering in the multiple layers designed for the air and not for tropical islands. Phryne buckled her helmet under her chin and gave the island one more sweeping look.
Jack had his helmet on as well, and was looking back towards the beach with regret and disappointment written all over his face.
Phryne reached out and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry darling,” she said, “if memory serves there are many more deserted islands between our next two fuel stops.”
Jack smiled and tugged on their joined hands, pulling her up against him. Phryne went willingly, curling her fist into the lapel of his flying jacket and smiling into his kiss. It had been a magical two days, truly just the two of them, but as tempting as it was to live off mangos and Jack for the rest of her life, they both had lives to be getting back to.
Still, as she'd said, that didn’t mean there couldn’t be other islands along the way...