My head barely reaches his shoulders. Ibreathe in his powerful aromas as he nuzzles his head in my hair.Antoine's body is earthy and tangy with sweat... even though he has justshowered after his practice. "It's really hot here." He wrenches open awindow, and the sheet that's been nailed to the frame billows in and outin the Santa Ana winds. "That's better." He gathers me to him again,and we sway to the gentle music.He has really long, strong arms, and he rubs my buttocks as we rock backand. I waited. But he didn't. The sounds of splashing and high-pitched shrieks seemed to come from somewhere north west and I walked cautiously towards it, trying as hard as I could to move as stealthily as possible, my hand gripping my torchlight, ready to swing it hard at anything that lunged in attack. Dad had said that mountain lions have been spotted here years ago when he was a young man. I moved closer to the watering-hole and stood behind a thick foliage of forest berry bushes and peered. More

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