IN WHICH I DISCOVER NIKOS HAS A SEXTH SENSE.
The motorcycle ride, with me straddling Nikos, the hot engine thrusting beneath us, was as apt a metaphor as I could imagine for what we both had on our minds.
When we got down to the port, he chained it to a post and we waded out in the water to his boat. Clambering up the side ladder was a challenge for me in my miniskirt, though I’m sure he found it easier than usual, given how I flashed him a hot pink eyeful of my lucky lace panties — yes, the same ones Chronos had so enjoyed.
The sun was low in the sky and as we cast out, I explored his beat-up, 25′ fishing boat. Though there were ropes, lines, nets and buckets around, it was neat and scrubbed clean, not unlike Nikos himself. A few steps led below deck where there was a tiny kitchen, bathroom and two beds that folded up into the sides.
As we cruised past the islands out to sea, Nikos asked me to take the wheel while he set up a couple fishing lines.
“You are fishing now?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, “Aren’t we going to have dinner?”
I laughed, delighted. Of course.
After he set up the fishing lines, Nikos went below and returned with a charcoal grill, then a big bowl of salad and a bottle of retsina wine in an ice bucket.
He came up from behind and put his arms around me, grasping the wheel and imprisoning me in one motion. He kissed my shoulders, up my neck to the back of my hair, then, as I sighed and tilted my head to the side, he kissed the side of my neck, down to the top of my chest. The lightness and subtlety was tantalizing — I couldn’t wait for more.
Flicking his tongue lightly around the outside of my ear, suddenly he whispered,”Oh, dinner’s here — excuse me.” He ran over to one of the lines, which had become taut with the tension of what appeared to be quite a big fish.
How he even knew this was beyond me — after all, the fishing line was behind him while he was apparently focused on me. He unbuttoned his shirt, took it off and balled it up neatly, then went to work.
I turned around to watch Nikos bring in the catch, his bronze muscles rippling in the setting sun, as he reeled in a gorgeous, glistening metallic blue swordfish.
Make that two of us who were reeling.