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Authors: T.M. Clark

Shooting Butterflies (41 page)

BOOK: Shooting Butterflies
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She pressed up into his hand. Knowing what was coming, and wanting it so desperately.

He moved lower and worshipped her with his mouth.

He stilled for a moment, his breathing matching hers, ragged and uneven. ‘So wet for me,' he said. ‘You are so—'

Not finishing the word, he flipped them over, so that she was on top, and his towel unravelled totally. She sat on his hips and leaning forward, began her own exploration of his mature body.

She rained feather kisses over his face, kissing the laughter lines near his eyes. She leisurely explored down his neck, over his Adam's apple, and into the area where his neck met his body and created a valley of velvet softness, that she kissed.

She felt his fingers dig into her buttocks as she continued over his chest, the hair tickling her nose as she lapped at nipples that beaded into tiny pebbles under her touch. She skimmed the taut
six pack with her lips as she explored lower, licking at the small scar she found. Finally, she looked at her prize. Proudly it bobbed, thick and ready, straining for its own attention. She tentatively tasted the tip.

Wayne bucked, and she took him in her mouth, creating suction as she held him captive.

‘Oh God, Tara. I won't last—' he ground out between clenched teeth, and he grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back up. Locking his lips to hers, he moved her under him again. Then slowly put his forehead against hers and while looking into her face, he entered her.

He waited for a moment, as if she might need to get used to him and his size but she arched upwards, begging him for more, her body experiencing a need that only he could satisfy.

She looked into his eyes as he fought nature for authority over his own body, to move slower. To make the moment last for both of them.

‘I love you, Wayne, now and forever,' Tara whispered.

Wayne bent his head and kissed her as he immersed himself in her. He took from her, he gave to her, and within a moment they were together, in an age-old rhythm that sent them into a climax. They dived into the vortex of emotion together, as Tara's whole body shook, so did Wayne's, and they shared joy as together they reached the stars, and were joined in their own heaven.

They lay still, him supporting his weight above her, their bodies still locked together. Spent but not wanting to move.

‘Is your head okay?' Wayne asked.

‘Perfect,' she said as she reached up to kiss him. He met her halfway.

She could feel him inside her, and as she deepened the kiss, she felt the bob of a post orgasmic twitch. She smiled as she clenched her muscles around him, holding him to her.

They stayed together for long moments, and eventually their breathing slowed, returning to almost normal, and Wayne turned
onto his back, pulling her close to him. She used his arm as a pillow as she lay on her back.

She could feel his breath on her hair and his warm hand around her shoulder. It was homey, and it was fantastic just to lie there next to Wayne, and breathe in his scent.

She smiled. ‘I remember we used to do this in the back of your father's old truck, just lay next to each other. Back then we used to talk about the future.'

‘I remember, but none of those dreams came true.'

‘Not true. I became a psychologist, just like I wanted to. You actually never knew what you wanted to do back then other than go to varsity, and get a degree.'

‘I got all these bursaries to go, and I deferred them to join the army instead. Joined the Recces, and it was there that I learnt that the wildlife in Africa was being decimated, and unless more people take the time to save it, preserve it, there won't be any left for the next generation, or the one after that …'

‘So you changed the sugarcane farm into a beautiful game reserve,' Tara said.

‘That, and Jamison and I run our Wild Translocation business.'

‘Relocation?'

‘Translocation. They are living things. You have seen the trucks. We take wild game and transport them for auctions, from farm to farm. It was never meant to grow in to such a large operation. We started it as a way to get our hands on affordable start-up animals, and it grew.'

‘All good hobbies grow bigger because of the passion they are started with,' she said and she shuddered as Wayne grazed his short fingernails over the base of her neck and down to her breasts.

‘Is that your professional psychologist's opinion?'

‘Yes, and people pay me money for my opinions, I'll have you know.'

Wayne laughed.

