Without further adieu, Chapter 4
Oh, R-rated content warning!
In the dream, he came through the window, soundless as the cat, a silhouette against the black of night. His naked shadow stood over her, unmoving, except the eyes. The dark hid them from her, but she felt their path. Where his gaze fell, her skin sizzled.
Tonight, when she reached for him, her body obeyed. She pushed herself up. Her arms wrapped around the shadow, drawing him to lie beside her.
Slowly, carefully, he settled into her capricious bed, turning her gently to spoon against her back. His hard cock burrowed between the cheeks of her ass. His hands explored what his eyes had already taken in.
Her body responded with a gush of arousal. His mouth descended to her shoulder, biting, then licking away the sting. The hammock creaked beneath their combined weight, swaying to the movement of her hips as she rubbed against his hardness. Cradled in its soft fabric, their bodies tried to meld into one.
Rough hands cupped her breasts, thumbs petting the nipples until they tightened into hard little kernels. The empty, throbbing place between her legs ached to be filled.
Perfectly timed, he pulled her leg over his and penetrated her with the length and breadth of two fingers. Thumb on her clit, he plunged into her wetness, bringing the ache to a demanding need.
She wriggled against him, begging for more. Pitiful, whimpering sounds escaped her. She’d never begged to be fucked. Tonight she did, her only fear that she’d awaken too soon.
With a roll of his hip, he brought his cock to her opening, pressed, stretched, filled her. She cried out as the first spasms struck her before he had even seated himself within her.
His teeth brushed her shoulder. A low growl sent vibrations coursing through her, electrifying every nerve. He rocked, gliding through her slickness with easy, careful strokes, fueling the flames.
A solid lunge and she boiled over into a maelstrom of pleasure. His arm against her belly pulled her tight. He drove her to the peak and beyond, gnawing at her shoulder and neck, growling in her ear. When she fell limp in his arms, his hand slid to the apex of her sex, gathered moisture from their joining and caressed her clit.
The hammock rocked precariously as his thrusts grew more heated. Sharp, barking grunts pulsed against her neck.
Until that moment the dream was hers–all about her pleasure. But now her shadow lover lost control, thrusting hard and deep and long with her squeezed in his arms. His finger on her clit brought her back to a state to match his own. Between them, civilization vanished. In the pitch-blackness, only He and She, sweat-slick flesh and the liquid sounds of their most primal need.
He shuddered when he came, his thighs quivering against hers, his body quaking. The sound he made tore through and out of her in explosive spasms.
When the hammock finally came to rest, he turned her onto her back, slipped between her legs and started again.
* * * *
From the shadows, Carlos leaned against a mossy trunk watching the woman who’d yanked him from the comfortable oblivion of his most basic nature to this–this semblance of humanity. A masquerade so skillfully wrought he himself fell to its allure.
She sat on a rock behind a camera and tripod, downwind of several clumps of bright orange blossoms, observing through binoculars. Now and then, she penciled something into the notebook in her lap or snapped a shot of a feeding hummingbird. He’d found her like this at seven and again at ten. It was now noon.
At long last, Beth stretched, set the notebook aside and stood.
He coughed softly to alert her before speaking. “How do you sit so still for so long?”
Her face turned in his direction already wearing a brilliant smile. Her unabashed happiness at seeing him tugged at his heart.
Exiting the shadows, Carlos moved one step closer to taking the leap he’d avoided for a hundred years. He was about to let himself fall in love. It was inevitable. The only question remaining was would she go home happy for his attentions.
“Sitting for all this beauty isn’t hard,” she said, walking toward him. “For instance, I could sit and stare at you all day–would be no chore at all.” Reaching up on her toes, she planted a welcoming kiss on his cheek that burned through to his loins. “This is my project, heliconia and hummingbirds–at least in part.”
The expectation in her face prompted a question. “What are you looking for?”
“The unfortunate likelihood of losing two species because one is going extinct,” she said. “Let me get my camera.” She returned to her abandoned perch and began packing the equipment away. “Heliconia beckneri is dependent on the Sabrewing for pollination,” she continued. “But, the flower is on the endangered species list. I need to determine if the relationship is as strong in the other direction–if Beckneri’s demise will affect the hummingbird population–and extrapolate the extent of the damage.” All packed up, she stood in front of him expectantly. “It doesn’t look good, actually.”
He took the pack from her hands and slid an arm about her waist. They walked together toward the compound.
“So, the Sabrewing will be no more,” he said. “Sad to hear.” Another notch in his belt of failures.
“It is a beautiful bird–worth saving, if possible. It might adapt, but Beckneri nectar has a much higher nutrient value than the other heliconia I’ve tested. But you know all this, don’t you?”
He answered with a grin.
“I thought so. You could probably write my thesis for me right now.”
“No, the research so far proves only the relationship. Yours might save a beautiful creature from extinction,” he said, in no way wishing to subvert her enthusiasm for the project. If only he had a thousand more like her.
His answer pleased her. The way her face lit up when she smiled stopped his breath.
“But you didn’t come looking for me to talk about birds and flowers, did you?”
No, he came to court a broken heart and, in all likelihood, one for her as well. “There is a place I want to show you. Are you working this afternoon?”
“You mean, like a date?” She grinned. “How does after lunch sound?”
“A date after lunch sounds good. You’ll need your swimming clothes–no fords this time.”
* * * *
The Jeep bounced over a rutted track, hardly a road at all, in a direction Beth had not taken before. At first, Carlos’s efforts to maintain his half of a conversation were obvious and endearing. He loosened up after a while, but his answers to any personal questions, though forthright enough, provided little information.
“No family,” was all he said when she asked.
“How old are you, Carlos? Carter told me you’ve been around at least as long as he has, but you can’t be that old.”
“Older than I look.” The playful grin he threw in her direction softened the obvious avoidance.
They came to an abrupt halt a few feet from a fallen tree blocking the road. Carlos leaped out to investigate.
“You can’t imagine you’ll move that alone. Is there a way around?”
“Wait in the car,” he said.
She ignored the instructions. “Could we use the Jeep to push it out of the way?” she asked, coming up to him where he studied the end of the log.
“Poachers. See how the end is cut, not broken. This is fresh.” He took her by the arm and led her to the driver’s seat. “I have to take care of this. I want you to drive back to the compound.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
“No, you are not.” He dug around in the back of the Jeep for his daypack and pulled out a gun and holster that he donned low on his hips. “Poaching in the reserve is a serious crime. These men will be dangerous.”
“How will you get back?”
He pointed. “The compound is less than eight kilometers in that direction.”
“Through the jungle? No way. I’ll wait here, and we’ll go back together.”
“Beth, do you see the roadblock? They may be watching us now. Get in the car and drive. I have lived here all my life. I know these people.”
Beth stopped arguing. This was his job. Rather than continue to give him a hard time, she climbed back into the Jeep and started the engine, but watched as he disappeared into the trees.
She hated leaving him. She threw the car into reverse and stretched to keep her eyes on the road behind. Backing up was not her strong point, but the rutted track was too narrow and overhung to turn around. She moved backward at a snail’s pace until she found a spot wide enough, maybe, for a five-point turn. Carefully, slowly, she eased the rear end to the right.
The vegetation muffled the loud bang when the tire blew.
She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and cursed.
What choice did she have? Beth snatched her pack from the back seat and set off after him.
Look for Chapter 5 of Gato Negro in a couple weeks. Of course, if you just can’t wait for the next installment, you can always download the book, and the beautiful cover art by Stella Price.
Sorry, they wouldn’t let me price it any lower than ninety-nine cents.
Thanks for reading.
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