The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [123]
“You’re right,” Jondalar said. “Here’s where we came through. The reeds are bent.”
They clambered back across the reeds to the small pool, which now felt warm. They walked out onto the little spit of stony ground with a feeling of coming home.
“I think I’ll start a fire and make some tea,” Ayla said, running her hands down her arms to push the water off. She gathered up her hair and squeezed the water out, then headed for their pack baskets, gathering a few sticks of wood along the way.
“Do you want your clothes?” Jondalar asked, dropping more wood.
“I’d rather dry off a little first,” she said, noting that the horses were grazing on the steppes nearby, but not seeing any sign of Wolf. She felt a twinge of worry, but it wasn’t the first time he had gone off alone for half a day. “Why don’t you spread out the ground cover on that sunny patch of grass. You can relax while I make the tea.”
Ayla got a good fire going while Jondalar got some water. Then she selected the dried herbs from her store of them, thinking about them carefully. She thought alfalfa tea would be good, since it was generally stimulating and refreshing, with some borage flowers and leaves, which made a healthful tonic, and gillyflowers for sweetness and a mild spicy taste. For Jondalar, she also chose some of the deep red male catkins from alder trees that she had collected very early in the spring. She remembered having mixed feelings when she picked them, thinking of her Promise to mate with Ranec, but all the while wishing it was with Jondalar instead. She felt a warm glow of happiness as she added the catkins to his cup.
When it was done, she carried the two cups of tea to the patch of grass where Jondalar was relaxing. Part of the ground cover he had spread out was in the shade already, but she was just as glad. The heat of the day had already warmed away the chill of the swim. She handed him a cup and sat down beside him. They rested together companion-ably, sipping the refreshing drinks, not saying much, watching the horses standing together head to back, flicking flies away from each other’s faces with their tails.
When he finished, Jondalar lay back, his hands behind his head. Ayla was glad to see him more relaxed and not pushing to be up and going right away. She put her cup down, then stretched out on her side beside him, putting her head in the hollow below his shoulder, and her arm across his chest. She closed her eyes, breathing in his man scent, and felt him put his arm around her and his hand moving across her hip, in an unconscious gentle caress.
She turned her head and kissed his warm skin, then blew her breath toward his neck. He felt a slight shiver and closed his eyes. She kissed him again, then raised up and pressed a series of nibbling little kisses up his shoulder and neck. Her kisses tickled him almost more than he could bear, but it gave him such excruciating tingles of excitement, he resisted moving and forced himself to lie still.
She kissed his neck and throat, and his jaw, feeling the stubble of whiskers on her lips; then she lifted herself up until she reached his mouth and moved across his lips from one side to the other with her soft nibbles. When she reached the other side, she pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, but he had an expression of anticipation. Finally he opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him and smiling with absolute delight, her hair still damp and hanging over one shoulder. He wanted to reach for her, crush her to him, but he smiled back.
She bent down and explored his mouth with her tongue, so lightly he could hardly feel it, but the breeze blowing across the wetness sent unbelievable shivers through him. Finally, when he thought he could stand it no longer, she kissed him, firmly. He felt her tongue seeking entrance and opened his mouth to receive her. Slowly she explored inside his lips, and under his tongue, and the ribbed roof of his mouth, testing, touching,