by Serena Janes
It was the perfect adornment for her lion man.
Julie was hungry for more of his body. Intoxicated by the musky smell of his underarms, she reached for the buckle on his belt, and managed to loosen it with one hand. The button on his waistband gave her a little more trouble, and she had to use her other hand as well, her impatience growing. Then the zip was down and she crouched in front of him, pushed her face into his groin and sucked in a lungful of air.
She was hit full in the face with his scent times ten, and it made her stupid with lust. He was damp, hot, dark, musty, animal sex—a flood of saliva filled her mouth and a gush of warmth wet her panties. Down came his shorts and out sprang his cock.
She looked at it greedily, studying its smooth, shiny, purplish head, the deep slit provocatively crowned with a glistening drop. It was even larger than she remembered, long and wide, thick veins running along the sides.
She could hear his breath coming in short bursts, but he held himself still as she nudged his scrotum with the tip of her nose and sucked in another lungful. Then she lifted her head and sniffed the entire length of his swaying cock, then the gold-colored hair at its base.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, almost a growl. He bent down and lifted her by the elbows. “You’re just asking for trouble, aren’t you?”
He picked her up and carried her to the bed. In a flash he was on top of her, his weight almost knocking the wind out of her. He smothered her in hot kisses, and she returned them with equal force. Together they wrestled her out of her clothes and then he was inside her, filling her completely, his aura of animal sensuality enveloping them both.
Words were redundant—it was all about hot, wet skin sliding on hot, wet skin, the smells, tastes and sounds of their pleasure. Julie opened her mouth, her legs, her heart to take him, to consume him. And he kept giving and giving and giving her more. Then more again—until she felt herself exploding, falling, turning, hurtling through space, stars whizzing by her head as she cried out.
When the adhan woke Julie a few hours later, she saw the sun’s rays slanting through the shades at a softer angle. One of her arms was asleep, and she extricated it from under Tor’s neck, causing him to stir. But he didn’t wake up.
That gave her a chance to study him. His hair had come loose from its tie, and the evening light made it glow in golden strands. His lashes were long and dark, the smooth skin of his face brown against the white sheets of the bed. She sat up and pulled away a little to admire his long back, the dimples on either side of his tailbone, the symmetry of his round buttocks. His legs were long, too, but well-defined, and covered with downy hair.
She shifted again so she could get a better look at the front of his body—she wanted to look at his belly, the hair between his legs, and the now-flaccid penis. Then she looked up to his abs and chest, the symmetrical pattern of soft hair, his corded neck, and then right up into his open eyes.
She blushed.
“And what do you think you’re looking at?” He rolled onto his back, raised his arms and bent them back behind his head, lacing his fingers together. A playful smile teased her as he exposed himself fully to her scrutiny.
She licked her lips. “I have to tell you again. Get used to it. You really are a beautiful piece of man-flesh.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He flexed his biceps and gave her a provocative smile. She could see his cock beginning to grow larger.
Getting up, she moved to the foot of the bed and sat cross-legged. From that position she could look at his entire body, and he could see pretty much everything she owned.
Silently, they stared at each other. Julie felt herself getting warmer, almost as if her heart was pumping blood more rapidly through her body. She watched his cock move around in a one-hundred and eighty degree turn as it filled with blood, the color changing from pale to dark in a matter of moments.
He was watching her face intently, moving his gaze down along her body, then back up to her eyes, a little smile crooking up one corner of this mouth.
She was beginning to sweat.
A trickle ran down between her breasts. Then she felt another at the back of her neck. It was like being in a sauna. Her nipples were pointed, hard, sensitive. She kept swallowing, and her underarms prickled. She felt his eyes heating every part of her body. She was as hot inside as her skin was on the outside. The bedspread was damp underneath her and she licked away the wet film of salt that formed on her upper lip.
But she didn’t speak. She just looked at him, adoring him with her eyes. Catching the scent of his body’s heat, almost able to feel his pulsing energy.
