clothes so slowly, in an effort to prolong the pleasure of submission,
that she felt a stab of frustration.
She still found him physically desirable.
His tanned body, his
delicate features, his neatly defined eyebrows and his glossy shock of
black hair, aroused her as much as when she had first seen him.
When
she saw his half-unbuttoned shirt, she wanted to open it completely,
cover one of his nipples with her mouth, and tantalise the other with
her fingers.
It was a caress he thoroughly enjoyed.
She remembered the first time she had let her tongue travel over his
smooth skin, tasting him, feeling the ridges of his bones, and then
moving up to find his nipple and gently tease it.
He had let out a
startled yelp of pleasure, and for a moment she thought he wanted her
to stop.
But as her head moved away, he caught hold of her, and pulled
her back.
Tiease," he said.
"Do it."
And then later: "Is this how it feels for a woman?
Is this
how it feels when I touch your breasts?"
"I don't know," she murmured.
"How does it feel?"
"It's painful, but wonderful," he said.
"Your tongue and your teeth nipping me it's unbearable.
But I don't
want you to stop."
"Painful?
Wonderful?
Don't stop?
Please stop?"
She laughed.
"I think you need to sort yourself out, young man."
It became a private joke between them: don't stop, please stop.
Now
she sat next to him on the bed, and let her hand stray down over over
his flat abdomen towards the dark tangle of his pubic hair.
She
circled his upright cock in her hand, and then bent over and took him
in her mouth.
After a few minutes she released him, and asked: "How
did that feel?
He was panting now, his hips thrusting convulsively.
He mumbled
something, his eyes closed and his face contorted.
"Don't stop, or please stop?"
she prompted.
"Don't stop," he gasped.
"Don't stop, please."
"Please."
He put his hands on her head and tried to push her down on
him again.
But she evaded him, and, moving with a speed that took him
completely by surprise, flipped him over on his face.
Then she
straddled him and reached between his legs, grasping his balls roughly.
He let out a strangled yelp of pain.
"Leonardo," she said, close to his ear.
"You've been gossiping about me."
"I have not," he protested.
She tightened her grip.
"You know an American called Felix Connaught?"
He paused, and she shook him, eliciting another yelp.
"Yes," he admitted.
"What have you told him about me?"
"Nothing."
She twisted his balls a little.
"Don't lie.
I met him last night."
"I didn't tell him much," Leonardo gasped.
"Only that you are sympathetic to the Indians.
That you are a kind
person.
He's my friend.
He would like to be your friend, too."
She kept hold of him.
"Perhaps I'd prefer to choose my own friends, Leonardo."
"He can tell you about Lohaquin."
Leonardo was wriggling and bucking
now, and Jacey found it difficult to hold on to him.
She had excited
him so much that he was rapidly losing control.
Taking pity on him, she loosened her hand, and grasped his cock
instead.
He came almost at once, with a long cry of delight.
After
his-body had calmed, she allowed him to turn over.
"Felix Connaught is Lohaquin, isn't he?"
she said.
She had hoped to catch him by surprise, but he simply gave her a
startled look and then smiled.
"No, no," he said.
"He isn't."
"How do you know?"
she insisted.
"You once told me you'd never seen Lohaquin."
"Felix is not Lohaquin," he said.
"I'm certain of it."
"Has Felix seen him?"
Leonardo shrugged.
"Why don't you ask him?"
He smiled.
Rather smugly, she thought.
"When you visit him."
Jacey knew immediately from Paulo's enthusiastic greeting that he
trusted her again.
He chattered nonstop in the car, driving her to the
outskirts of Techtatuan, then to a badly made road that led to the edge
of the rain forest, and finally along a track so bumpy that she feared
for the car's rickety suspension.
Felix Connaught lived in a rambling bungalow built from natural
materials, with a covered veranda.
It was surrounded by tall trees and
tangled undergrowth, and close to a river.
In an area of cleared
ground around his house, he grew vegetables and large clumps of exotic
flowers.
Felix came to meet them in his usual faded Levis and open-necked shirt.
Jacey noted a neat patch on the shirt's sleeve.
The metal bracelet
gleamed on his wrist.
He handed her a cool drink in a tall glass.
"Welcome to my home, Dr.
Muldaire."
"Jacey," she said, taking the drink.
Paulo left to make a quick visit his own village, which was not far
away.
Felix led Jacey to the veranda, where two chairs stood
waiting.
Jacey sipped at the refreshing, citrus drink.
"My own recipe," Felix said, when she complimented him on it.
"The rain forest supplies the flavours, and the river keeps it cool."
"Don't you buy anything from Techtatuan?"
she asked.
"Very little," he said.
"If I haven't already got it, and the rain forest doesn't supply it, I
do without it."
He smiled at her.
"Which means I have most of the things I really need."
"Did you build this bungalow?"
He shook his head.
"My parents built it.
They came to Guachtal thirty-six years ago, when
I was three.
My father was an engineer who was fed up with the rat
race, and my mother was a doctor.
She wanted to help people.
I don't
know why they chose Guachtal, but I do know that once they made their
decision, there was no going back.
They sold everything, and came here
with the family rocking chair which I still have some crockery and
cutlery, and a lot of books.
Everything else they obtained by barter,
or made for themselves.
They loved the Indians, and their culture, and
the way the rain forest sustained them.
My mother found that the Indians didn't need her medicine; they had
their own.
She spent years studying it.
My father used his
engineering skills to build irrigation systems, and turned himself into
quite a passable farmer.
He kept us alive, anyway."
"And you're interested in medicine, too?"
she guessed.
"Because I was at the healing ceremony?"
He grinned at her
engagingly.
"I have a confession to make.
I went there to meet you.
I arranged it
with Paloma."
"I get the feeling I've been manipulated," she said rather crossly.
"Only nicely so he said.
"I did want to see the mochto again.
We're old friends."
He gave her
an intense look.
"And I wanted to meet you face to face.
I need to do that, before I
trust someone completely."
"And you trust me completely?"
she asked.
He nodded.
"I do now."
He smiled again.
It was an attractive smile, she thought.
Friendly and sexy at the same time.
"I asked several people about you first," he said.
"People whose judgement I respect.
That's the way I usually play it, and it's worked for me so far."
He
stood up suddenly and went inside the bungalow.
When he came out he
was carrying a large pottery jar.
He put it on the small table next to
her chair.
"Home-made biscuits," he said.
"Help yourself.
Very healthy.
I think you'll like them."
Jacey took a biscuit.
It was thick and knobbly, and tasted of nuts and
spice.
"So why are you so interested in Lohaquin?"
Felix asked casually.
"Am I?"
she parried.
"Yes," he said.
"You are."
"He's mysterious," she said lightly.
"A ghostly eco-warrior living in the rain forest.
That's
interesting."
Felix looked at her quizzically.
"You can do better than that, Dr.
Muldaire."
"OK," she said.
"How about this?
There seems to be a lot of inequality in Guachtal.
Maybe if a rebel army marched into Techtatuan they could even things