Excerpt

They stood facing each other in the parlour, a triangle of muddy, dishevelled bodies. Now that the emergency was over, no one knew what to say. An awkward silence filled the spaces between them. Tension crackled in the humid air.

Priscilla looked from one man to the other. Jon’s hair was matted with dirt. There was blood smeared across his naked chest, but thankfully, she did not see any wound. Anil’s fine suit was torn in two places, with the pale lining gaping out of the gashes. He was barefoot, the sucking mud having swallowed his shoes. A dark bruise swelled above his right eye.

She knew that she looked no better. Her filthy hair stuck to her forehead in damp strings. Her clammy skirt clung to her thighs. Her blouse was in tatters, the seams split from her exertion. Her lace camisole, now a muddy brown, was clearly visible.

They were tired, battered and bruised. But they were alive, when not everyone had been so fortunate.

Inexplicably, her heart soared. These two courageous, compassionate men—they had saved lives tonight. She felt blessed by their presence, full of joy, power and love—for both of them.

She walked over to Jon, pulled his face to hers, and kissed him, open-mouthed. He was tentative at first, but in a moment he became eager, pulling her to his chest and mashing his lips against hers. He smelled of earth, iron, and sweat, masculine, intoxicating. Priscilla’s nipples became hard little pebbles that set up exquisite vibrations each time they brushed his flesh. He reached behind her, grabbing her buttocks and forcing her pelvis against his. The hard bulk of his erection prodded the mound at the juncture of her thighs. Her sex, already damp, gushed in response. Boldly, she reached down to fondle his cock through his trousers. Her quick squeeze made him gasp.

Before he could completely recover, Priscilla moved away from him to Anil. The native’s dark eyes followed her every gesture. The hint of a smile played across his full lips. He met her kiss halfway, sinking his tongue deep into her mouth while massaging her breasts. Priscilla feathered a quick caress across his swollen groin before breaking the embrace.

She took Jon’s hand in her right, Anil’s in her left, and led them toward the bedroom. “Come,” she told them. “I think that we all need a bath.”

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