Time was suspended as they made love to each other without a word, without a touch. And ever so slowly Julie realized that she was in fact engaging in a sexual act every bit as erotic and exciting as what they’d done to each other two nights before. Looking at the smooth planes and rounded angles of his body, watching his eyes change from pale to dark, from fiery to soft, raised her to a state of arousal that stunned her. She felt her body begin to thrum, beginning somewhere deep inside her core and radiating outwards to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her vagina pulsed, wetting the bed even more. Her belly softened and she felt the beginnings of soft contractions of pleasure pulsing upwards, outwards.
Her face must have registered her surprise because all of a sudden Tor took her in his arms and rolled her onto her back. He slid into her so effortlessly it was as if her body was pulling him inside. They fit together perfectly, and Julie almost wept with joy as she shuddered and rocked and sucked her lover in through every pore.
* * * *
Tor wiped up the last of the olive oil from the bottom of the plastic carton with a bit of bread. Then he crammed it into his mouth and looked at Julie, who was once again sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed, wearing nothing but the honeybee panties. She’d finished eating and was watching him with those haunting eyes of hers. Most of their food was gone, but he was still hungry.
No surprise. We’ve been at it for almost nine hours straight.
He was feeling great. They’d polished off the wine, too, and gone through three liters of water between them.
He scratched the stubble on his chin and decided it was time for a shave. Julie had complained she was getting sandpapered. Another shower wouldn’t hurt, either, before they went to bed.
We should try and catch some sleep, this time.
He hadn’t thought much about what he’d do once she left in the morning. He should spend some time sightseeing. Visit the mosques. He knew he probably wouldn’t be back to this part of the world any time soon. Political dissent meant that anything could happen at any time.
Julie stretched out languidly on the bed beside him, like a cat, and sighed. She really did have a marvelous body. Strong and fit, but completely feminine. Completely, outrageously sexy. And hot. He couldn’t remember when he’d last fucked a woman who was so hot. So eager and willing and ready to come like a firecracker. A whole chain of firecrackers.
It’s a wonder she’s still conscious. By rights she should have passed out from exhaustion hours ago. But there she is, looking like she wants it again. I wish I could, but I’m done.
“You took some pictures of that ceiling in the museum, didn’t you?” she asked.
Instantly he was on guard. “Uh. Yeah.”
“I was thinking that maybe you could send them to me. After you get home, I mean.”
He looked at her, as if considering her request. The look on her face told him that they both knew she wasn’t so much interested in the pictures as she was in exchanging email addresses. And all he wanted was a clean break. Anything else would be ridiculous, given their situation.
He didn’t know what to say.
“I’m going to take another shower, and then I’ll shave for you.” He rubbed his bristly neck. “I don’t want your last memory of me to be tainted by the pain of whisker burn.”
Maybe he was a little sad, himself. He really liked her—and he absolutely loved fucking her—but they were getting ready to part company. It was inevitable, therefore didn’t bear thinking about. So he didn’t.
He brushed the crumbs from his chest and stood up, knowing she was looking at his body again. He hadn’t put on a stitch of clothing since they’d locked themselves in the room.
“Are you coming in?” he asked as he pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the water.
“No. You go ahead.”
So he did. He soaped himself and started thinking about what he would do the next day, and then the day after that.
When Tor stepped out of the shower, he knew right away the room was empty. Julie’s clothes were gone. Her bag was gone. There was nothing at all of her left anywhere.
For a moment he just stood there, toweling his hair and thinking. Then he shrugged his shoulders and pulled on a pair of shorts.
If he’d stopped to examine his feelings, he probably would have admitted he was bothered by this little surprise. But he didn’t want to delve into his feelings. His feelings had never done him any favors, and he didn’t want to consult them now.
Instead, he pulled out his smartphone to check his email. Then he read the sports news until he fell into a heavy sleep.
Chapter Nine
It was almost midnight, but the streets of Damascus were surprisingly busy as Julie walked as quickly as she could, head down, avoiding the curious stares of men passing by. Twice a taxi slowed to creep alongside her, the driver inviting her in with his gestures. But she just shook her head. She wanted to walk. It would help order her thoughts and get rid of as many tears as she could before she got back to her hotel and woke her mother.
