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"Kyle," she repeated. It wasn't what he had said exactly, of course. It was what her vocal cords could manage. When he pronounced it, it came out with elongated syllables, more like Chaiyeille. She had apparently done well enough, however, for he nodded, thrilling her again with his understanding.

  His gaze shifted over her shoulder and she turned to look with him, jumping a little in reflex.

  Another one sat on the rock behind her. Larger than his companion, his shoulders were a handspan wider. His muscles bunched in the crooked angle of his arm with his hand braced on the glistening slope of scales where a thigh would be. His eyes were the same silver metal color, but his hair was fire and ice, red darkened by water, with streaks of silver through it. The gray-blue tattoo pattern on his cheekbones ran from the corners of his eyes, curving to the right side of his neck. It marked him like a sash along his pectorals, his rib cage, and disappeared around back to reappear and triangle his groin as it did the other merman. Also like the other merman, he was aroused. Aroused in spades. Annie swallowed.

  Dolphins were equipped with impressive genitalia, something that might scare the average human woman. For all the talk about size, Annie knew the obsession with it for most women had to do with the bat theory. If you got a big enough bat, anybody could hit the bloody ball. It made up for a lot of ineptitude, bumbling and sheer incomprehension of the female body and response system. If men focused on doing it right with the five to six inches most of them had, size would not be an issue at all. All that said, the message her eyes sent to her brain compelled that complex organ to shoot an immediate and urgent fax to her womb, setting off pulse points.

  His gaze noted the direction of hers, and her reaction needed no translation, as did the amused sparkle of his eyes in response.

  “Garnet,” Kyle said. His fingers trailed down her spine. Turning back, she found he had moved closer, and so she was turning into the shelter of his braced arm and chest, her cheek brushing his jaw line as she raised her eyes to meet his. He seemed younger than the other man, which she assumed made sense; a lot of fish seemed to reflect their age in size. Kyle seemed equal in height to a six-foot man, with a lean build like a swimmer, the irony of that comparison not lost on her. Garnet would have made a good blocker for a professional football team. Perhaps it was the dark-haired one's youth that made him seem more approachable.

  "Should I be afraid?" she asked.

  She was not really frightened as much as amazed, but there was the need to establish some bond, some sense of mutual understanding to settle the faint, distracting disquiet. An unease that a lifetime of Jekyll and Hyde sci-fi theme movies had implanted, from a civilization that was so far away at the moment as to seem just a faint disturbance to her soul.

  In answer, his mouth opened, and those soothing tones came forth again. It was then she saw the movement of the gills along the throat, just below the ear on either side, covered by the sleek fall of dark hair. The mermen obviously had lungs for breathing oxygen, but were equipped to breathe underwater as well.

  Their long, sleek locks and their eyebrows were the only body hair they appeared to have. That and eyelashes, like the long dark lashes of Kyle’s that fanned his cheekbones as he focused so intently on her lips.

  She didn't jump this time when she felt the touch of the flame-haired merman. Garnet's massive hands set themselves upon her waist, and a shiver rippled across her skin at the restrained power she felt in their easy grasp. An independent woman she was, but one who could still appreciate the implied protection in a man's strength.

  Kyle bent and pressed wet, warm lips upon hers. She sat quietly for a moment, just receiving and experiencing the way those unfamiliar lips felt, the flick of tongue on the soft seam. Her lips parted and her arms began to rise, only to be arrested in mid-motion by the shift of Garnet's grasp to her upper arms, that superior strength now keeping her still. His touch was as careful as she might be with an infant, but it rendered her just as helpless.

  A trickle of fear managed to insert its cold touch as he eased her off her feet, onto her backside, then leaned her back, so her knees straightened, her feet trailing in the water, the line of her thigh parallel to Kyle’s. The disquiet was little more than a drop of rain in a simmering cauldron, however. Her cauldron was liquefying like candlewax as clever lips coaxed hers further apart, and an even more clever tongue probed her mouth, the tip exploring the slick inside wall of her cheek, the enamel of her teeth, dueling with her own tongue and playing along the top of it, holding it down as Kyle’s kiss became more demanding, thrusting into the hot cavern of her mouth with an unmistakable comparable intent.