‘So how do you manage to be the superhero, Wayne? To run both your farm and Wild Translocations?' she asked as she reached
over and ran her hand through his hair, and then lazily scraped her nails against his scalp. She was rewarded with a shiver from him.

‘Not superhero. I just love both sides of doing it. A side business that helps grow the farm. The first advert I posted in the farmers weekly for “free removal of leopards in conflict with human activity,” was such a phenomenal success, Jamison and I moved seven leopards in five weeks. Charging the farmers whose property we were removing them from nothing except a cool drink! We collected cats from all over, from the midlands area where a leopard was frequently seen too close to a school and had started foraging in the dirt bins, to a sheep farm in the Karoo that had a problematic leopard taking its lambs. One from not too far up the road from Hluhluwe on a sugarcane farm, and the other four from the Transvaal, where cattle farmers were having their calves taken.'

‘Sounds like hot hard work,' she said moving her hands down over his side, and to the front, over his nipple. It puckered again.

He covered his hand over hers. ‘Two can play this game,' he said huskily.

‘Sure,' she said and she felt the increase in pressure on her breasts as he began to pluck at her raised nipple. ‘Just keep talking …'

‘You ask for a lot, woman,' he said. ‘I'm a mere male, I can't concentrate on two things at once.'

She hugged him to her. ‘You were saying how good your relo—translocation business was going—' she prompted.

‘I was, wasn't I,' he said. ‘All the work was worth it. At first we relied on using the expertise that Jamison already had from his months with the Zimbabwe Wildlife Department, and pooling his expertise with what I had seen of live game capture years before in the Recces. We began translocating the leopards so that they could populate Kujana with a lower cost than we could buy at the available livestock auctions. We had a few incidents along the way. We had to learn to use a
bakkie
with a long rope attached to lift the door of the leopard's crate when we were releasing them into their
new environment. Man, those cats can move super fast, and they come out pretty pissed off when they sprint out of the travelling crates.'

‘You serious? Did you and Jamison get hurt?' She sat up and looked at him, concerned.

‘No, but it was only by luck that we didn't.' He kissed the tip of her nose. She lay back own, this time on her side, pressed into him.

‘Soon saving leopards became an obsession, saving those magnificent cats from being shot by the commercial farmers, or stoned and speared to death by the tribal villagers. We would trap, remove and translocate them.' His hand found her shoulder, touching it, stroking her.

‘That's so sweet, but surely you couldn't bring them all here?' Tara said as she adjusted herself a little. His hand crept to her back and started drawing erotic lines, from the tip near her shoulders downwards, finishing just at the top of her thigh, and then he would lift his hand, and repeat it, close but not quite in the same place.

By now her arms were pressed up against his chest, but that meant she could explore that with her fingers. His arm looped over her back and he drew lazy circles as he continued to talk about his cats.

‘No, it didn't take long before Kujana had as many as the land could sustain. Leopards are extremely territorial. We needed to avoid the male cats fighting over territory overlaps.'

‘I love leopards,' Tara said, ‘they always look so soft in pictures, like you can stroke them, just big kitties really,' she said, caressing his arm.

Wayne laughed, a deep belly laugh. ‘Please don't—'

‘I wouldn't, I'm just saying—'

He kissed her again, his lips finding hers and their breath mingling in a lazy satisfied exchange. ‘Leopards remind me of you in many ways. They are such solitary animals. And they take great care to avoid one another. Like you did to me when we were teenagers, before we became friends. Regal animals.'

‘I'm not regal—'

‘To me you are. The female will allow her cubs to stay with her until they are old enough to properly fend for themselves, then eventually they leave, go find a territory of their own. Then she's alone again, until she mates, and has more cubs.'

‘That's sad,' she said. ‘And that is definitely not me—'

‘Not that part, just the part where they look good, and are so strong, so protective,' he corrected.

She smiled. Letting her hand wander across his chest again.

