Tender Savage (Siren Publishing Allure) (7 page)

From his position by the shelter, Abraham swivelled to look at her.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he asked dryly.

“Chasing off snakes,” she whispered, feeling wretched, tears catching in the back of her throat, and wanting nothing more than to be safely at home.

Rising slowly to his feet, Abraham moved in on her and, snaking an arm around her waist, pulled her to him.

“You’re stirring up one hell of a lot of trouble, woman,” he ground out, bending his head and taking her mouth in a mind-blowing kiss. Caught off balance, she staggered forward against his chest. Opening his legs to steady himself, Abraham drew her closer, enfolding her in a secure embrace.

Pressing her back against the trunk of a tree, Abraham pulled down her trousers, and, ripping apart her panties, his hand unerringly found her feminine mound. Cupping her, he gently teased apart her pussy and inserted two fingers. Eleanor gasped against his mouth, and his tongue found entry, dancing across her lips. He pushed in. His fingers working their magic on her clitoris, mirroring the thrusts of his tongue, he easily brought her to a knee-trembling orgasm. Lifting his weight from her, his mesmerising gaze holding hers, he undid his zipper, and his cock surged free, the tip dewing in anticipation.

Seeing his fully engorged member, vigorous and pulsating, brought her out of the trancelike state she had fallen into, and she impatiently dragged one leg out of her trousers. Abraham’s hands found her buttocks, caressing and moulding their peachy firmness. Eager to feel him inside her, Eleanor mewed gently in anticipation until, slipping his hands under her thighs, he lifted her.

Straddling his hips, her ankles locked across his back, and with her arms around his neck, he thrust forcibly home. Clinging to him, her back pressed against the tree, the bark grazing her bottom, she was relentless in her need for satisfaction. Breathing hard, she clenched her teeth, begging him to the point of tears to screw the arse off her. Tightening her internal muscles and now beyond anything but the need for her own gratification, she dug her nails into his shoulders and, shocking herself, cried for him to fuck her and fuck her hard!

Flattening his hands against the tree, and with Eleanor clinging to him like a limpet, Abraham obligingly drove deep into her, working his hips. His pace was fast and furious, pounding and grinding. Pelvis and thighs slick with their juices, he rode her to heaven.

Feeling her orgasm taking hold, and her teeth sinking into his shoulder, he lost control.

Barely listening to her repeated appreciation of his prowess, Abraham climaxed, jerkily spilling his hot seed deep within her womb.

Finally spent, Eleanor’s feet shakily finding the ground, he pulled out. His cock, still engorged and slick with her essence, jerked in response to her gaze. Turning from her, Abraham adjusted his clothing, barking angrily at her to cover herself. Hurriedly, she pushed her leg back into her slacks, absently noting the red marks on her thighs where Abraham had held her. Zipping up, she collected her ruined panties from the ground and screwed them up into a ball, hiding them from his gaze behind her back.

“Abraham?” she whispered, not sure why he was acting this way.

“Enough!” he ground out, turning his back. “This was a mistake, Eleanor.”

“Are you blaming me?” she asked, feeling hurt.

“No, of course not. We were both to blame, but that doesn’t make it right.” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his neck. “You were hot for it, and I had an itch needing to be scratched. Just don’t go reading more into it than that—imagining yourself in love with me.” He shrugged. “It happened, end of story. However, this is neither the time nor the place to debate it. You’re very vulnerable at the moment, Eleanor, alone, frightened and in shock, and I…”

He turned from her, raking a hand through his hair. “I should have known better. I need to get you home safely and get this package back to the authorities. I don’t need any distractions, and you, princess, are one hell of a distraction.” He looked back at her, standing by the tree, her dress in disarray, her hair a mess, eyes wide, lower lip trembling, and her fingers tearing at the already ragged panties.

“Sit yourself down and have a drink. We need to move at early light, and you need some sleep.”

Handing her the canteen, he commanded her to stay and, without a further word, strode off into the scrub.

