“We need to widen the search. Get more people on it. Don’t know about you, but I don’t think he’s dead.”
“Me neither. He had help to break out of jail. The question is, whose help?”
“The Israelis’ way of dealing with their own fuck up?”
Raoul shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Then what?”
“I think we’re missing something. Something obvious.”
“We’ve had three years to worry over it.”
“Yeah, but we were feeling so goddamned sorry for ourselves that I still think we weren’t firing on all cylinders.”
“Yeah, perhaps. Still,” Zeke added, nodding toward Cantara. “Now’s not the time.”
“No, I guess not.”
Even so, they continued to discuss the problem in muted tones, their incentive to put their minds to it stretched out between them on the grass, sleeping soundly. Raoul and Zeke were Green Berets—the elite of the elite. No one double-crossed them and lived to tell the tale, and they would have no peace until they figured out what had really happened to almost cost them all their lives. Then it would be retribution time.
Cantara loved the feel of the sun on her face, the soft grass beneath her cheek. She felt somnolent after her active morning and closed her eyes, secure in the knowledge that she was safe with Raoul and Zeke to watch over her. She heard them talking across her in quiet voices, but it was too much effort to try and hear what they were saying.
Images of Raoul’s flashing eyes, alight with passion and triumph as they made love, reeled through her mind on a continuous loop, heating her up faster than the burning sun could manage. She sensed both guys were keen to fuck her senseless, but was unable to understand why. She winced every time she looked in the mirror. She saw a scrawny body with a gaunt face, sunken eyes, and a haunted expression reflected back at her. Nothing about it was familiar, or attractive. These two hunks could do way better for themselves, but seemed stuck on her.
Who was she to argue?
She rolled over, seeking a more comfortable position, and collided with something rock solid. She sat up with a startled cry, fear flooding her brain.
“Easy, baby, I got you,” Zeke said reassuringly.
She felt his strong arms wrap themselves around her in a viselike hold and her panic immediately dissipated. What she’d actually collided with was his chest. A wall of warmth and safety, flowing with rippling muscles—and shirtless. She blinked sleep from her eyes and admired the view.
“It’s kinda warm,” she mumbled.
“Getting hotter all the time,” Zeke replied, looking amused. “You might be better without this.”
She briefly panicked when he attacked the buttons on her shirt, popping them free one by one, but just as quickly relaxed. There was no one here to see them and she was overheating. He pushed the garment from her shoulders and, like them, she ended up bare-chested.
“Those lovely tits of yours are getting some meat on them again, darlin’,” Zeke said, almost sending her into meltdown when his long, capable fingers gently caressed a nipple. “You’ll be needing to wear a bra again pretty soon at this rate.”
“Hmm.”
She closed her eyes and groaned when Zeke attached his lips to the nipple he’d just tweaked.
“You like that, darlin’?” Raoul asked. “You like Zeke sucking your tit?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Hey, bud, she remembers how she’s supposed to address us.” Cantara could hear the satisfaction in Raoul’s voice. “That’s real good.”
Impulsively, Cantara reached out a hand and tugged at the leather thong that Zeke used to tie his hair back. His raven locks cascaded about his shoulders, making him look like a Viking warrior about to ravage her. Well, a girl could hope. Cantara blinked back her surprise when she realized that was what she was hoping for. Raoul had fucked her just a few hours ago and now she was ready to take Zeke up on his rain check. Geez! Was that normal?
“Yeah, you used to do that to Zeke all the time,” Raoul said from her opposite side, lazily running his fingers down the length of her spine with a gossamer-light touch that made her shiver. “You want Zeke to fuck you right here, out in the open?”
How did he know that? “Yes, please.”
The words were out before she could even think if it was what she really wanted. Imagination was one thing. Putting her fantasies into practice was entirely another. Zeke lifted his lips from her breast and transferred them to her lips, engulfing her in a drugging kiss that blew her mind and swept away her lingering doubts. Raoul’s fingers had slipped between the waistband at the back of her jeans, which were too big for her, and were playing with the tops of her buttocks. She instinctively shoved her backside up harder against those fingers, hazy recollections in her confused mind telling her she used to enjoy what he was trying to do to her. She felt another hand—Zeke’s presumably—unsnapping her jeans and jerking down the zip. She was too engrossed in kissing Zeke back to pay much notice.
A little squeal of protest slipped out when Raoul abandoned her butt. Zeke increased the pressure of his arms, and his lips, and it didn’t seem to matter anymore. But Raoul obviously wasn’t done with her, because she felt one of her boots being pulled from her foot. Then the other. Then her socks. Raoul picked up one foot and gently sucked her toes, one at a time, his tongue tantalizing and teasing like only he knew how to. Sizzling sensations worked their way up her legs, homing in on her leaking *. Finding it impossible to sit still, Cantara wriggled about in Zeke’s arms.
“I think the lady needs fucking,” Zeke said huskily, breaking the kiss, sounding like he was in urgent need, too.
“Then get to it, partner.”
Zeke lifted her and Raoul pulled her jeans smoothly away, leaving her in the open air wearing nothing more protective than a skimpy pair of panties.