  Kyle’s hands slid up her rib cage and Annie moaned as Garnet’s mouth closed over the artery in her neck, sucking the taste of mountain water from her skin.

  Without the use of her arms, the ability to be proactive, she was at their mercy, a sensation that had been an aphrodisiac since the first creature had mounted another for their mutual pleasure.

  Annie's head fell back onto Garnet's shoulder, and she made another soft noise as Kyle's hands cupped her breasts, lifted them, his long fingers stroking their tops. He did nothing to the nipples, single light strokes of her curves only as his mouth continued to tease her tongue and her mind into mindless sensory response.

  Her fingers were able to reach a section of his glistening tail, and they splayed out and landed, light as a butterfly's feet, on the silken surface. He froze, his eyes opening only an inch from hers, as she stroked across the limited reach given her. Catching her short nails gently beneath the soft edge of the tiny overlapping scales and releasing them to smooth them down again.

  Garnet's touch left her right arm, giving her more freedom, and she sensed his fascinated attention, a mirror of Kyle's, as she ran her knuckles along the magnificent line of what felt like one long, quivering muscle.

  Had they held her because they thought they would have to persuade her, seduce her a bit before they could be sure she wouldn't run? Or maybe they thought if, in her passion, she touched the unfamiliar parts of them, it might make her recoil. Annie traced the silver up to the curve of Kyle’s hip, rested her palm on the place where human anatomy and water creature met, and looked up at him. Stretching out the range of her arm, she settled back against Garnet's chest.

  Perhaps it was the shifting angle of the sun that made Kyle’s eyes appear to glow more intensely at her response, but he bent forward, those heat-filled eyes on hers until the last moment before his lids dropped and he closed his lips over her nipple and the areola encircling it, trying to pull as much of her into his mouth as he could. She arched, crying out, and Garnet had her arms again, this time to help increase the angle of her body to give Kyle’s hands even more to hold, as they came up under his working jaw to cup the quivering breasts. His tongue flicked, lashing her nipple inside that hot mouth, and she moaned as his fingers simultaneously pinched the other nipple, a slow increase of pressure in the hold of index finger and thumb, and then a tortuous, gradual roll.

  Annie writhed, her breath coming fast. In his leaning position, his erection lay on her belly, just above her spread thighs. When he drew back from her, the broad head of his cock slid down the channel of her swollen clitoris, making her buck in spasms of sensational reaction. Her hips arched, seeking him. Garnet's arms curled around her waist, and suddenly the world turned upside down.

  They flipped off the rock in a motion of grace and speed no human ever got to experience without mechanical help, but she did, locked in the arms of a merman to whom she was no hindrance.

  The water rushed across her cheeks and lips and they were underwater. She remembered the stories of water sprites dragging sailors happily to their deaths, seduced by their beauty.

  A woman who comfortably camped alone did not let herself get mired in the fears that lived in the underbelly of the Great Subconscious. She pushed the thought away and instead focused on how it felt to be as boneless as flowing seaweed in the arms of the merman and experience movement through
the water as a fish would. Effortless propulsion. It was too much of a glide to be compared to the ease of walking; it was like flying. She had done hang gliding and skydiving, and this was closer to that, but even that did not do it justice. This was magic, on many different levels, and magic could not be compared to anything manmade.

  They brought her up behind the waterfall. There was an expanse of flat rock there, worn smooth by falling water. The main body of the fall created a roar of sound as it rushed through the air to plunge into the depths of the pool, harmonizing with the quieter songs made by smaller flows of water, coming through cracks in the rock and earth in the cavern that formed the wall of the cliff for the fall. These smaller falls of water she supposed were what kept the network of flat rocks behind the waterfall smooth and algae free, glistening only with the moisture reflecting off their polished rounded surfaces. When Garnet sat her down on one of the largest rocks, she discovered, to her delight, the water coming through the cracks was warm, heated by their passage through the earth. It splashed on her skin, rolled down her breasts, gathered along the line of her thighs and formed a triangular pond between them and her pulsing folds.