Eleanor, staring after him, felt shocked, and she sat down abruptly. Unmoving, she gazed absently into space, her mind blank and her heart heavy. Moments passed, the sounds of the jungle faded, and everything felt slightly surreal until, with a flick of lashes, she once again became focused. Closing her mind to what had happened between herself and Abraham, she calmly unscrewed the cap on the canteen and gulped some tepid water.

Willing herself not to cry, she vowed to concentrate on getting back home and forget everything else, dismissing it as not important. Crawling under the makeshift canopy, she lay down, but her thoughts, refusing to cooperate, returned once again to Abraham. Why had she succumbed to his considerable attractions? What was it about this man that kept her coming back for more? She wasn’t a naive girl in awe of a manly physique, and this wasn’t her first encounter with sex, although, even though she hated to admit it, it had definitely been the best. She frowned in concentration. Why did he affect her so much? She couldn’t understand why his inadvertent assault on her senses was making her act so completely out of character. She remembered the way she’d crudely asked him to screw her and fuck her, and she squirmed in embarrassment, and she felt her hot face grow even hotter.

Perhaps she had hit her head in the crash and it was shock that was making her act so irresponsibly, she excused herself. After all, they hadn’t used a condom, something she would never before have even considered. But, she thought as she pursed her lips, he’d been right about one thing. She had been hot for it, so hot in fact, that she’d not even thought about protection. She’d just been so eager to have him inside her, possessing her, making her come. Or maybe her lapse in self-preservation had been out of loneliness, or even just plain old hero worship. He had become her rescuer, after all. But perhaps it had been none of those things. Perhaps at the end of the day, she gave a hysterical chuckle, or she was just a floozy, a common-or-garden slut—
a tart!
The smile dying from her face, she closed her eyes. She was just so tired. Her limbs felt heavy, and her body ached in places she didn’t even know she had. Maybe she’d rest—just for a moment.

Abraham was by the river, a sight that never failed to amaze him, as taking into account the size of the Amazon, wherever one stood one never appeared to be far from its magnificent glory. He had gathered some nuts and berries and had caught a fish, having learned how to without a rod in survival training. His thoughts were abstracted, an unusual phenomenon for him. Always in control, ordered in mind and body, he was now distracted, preoccupied, unfocused, and he wasn’t used to it. Eleanor had got under his skin, and he didn’t like it. He should have left her behind, got the discs to safety, and then returned for her in a few days. But, he thought with a sigh, she’d been so vulnerable, a veritable babe in the woods, and his conscience had got the better of him. He stroked a thoughtful finger down his scar. He’d vowed never to get involved with a woman again. Date them, bed them, and then wave them on their way, but with Eleanor he’d succumbed. Caught off guard by her helplessness, he’d caved in and just had to become the hero and rescue her. As he thought of her, his heartbeat quickened. There was something about her that made him want to protect her, that made him feel vulnerable. It was like she had some kind of hold over him. He wanted to hold her and touch her, and, more worryingly, he wanted to know her, know everything about her, what made her laugh and cry, and even stupid things like what her dreams were. He grimaced. God he had to pull himself together. Anyone would think he had feelings for her.

Sitting on a stump and gazing at the deceptively calm river, he let his thoughts become reflective, taking him back to that other time many years ago.

The woman had been beautiful, with a childlike innocence that was illusory, an innocence that had covered a dark heart. He remembered those few days with a surprising clarity of mind. The mission had been to enter a war zone to recover a diplomat. His squad was the best there was, a crack team that diced with death on a daily basis, who knew each other inside out, where respect and loyalty was the order of the day.

The information had been accurate, and the diplomat had been easy to find, but getting him out had been a Herculean task, surrounded as he had been by pseudo military men, freedom fighters as they liked to call themselves, but in reality, butchers, without conscience or compassion. They’d gone in at night, parachuting as near to the target as they could. Stealthily, they’d moved in, working as a team almost as one, mind, body, and soul. They knew what to do and were good at it.

