Page 37 of Colombian Chemistry

“It’s embarrassing!” I argued back as I tried to get the one lone button on my dress to do the job of the twenty that had popped off. It didn’t work.

His eyes raked up and down my body, and I flushed at the way his gaze heated my skin. When his eyes made it back up to mine, he said, “Take off your dress.”

“What?” My eyes bulged as I stared back at him. It was exactly what I’d been fantasizing about, having him rip off my clothes and take me on the jungle floor, but as the reality of his suggestion sunk in, I froze. Did he seriously want to do this right now?

He reached down around his waist, and in one swoop, he pulled his white, dirt-stained t-shirt over his head. I struggled to swallow as I took in the sight of his shirtless torso. Every impeccable, rock-hard, perfectly contoured inch of it. Even his abs had abs, and I realized it was the first time in my life I’d been this close to a man with a six-pack. Or maybe it was eight. Or a man with pec muscles that looked so firm and contoured I wanted to reach out and touch them to see if they were as hard as they looked. Maybe I could pretend I just wanted to examine the dog tags hanging around his neck, then let my fingers slip down to examine him. I also wanted to trace my fingers over the scars etched across his tanned skin, curious how he got each one.

“What are you doing?” I asked. In my mind, I still hoped that one of those hot and heavy jungle sex fantasies was coming true. Would he pin me up against a tree and take me standing up? He was certainly strong enough to hold me up, and I’d seen sex like that in a few movies, though I’d never experienced it. But as I envisioned all the ways he might ravish me in positions I’d never imagined someone like missionary-style me could do, I remembered the murderers just behind us and knew Marcus wouldn’t stop for nookie while we were running for our lives.

“You can wear my t-shirt like a dress. It will cover up more of you than that.”

“Oh,” I whispered as I understood his meaning. It still didn’t stop me from envisioning the jungle sex.

“Just hurry up. We need to get moving.”

“Can you turn around?”

He crossed his arms, and it caused his pecs to flex. “Seriously? I’ve seen your skivvies already.”

“This is embarrassing. I just want you to know I don’t normally wear such ugly underwear.”

Lie. I did. Unless I knew I was getting some romance, which was rare, I always went for comfort. And these high-waisted cotton briefs may be unsightly, but they hadn’t ridden up my ass even once while we were running through the jungle. I thought maybe I should go online and write a review about that.

Five stars. Great underwear. Very comfortable. Don’t budge even when you’re running through the jungle with a hottie secret spy and the Colombian cartel on your trail.

“Just hurry up,” Marcus said, then turned around.

The back of him was as impressive as the front. His broad shoulders bulged with the muscles stretching over his wide back. I noticed more scars peppering his skin, many looking similar to the ones on the front, some long slashes, others round holes. No doubt stab wounds and bullet holes. It boggled my mind to think what this man had been through in his life to get such a canvas of scars as a reminder of his days.

I pulled his t-shirt over my head and tugged it down over my ass. It didn’t cover as much as I would have liked, but it covered more than my torn dress.

“Done?” he asked.

“Yeah. Thank you. It’s better than nothing.”

Marcus turned around and raked me with a gaze. He lifted an eyebrow as he pursed his lips together. “My t-shirt looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” I asked, trying not to smile like a giddy schoolgirl.

“Yeah.”

After a moment of silence that went on too long, and a look from him I couldn’t mistake as impressed, he shook his head.

“Okay. So, you’ve got some clothes, and we need to get to the river. It’s not far. Let’s go.”

“Wait! What about Cheech and Chong?”

“They aren’t far from home. They’ll wander back in no time.”

“Are you sure? I may not have wanted to ride a donkey for reasons that actually happened... the reasons I warned you about.” I cleared my throat and lifted an accusatory eyebrow. “But I don’t want them to be harmed.”

“They won’t. Donkeys are extremely resilient and smart. And so am I. So, let’s go.”

This time he didn’t take my hand when he turned and started deeper into the jungle. Though I was sad not to have his touch, it also let me walk far enough back to get a full sight of every last inch of him.

Damn. It’s gonna be a good view to Bogotá.

CHAPTER NINE