Running out on Tor without saying a word might have been a cowardly thing to do. But she couldn’t bear a prolonged goodbye in the morning. She knew she’d get too emotional. Especially after sleeping in each other’s arms through what was left of the night.
Yes, it’s better to get out while I can still think. If I spend even one more minute with that man, I’ll be so deeply in love that he’d have to pry me off him like an oyster from its shell.
Besides, leaving made her feel she had at least a little power in this thing that was far too much for her woman’s soft heart to handle. She knew it was better to make an exit at a high point. She didn’t want him to remember her as a weepy wretch.
Still sniffing, she let herself into her room, scaring the wits out of her mother. After explaining she had a headache and wanted to sleep in her own bed, Julie muffled her sobs until she heard Hannah’s soft breathing return to normal. Then she cried.
After a sleepless night, Julie washed the remnants of her lover from her aching body, packed her things and prepared to get on with the rest of her life. A life without Tor. She had a long day ahead of her. First, the bus ride to the Jordanian border, which could take anywhere from four to six hours. Then, there were the complications of passing out of Syria and into Jordan. There might be lineups—bureaucratic or otherwise. She’d already checked everyone’s visas, hoping like mad everything was in order so they wouldn’t be held up even longer. Last year had been a nightmare after one of the client’s visas was found to be mysteriously invalid. Julie never did find out why.
She forced herself to eat a breakfast she didn’t want. No one could predict where the next meal would be coming from, she reminded everyone. Services for travellers were undependable and distances were long. Last year their bus had broken down, she warned. And there would be no stops except maybe for a bathroom break between the Jordanian border and the capital city of Amman.
As she waited in the hotel lobby to make sure that all of their charges were packed, checked out, and ready to go, she couldn’t stop herself from watching the traffic on the street. She had this small hope that Tor would show up at her hotel in the morning to see her off. To kiss her goodbye.
Even as she’d walked home the night before she’d entertained the idea that once he got out of the shower and discovered she wasn’t there, he’d throw on his clothes and come running after her.
The fact he hadn’t made her sadder than she already was.
But by morning she was almost optimistic again, and she passed the time fantasizing that any minute now she would see him come roaring up to her hotel on his big bike.
But what would be the point?
She didn’t know what she wanted. She supposed her ego was bruised. When he had seemed less than enthused about sending her his photos, she’d been hurt.
Why can’t I just let it go? It was great. He was great. And I’m grateful for having met him.
The noise in the hotel lobby distracted her musings. Everyone was excited about this new leg of their journey. It was time to hit the road. Right on time, a hired minibus pulled up to the front door and Hannah went outside to meet the driver. Julie followed her, looking up one side of the road, then the other, and threw her suitcase into the cargo hold. No BMW to be seen. No surprise.
The journey to the border was as tedious and uncomfortable as Julie had predicted. The scenery was only slightly more interesting than the desert had been. Again, there was nowhere to stop for a meal. The border delays were long, but no longer than usual, and by early afternoon they were in Jordan and on their way to Amman.
Julie felt sad about leaving Syria. She liked it. The people were friendly and warm, the food was excellent, and the history was fascinating. She knew it would probably be a long time before she could ever return to the land where she fell in love with a Dane in the desert.
But right now she was in a different country. The sun was shining brightly in the blue sky, the breeze was soft, and the open road beckoned. Julie stared out at the horizon and began to muse.
I’m free, over twenty-one and I have a credit card in my pocket. Life could be worse.
She smiled and looked down at a copy of her group itinerary.
And this time, he knows where to find me…
To be continued…
About the Author
Serena is proud to say she was born in Vancouver, Canada. She now lives about one hundred miles away from that beautiful city, on a beautiful island, in a house called “Ocean Glimpses.”
Serena holds both a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree in English, and has taught university-level courses in literature and composition for many years. She loves to travel and her goal is to write a story or novel set in every one of the foreign countries she’s ever visited. This should take the rest of her life, she figures.
She and her husband share life with Mr. Bates, a grey-striped tabby named after a favorite character on the series Downton Abbey.
If you have enjoyed Mirage, the first book in the Tracking Tor series, please watch for Book Two, Oasis and Book Three, River.