Colette Gale - [The Erotic Adventures of Jane in the Jungle Part II] (5 page)

Yes, Jonathan had given her to Kellan with his blessing. His
permission
. Why or how would he do such a thing? And how could she have enjoyed it?

Her cheeks flamed hotter. As strange and unsettling as it had been, she couldn’t deny that she’d found pleasure beneath two sets of hands, pinioned between two bodies. So much pleasure that she could hardly walk, and wasn’t even certain she had the energy to speak.

“Jane, come sit with me,” her fiancé said. “You were so incredibly lovely tonight.”

She wanted to talk to him about it, to rail at him…but she didn’t want to do so in front of Kellan. His dark eyes followed her as she made her way to sit next to Jonathan, sinking to the ground next to him. The flare of lust was there, as it had always been. She shivered. But now he knew…now he’d tasted her.

Would he want more?

Did she? Her arsehole twinged at the thought. A tight, sharp reminder that she’d reached an orgasm unlike anything she’d experienced.

As if reading her mind, Kellan said, “You seem to have enjoyed losing your second maidenhead, Jane.” His smile could only be described as a satisfied leer. “It was my pleasure to induct you into that particular form of eroticism.”

“Now, Kel,” Jonathan said, smoothing his hand roughly over the top of Jane’s head and down over her long curls. “Don’t mortify her. Jane is a proper lady.”

“What did you mean, he promised you?” Jane finally found the words. She looked at Kellan, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as she could muster. The fog was beginning to fade.

Kellan was taking a drink from his cup—a vessel she recognized as being from the treehouse. He’d been well-prepared when he came to join them. As he pulled the mug away, he smiled. “I made no secret of my attraction for you. Jon helped with that by telling me stories of your passion and how responsive you were.”

“But Jonathan, why would you—”

Her fiancé smiled at her fondly. “What else were we to do on that long ocean voyage, all those days and nights of nothing to do? I love you and was proud of you and couldn’t stop thinking of you, Jane. And these last three years, I dreamt of you every night. I missed you so.”

Before she could respond, he pulled her face toward his, covering her mouth with full, demanding lips. He tasted of whiskey, strong and pungent. His hand slipped down to pull the blanket away, but Jane dragged it back up. She twisted her face from his and sat back, breathing heavily. “Jonathan, what are you doing?”

He gave a low chuckle. “Such fire you have, Jane, darling. It matches your hair. I love to see you riled.” His eyes, she saw now, were glazed. He was very drunk.

“Jane.” Kellan’s voice drew her attention from Jonathan, and she turned. Their eyes met across the flames, and she saw at once that though Jonathan was in his cups, his friend was not only dressed, but fully sober. For some reason, this realization made her become even more alert.

“What did you mean about Jonathan promising you? What did he promise?” she asked.

“I promised him,” Jonathan said, his words a little slurred, “if I ever saw you again…if he brought you to me…he could—”

“What do you mean, if you ever saw me again?” For the first time since waking, Jane sat up straight, at full attention.

“Jane, darling…as much as I appreciate the view,” Kellan broke in, “you must take care with that blanket. It’s nearly in the fire.” His gaze dropped pointedly to her bare breasts. “If you’re chilled, come sit next to me. I would be happy to warm you.”

She yanked the blanket up again, trying to make sense of a conversation that stopped and started and followed detours. “What did he mean?” she demanded of Kellan. “How could he have known he wouldn’t see me again? And why would he—”

Kellan was shaking his head. “No, no, Jane…he’s not making sense. I know. He’s had too much whiskey. Forgive him. He is still suffering from shock at finding you again. And it’s been many years since he drank whiskey—I daresay he wasn’t prepared for the result.”

“Tell me why you said that,” she insisted.

“It was a jest we both made when we first arrived here in Madagascar. A poorly-timed jest, frankly, in which he promised if he ever saw you again, he’d allow me to…well, Jane…knowing what I know about you, and your…passionate nature, I’m sure you wondered what it would be like with two men.” His eyes were little more than dark spots in his shadowed face. “And you’re too much of a proper lady to actually agree to such a thing…even though you clearly enjoyed it. Didn’t you?”

She swallowed hard. How could it be? He was correct. She had enjoyed it…yet….

“It happened we made that joke the very night before Jonathan became lost,” Kellan explained. “Poor timing, and yet…it all worked out well, did it not?” He reached out his hand for her. “I made no secret how I felt about you Jane. Surely you cannot hold it against me, that I desire you.”

“But it wasn’t Jonathan’s permission to
give
,” she told him, at last finding the strength to be angry. She ignored his hand. “It was mine.”

Before Kellan could respond, a low growl rolled through the night. Jane gasped and turned to look into the shadows. Kellan jumped to his feet and snatched up his rifle as Jonathan staggered upright.

“Leopard,” Kellan said, aiming his firearm into the darkness. The tall grass waved eerily in a non-existent breeze.

“An angry one from the sound,” Jonathan said, dragging his shirt on with awkward movements. “I’ll get a torch.”

Jane pulled to her feet, heart pounding, staring into the darkness. Would the beast come charging into the clearing? She edged away from the shadows, clinging to her blanket.

The growl came again, followed by a roar that sent a horrible shiver down her spine. “It’s coming closer!” she cried just as Jonathan said, “It’s angry! It must have a mate or den nearby—”

“Or a kill,” Kellan said. His voice was grim and he aimed his rifle into the shadows. “I hope we aren’t between it and whatever it’s after.”