‘I remember when I first got to Angola, my team and I were hiding in a crevice, and I saw a mother leopard defend her cubs from an intruding male. It was a fierce fight, and she saved her cubs, but she didn't make it. I always remember feeling devastated that I couldn't run out there and scare the male away, because I would give away my position, and we were in a hot zone, so if I did that, I could have been shot. I was so affected by her, sad that she had died, and yet so proud of her for protecting her cubs no matter what. She gave everything for those cubs. Just like you gave up everything, to move away from your mum, from your home, to save our Josha. The lengths you went to, to disappear so my mother couldn't find you. And then you brought me back into your life, thinking of Josha's future, ensuring that he was safe and looked after by both Gabe and I. Like a wild cat, you did what you had to do to protect your cub.'

Tara hugged Wayne. He hugged her back, holding her tightly to him.

‘When I was in the Recces in Angola, we had a pet lion, Terry. We left him behind when we closed the camp after the war, so once Jamison and I had the fences up, and we were able to, we visited my old camp, looking to translocate him if he was still there.'

‘Did you find him?' she asked.

‘No, I was too late. Later I heard of others who had returned before me, looking for him, wanting to make it right, ensure he was looked after, but no one found any trace of him.'

‘That's sad.'

‘No, that's good news. No bones means he left, he survived and got away, moved to another area. I like to think that he found a wild pride somewhere, and there are Terry offspring now running around in Namibia or in Botswana.'

‘That's a nice thought.'

‘I was an idiot. I should have returned for him earlier, maybe the outcome might have been different,' he said as he kissed the top of her head.

‘No, it's in the past. Looking back doesn't help,' she said. ‘I too was an idiot, I should have got in touch with you so much earlier! I can't bring that time back, but you need to know I'm sorry, Wayne,' she said, and her voice was barely audible as the emotion was so thick in her throat.

‘I know,' he said.

After a small silence she asked, ‘So, what do your resident leopards think of your tourists?'

Wayne smiled as she snuggled back into him and continued to touch his chest.

‘They tolerate them. We have one young male that insists on lying on the pool lounges at the Rooi Vlei Lodge. He marked his territory on that spot and even though we replaced the lounge with a new one, he returned and reclaimed it again. The tourists love taking his photograph in the morning as he catches the first rays of light. They don't even need to leave their camp to view leopards and take stunning photographs of his breath on a cooler morning as he stares at the humans intruding on his peace and quiet, or starts scratching his back. He is such a poser.'

‘So, how did leopards become the buffalo you had in that truck with Josha yesterday?' She adjusted herself in the bed again, and Wayne lay back on his back. She lay on his trunk, her arms crossed under her chin on his chest. He threaded his fingers through her hair.

‘Our hobby. Jamison's and my passion grew to include translocating animals to other safari farms. Fortunately from the initial advert, we had been inundated with requests from people who were willing
to have the animals on their land that caused others problems. So we made it more cost effective to do the translocations, more of a business, less of a hobby, and we would translocate the leopard as close to their original territory as possible. We began a long list of safari farms that wanted one when they become available. A client list with a difference.'

‘Your market came to you,' she said, then yawned.

‘You okay, don't need your meds?' Wayne asked.

‘No, I'm good,' Tara said, shifting again, and this time going back to laying next to him, she put her arm around Wayne's waist and shifted closer so that she absorbed the heat from his body. She closed her eyes.

‘Long story short, eventually we were requested by some of the State Parks Boards to move leopards back into the National Parks. Soon farmers offered us other animals. Some we couldn't help and had to pass onto conservation groups, like the cape otters, they eat all the new trout fish stocks in the KwaZulu-Natal Midlands when they restock their dams. While protected within the Tsitsikamma National Park, the otters outside the park area can grow to plague proportions. It's really sad that many farmers simply kill them. But other animals, we could help with, we could transport easily. Springbok, and the smaller game, and it grew from there. Word of mouth spread that we had low fatalities, that we took care with the animals, attempted to keep their stress levels low. You comfy?' he asked.

BOOK: Shooting Butterflies
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