The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection by Hazel Hunter

stopped permitting that. Although they’d said it’d be too dangerous, she knew their resistance really stemmed from the bad publicity. Though this event had been their way of life, their very means of survival, for centuries, animal rights and conservation groups invariably raised an outcry.  
    The main whaling boats began to enter the water. Emily saw some of the traditional buoys that Austin had mentioned. They looked like bloated seals. It was the skin of the entire animal, sewn up tight, and full of air.
    Austin was already waiting in the waves with the other kayakers. As she had many times that morning, she quickly swung the camera toward him and zoomed in. She waved and he immediately waved back, as aware of her as always, even at this distance. Now he turned the kayak to follow others who were doing the same.
    Emily felt a pang as he began to paddle away and knew that she’d be worrying until he was back. If the whaleboats seemed undersized, the kayaks seemed downright tiny. She snapped a couple of photos.
    “So, you’re a photographer,” a familiar voice said from behind her.  
    Emily froze.

    • • • • •

    The paddling felt good. Austin dug the blades into the water, grateful for the release of pent-up energy. Even so, he couldn’t resist one last look. He let the kayak glide as he twisted his torso in the cockpit.
    The beach was very far away now but Emily’s blonde hair wasn’t hard to pick out. He was about to raise his hand when he realized someone tall was standing near her. It was too far to be sure but … was that his father?
    Impossible. He was never up this early. He nursed his hangover until noon at least.
    He felt a bump and looked forward.
    “Watch yourself,” said Emmet, one of the older kayakers as he pushed off Austin’s kayak with his paddle. “This is a whale hunt, not a cruise.”
    “Sorry,” Austin said, as he paddled a few strokes.  
    Then he looked back again. He couldn’t see her any more, or that tall person. The entire crowd had drifted back toward town. He hoped she had done the same thing.

    • • • • •

    Emily stepped away from Karlin before she even turned. She made herself smile.
    “Yes,” she said, her voice tense. “I’m doing a piece for Condé Nast.”
    For anyone else she might have elaborated, but not for him. All she could think about was what he must have done to Austin. The crowd around them began heading back toward town.
    Safety in numbers, she thought.
    She gave Karlin a tight smile and a nod and joined the others.
    But it wasn’t going to be that easy. She heard his heavy boots in the gravel next to her.
    “You know,” he said. “If you really want good pictures, Hunter’s Lookout is the place to be.”
    She couldn’t look at him.
    “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll check it out.”
    “It’s the only place to see the hunt from now on ‘cause they have to round it for the better whaling grounds.”
    “Thanks,” she said again, staying just behind a small family group.
    Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm.
    “I can take you there,” Karlin said.
    She quickly danced away from him but he didn’t let go.
    “No, that’s okay,” she exclaimed, as the father of the group turned to look in her direction.
    Karlin’s hand disappeared.
    And then the heavy footsteps stopped as well.
    Emily chanced a sideways glance as she kept up her pace.
    Karlin was gone.  
    She breathed a sigh of relief.  

    • • • • •

    Austin’s arms moved mechanically, no longer enjoying the paddling. He wasn’t tired but he couldn’t stop thinking of the scene on the beach.
    Could that possibly have been his father?  
    He glanced around him at the hunting party. The success of the hunt could sometimes spell the well being of an entire village. It was less critical now with access to outside supplies but his position here was important nevertheless. These were the men that had taught him his survival skills. Whether they’d