Men died. He shrugged. That was the nature of the game. Where men went, death and destruction followed.

It had all gone so well. Enemy casualties had been kept to a minimum, and his men, luckily, had come out unscathed. The diplomat had been recovered, but he had insisted on bringing his aide with him, a variable not counted on. Grimacing, Abe remembered how upon seeing the aide, his heart had stopped, just for a few momentous, mind-blowing seconds. She had indeed been beautiful, and her smile, it had radiated around her almost as if the sun had come out. They had moved at speed, but she’d done all that had been asked of her, never complaining and always with that gentle, soul-destroying smile.

He’d felt—Abe frowned—overwhelmed, he supposed, never before having been so affected by a woman, and, he admitted, he’d fallen head over heels for her. She’d been everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, spirited, courageous, beautiful, and sexy.

The diplomat, in his eagerness to return to safety, had not obeyed orders and had as a consequence received a gunshot wound, but it had been a through and through, and his life hadn’t been in any danger. But even through all that their mission was a success, and they had returned home triumphant. Full of admiration for her spirit, he’d asked if he could see her again. He remembered the joy he’d felt when she had appeared to be as enamoured with him, as he was with her, and had so eagerly agreed. There followed a few weeks of complete happiness. They hadn’t known anything about each other, but they had made plans, big plans. They were in love and were going to get married, have a bunch of unruly kids, and live in the country, happily ever after and all that. But just a few hours later, he’d caught her riffling through his papers. She’d stolen the key to his office, intent on finding out about their next mission in the Middle East. When she was confronted, it hadn’t taken much for her to spill the beans and confess everything. She’d wanted to brag, he remembered, triumphant at being able to pull the wool over his eyes. Admitting to being a spy, she’d gone on to brag that her mission had been to get close to a member of the SAS, her remit, do whatever she had to, even use sex to get the information. She’d boasted how she’d not only used him, but a fellow officer as well, deciding that she’d have more chance getting what she’d wanted if she increased the odds. He recalled the devastation her confession had caused. His heart had been ripped in two. Hurt, he’d demanded to know who else had succumbed to her charms and, his face setting into a glacial mask, he’d listened to her extolling the virtues of his friend, going into graphic detail of their amorous encounters.

Angry and disillusioned, he’d demanded she come quietly, and even though he’d been deceived, he’d promised to do all he could to help her. Realising there was no escape, she’d surrendered gracefully and reached up to kiss him, but she hadn’t been quick enough. Her knife had failed to hit its target. He’d glimpsed a flash of a blade and had moved in the nick of time, the blade just missing his throat. Furious at his survival, she had become possessed. He could have overpowered her easily enough, but still his heart had betrayed him. Not wanting to hurt her, he’d tried to reason with her, but she’d fooled him again, and, about to yield the knife, she had instead whipped it down his cheek, laughing hysterically, and then in a moment of complete insanity, she had turned it on herself and had embedded it in her own heart. He had been left bereft, feeling her loss as surely as if he’d killed her himself. He still recalled the blood seeping from her inert body, covering the floor like a deep, crimson pool. He’d vowed there and then never again to be taken in by a pretty face, but—he came back to the present—now there was Eleanor. Impatiently thrusting the disturbing memories from his mind, Abe looked at his watch. Time had passed, and Eleanor would be worrying.

* * * *

As he made his way back to the clearing some time later, Abraham’s intuition kicked in. Alerted by his sixth sense, he became aware of some subtle differences in the forest around him. The lush green foliage was damaged, the big treelike fronds were torn and bent, slight scuff marks could be seen in the undergrowth, and the air had a strange stillness. Motionless, he sniffed the air. The smells of the jungle had changed palpably, and even the birds seemed quieter. His senses now fully alert, he pressed quietly on toward the encampment, where only a bare two hours ago he’d confidently left Eleanor. Cautiously moving forward until he was close enough to observe without being seen, he removed the binoculars from his rucksack and hunkered down among the undergrowth, becoming one with the natural backdrop.