  The black-haired merman was before her again. As much as both mermen fascinated her, it was something about Kyle’s eyes that made her feel no fear, only a desire to stay close to him. It was a strong feeling, exceptional, and she wondered if he had some form of unique magnetism, a scent of pheromones or some other scientific basis for her instant attraction to him. If vampires could have it, there was no reason mermen couldn't, since prior to a few moments ago, she'd had no knowledge of either's existence. Anything seemed possible.

  The roar of the water echoed off the rock, so speech would not be possible without shouting. Annie had no desire to let reality intrude so audibly anyway.

  His finger reached out, followed the line of her cheek, trailing water along the skin, again emphasizing his fascination with her face, her mouth. Women had the ability to feel their own bodies through the touch of another and Annie was keenly aware of the benefit of that. She felt the softness of her skin by the light pressure of his wet fingertip along her jaw line. Moisture rolled down his palm, pattered onto her collarbone. His touch moved to her lips and yet she kept her eyes on his silver ones. He was amazed by her. She saw it in his eyes, and then she lost a breath when the Garnet’s hands slipped forward from behind and cupped her breasts, one in each palm, as if he held the soft breasts of tame doves. He lifted them, as if displaying them to Kyle.

  The press of his body behind hers and the capture and lift of her breasts compelled her to arch and lean back against Garnet’s support. She felt displayed like an object, in a sense, her ability to move hampered by their strength, their hold, but it was like she was an object of reverence, the way they handled her. Garnet’s thumbs flicked across her cold nipples and they stiffened further, as if she had been touched by fire in truth. Her fingers curled into balls at her thighs, even as her legs loosened, unconsciously communicating her surrender.

  She was not easy. She didn't fall into every man's lap that came along, merman or no. But those silver eyes, they begged, cried out to her. Kyle wanted to ravish, to take. He wanted her to open, to give. It was naked in his face, no artifice, no smooth veneer of civilization painting layers upon him. Like any wild animal, he was as she saw him, mysterious for the sensory powers he had that she did not, but no emotional façade.

  His eyes studied her breasts as Garnet squeezed them, lifted them higher, flicked the nipples again. Annie moaned, and the silver gaze shot to her face, Kyle’s fingers brushing the tongue that briefly slipped out to wet her lips.

  He slid forward, so his hip was aligned with her knee, which shifted her legs back together. He did not encroach on his companion's territory. Instead, his hand reached out and alighted on her thigh.

  Garnet was fully pressed against her back now, the silver-scaled hip pressing against her tense right buttock. His head was next to hers, just above her shoulder blade as he watched Kyle and the intriguing movement of his own large hands. The fair skin of her breasts flushed with pleasure beneath his skillful manipulation.

  Kyle’s finger slid down the seam of her thighs, from mid-thigh down to her knees, and then back up, parting the collected canal of warm water gathered there in the triangle. He stopped mid-way and his gaze rose back to her face. Annie felt the pressure of his fingers, and his expression was easy enough to read, virile and hungry. It was more overpowering than words, this use of touch and expression to express desire.

  She swallowed. Though she felt sure this was a sexual situation she wanted to embrace, she needed reassurance. Another kiss might help.

  But when she tried to move forward toward Kyle’s face, Garnet tightened his grip. She drew in a breath as the pinch on her nipples crossed a small step past pleasure into pain, where of course they blended into a ripple of reaction in her womb.

  Kyle brought his other hand to her thighs and pressed his knuckles from the back of one hand against another, forming a human prying tool he used with gentle insistence, burrowing down in between the soft flesh of her thighs. He moved slowly, not because the long muscles in his arms were outmatched by her clamped position, but more, it seemed, not to alarm her. Yet his insistence indicated he was not going to be refused what he desired. With a mix of terror and excitement, she realized there was little "no means no" in Nature, unless you could back it up with superior strength or the ability to escape. She had neither at the moment. Dominance was the guiding force that won respect and obedience. It could be brutal, but he was not. Just insistent that she capitulate. Civilization was far away and her body knew it, responding not with fear or disgust, but willing capitulation.

