Page 21 of Stains of Desire
How are her legs so smooth? She's been in the jungle for months.
She inhales deeply and freezes.
Great. Now I've freaked her out.
She tilts her head. "Who are you?" Her English accent makes my cock grow harder.
I love women with accents. I'm a total sucker. But women who speak English with an accent... I don't stand a chance.
I dated a girl once who didn't speak a lot of English, and the accent was hot, but I couldn't develop anything but a physical connection with her. We had some hot sex, but nothing developed beyond that. Her native tongue was Russian. I only speak English and the little Spanish Dirk's taught me over the years.
Not that I've ever had much of a connection with any woman. Sex is pretty easy to get. I take care of myself, like all the guys on our team do. Dirk and I even had a competition to see who could develop a better V in a year. It's still up for debate who won.
But I've had no luck finding a woman who I can connect with. And now that I'm forty-three, I'm getting tired of the dating game. I'm pickier than I used to be and don't pursue as many women as I could. I think it would be nice to find someone permanent. I assumed I would have had kids by now, but I guess it's not in the cards. Maybe with my lifestyle it's for the best. But I'm getting older and this gig won't last forever. Rescuing people can be hard on your body. It's full of stress, and most guys don't last past forty, forty-five max.
"My name is Axel Cain. I'm with Interpol."
"Interpol?" Her face drops, and her lips shake.
Why is she scared?
"Ma'am—"
Ryker steps out of the woods and sets his target down next to Penelope. I hesitate for a moment but get in the front, and we silently drive away.
I look in the rearview mirror and several times catch her eye. It's pitch black out, but her eyes glow like an animal's.
If she's an animal, I'll be the beast. And I'll ravish every part of her, like she's my prey and I haven't eaten in days.
I seriously need to stop these thoughts. She's a target.
When we pull into camp, she jumps out as soon as I park.
She crosses her arms, and when I step toward her, she retreats.
Why is she spooked?
I put my hands in the air. "Whoa. Ma'am, I'm not here to hurt you," I reiterate.
Tires rumble on the stones, and she jumps, then winces.
"It's only the others," I try to assure her. "I think it's best if I take you into the tent. We have a first aid kit for your foot."
She stays frozen.
I step closer. "Is it okay if I help you?"
Her eyes glisten. "Thank you." Her accent once again evokes further pain on my cock.
She's a victim. This is work. Go take care of her foot.
I reach toward her, and she says, "Can you tell me who you work for at Interpol?"
I freeze. "You want to know my boss's name?"
"Yes."
"Louis Couture."