  He had her trembling thighs parted now, about a foot spread, and he leaned forward, his nostrils flaring, taking in her scent. He came in closer, sniffed her pussy, and his eyes looked up, met hers with obvious male satisfaction. That he was taking the time to confirm she wanted him, and show he wanted her, seemed a roundabout way of reassuring her, but one she clung to fiercely at the moment.

  His grip on her thighs tightened at the same moment Garnet began to ease her down to her back.

  "No, I'm not sure." She made a futile effort to struggle and they simply bent her body to their will. Fear clamped down on her now, irrational though it might be. Yes, she was aroused and willing, but they were taking away the choice from her. If they took it away from her on this, what else would they take away?

  "No," she said more firmly, and began to kick her feet. "No!"

  The men stopped, perhaps because they caught the edge of fear. While Garnet did not let her go, Kyle did. He released her thighs to cup her face gently in his hands. He made a crooning noise at her as his thumbs brushed her lips, her cheeks. Garnet stroked her breasts again, just the base of the curves, his fingertips caressing her rib cage and her upper abdomen, making the same crooning noise.

  As if he had no sense of urgency at all now, Kyle explored just her face, his fingers sliding down her neck, probing the smooth area where there were no gills, caressing the soft skin. Her neck was highly sensitive to touch, and prickles of sensation drifted outward from his fingers, making the whorls of arousal affect a variety of erogenous points.

  He leaned forward over her body, bracing his palm on the other side of her hip, and brought his lips to her mouth. He stopped just a whisper from contact, his eyes studying hers.

  There was the sound of the falls behind them, the rustle of creatures in the foliage, the calls of birds. Intertwined with it all, a part of the same natural world where things were understood with instinct, not spoken, there was the sound of her breath and his, mingling, touching skin.

  Annie reached up when Garnet responded to the pressure to release her arm and put her fingers on Kyle’s jaw. It was smooth. Apparently, mermaids did not grow beards either. No body hair beyond the brows and lashes, and the thick, luxurious hair on their heads, which she stroked now with her fingers. His eyes n
ever left her face. He was waiting, not with predatory stillness, but with the stillness of an eager lover, hungering for her to offer him his desire, give him the sweet passion of invitation.

  Perhaps she was just imagining that, but up until this moment it had been them, pressing their suit. For just a moment, her distress had charged the air, made the stakes higher, and he seemed to be waiting for the richer reward. Dominance might be the way of all animals, but all animals knew the pleasures consent could offer.

  "So, he's the muscle, you're the closer." She smiled up into Kyle's face. His fingers immediately came up to outline the curve of her mouth. He touched her teeth and then he emulated, giving her a smile in return. At first it was just imitation, copying her movement. Then as her smile broadened, pleased with his actions, that juice that fueled a smile and made it real caught him and reached his eyes.

  "Damn," Annie murmured. What the hell was she waiting for? She reached up, locked both arms around his neck, and plunged.

  He immediately returned the kiss with ardor, his hands sliding down over her neck and shoulders, to clutch over her hipbones. His mouth pressed insistently upon hers, the crooning noise more feral. They eased her down to her back, and Kyle followed. Garnet’s fingers stroked her elbows and wrists, drew her arms out from her body and to her sides, caressing the pale white skin up to her armpits, then wandered back down to her forearms and wrists again, dripping water on her from strands of his long hair. Kyle dominated her vision, now leaning over her, his tongue in her mouth, exploring teeth and gums, soft wet flesh. He made that noise again, harsher than the croon, and her body shuddered in response to the sound of male hunger, universal in translation. The silver-scaled tail was pressed against her outer thigh, making it impossible not to imagine what it would be like for his body to be slapping rhythmically against the spread V of the inside of her thighs.