Jane looked frantically around for her clothing and finally spied the white bundle. She wanted more than a simple blanket between her and an infuriated leopard. But before she could even pick up the chemise, there was a loud rustle. This time it came from a different direction. Behind her.

A chill ran down her spine. Was Kellan right? Were they caught between the cat and its mate or kits?

“Quick, Jane, climb up that tree,” Jonathan said. His voice no long slurred, but was tight with alarm. He lifted a long, thick stick from the fire, flames blazing from it.

She stumbled toward the tree he indicated, all the while watching with wide eyes as the two men faced the shadows, back to back. Kellan’s rifle seemed puny in comparison to the mental image she had of a leopard. Another growl rumbled through the dark, closer. She fancied she could see its eyes, glowing from the shadows. The sight raised the hair on the back of her neck and she scrabbled for the lowest branch of the tree.

It was barely possible to hold the blanket in place and attempt to climb, but Jane managed to do so. At least she’d have some protection against the rough bark or the sharp, fine twigs that might scratch her sensitive skin. She pulled herself up with great effort, climbing onto a nearby stump to help. She was crawling onto the second-lowest branch just as a massive cat streaked into the clearing in a long, low pounce. He was no more than a man’s height below her.

She bit her lip, holding back a scream as Kellan fired. He either missed or the bullet was no deterrent, for the leopard—sleek in its spotted golden coat—gave no pause. It landed in front of the two men with a roar.

Jonathan swung the torch at the feline as Kellan dodged its great, clawed paw. The cat reared back, ready to strike. Jane, already climbing to the next branch, saw the way its fur rose along its spine. It was infuriated. She couldn’t see its face, for she was too high. But she imagined glowing green eyes and pointed fangs.

She wanted to cry out
Be careful, Jonathan!
, but she knew better than to distract him. In fact…she suddenly took note of her environment. Was there something she could do to distract the cat? Even injure it?

She put her hand down on a nearby branch, leaning forward into the thick branches of the trees growing close to hers.
The branch moved.

Jane screamed as the smooth, dry scales of a snake registered in her mind. She jolted back and away, nearly losing her balance in the tree, and then…before she could think too hard about it, she jabbed at the thick body of the snake with another branch. It stiffened and hissed, as thick as her wrist, coiling itself together. But the head was in the opposite direction and she must have taken it by surprise, perhaps waking it. Jane gave a good, sharp jab at the head with the forked stick to hold it off, then used her hand to yank the creature off the branch. She flung it away and watched it fall, tumbling in a tangled mass to the ground.

Bile rose in her throat as she realized what she’d done: she’d
touched a snake
. She’d not only touched a snake, but she’d poked at it, lifted it, pulled it, thrown it to the ground….

Whether it was a poisonous snake or otherwise dangerous, she didn’t want to know. She simply tried to keep from vomiting (it could have bitten her!) and looked down. She saw that the snake landed in the middle of the clearing, in front of the leopard.

And the snake was furious.

It rose in front of the cat and, as Jane watched, Jonathan and Kellan tried to circle around from behind. The leopard and snake seemed intent upon each other, and the two men began to ease away toward the edge of the clearing. They could disappear into the darkness and they would be safe.

Jane was about to call out to them to go, when the tree in which she was perched gave the faintest shiver. And then all at once
he
was there.

The wild man.

She would have gasped, or even screamed, if she hadn’t been so startled. If it hadn’t been so sudden, his appearance…as if from thin air. As it was, she merely stopped breathing for a moment.

He crouched on an adjacent branch, his eyes meeting hers in the moonlight. They were close enough that she smelled the cinnamon essence on his breath and the fresh, jungle scent that always accompanied him. His broad, muscular shoulders were glazed with silvery light, and one hand rose, grasping a thick liana vine above his head. The bulge of muscle in his flexed arm was outlined and Jane found herself breathing again. Rapidly. Heat rushed through her.

Before she could react, he reached for her, curling an arm around her waist, lifting her toward him. And the next thing she knew, they were airborne, swinging past branches, through leaves…and
up
.

Jane gasped as he landed surefooted on a wide branch much higher off the ground than her perch. By now, she was clinging to him, her arms around his neck, his warm, firm torso pressed against hers….

And she realized with a shock that somewhere along the way, the blanket had slipped from her grasp. She was naked, her breasts wedged against his chest, her bare legs straddling his cloth-covered waist. The graze of the hair on his thighs brushed against her sensitive skin, and she had to lift her face to keep from burying it in a warm, male-scented shoulder.

Then she forgot her immodesty, for they were gliding through the air once more. So smoothly and rapidly, it was as if they were flying. And not like the hot air balloons back home that merely floated wherever the wind took them, but with speed and dexterity. Her loose hair ruffled, fluttering and tangling behind them. His muscles bunched and stretched, sleek and firm, and as they swung from vine to vine, the leaves brushed over her like a gentle breeze.

How did he know where to reach in this darkness? How did he so unerringly find the next vine in the shadows? The thought made her tense for a moment and close her eyes, as if to ward off the possibility that they might suddenly tumble to the ground.
 

Then Jane relaxed. He showed no hesitation in his movements. He obviously had been traveling like this for a long time. He was as skilled as the sweet little chimps she’d seen at the circus, and had yet to see here.

But this man was no sweet little chimp.

As she clung to him, Jane couldn’t banish the memory of the night he visited her in her treehouse bedchamber. His hands were gentle, almost reverent. His eyes covered her, drinking in the sight of her as if she were some great object of beauty. But his mouth…his gentle, exploratory, sleek mouth, buried between her legs….

Jane’s mouth went dry as she remembered him, lifting his face from her wet, swollen quim, and meeting her eyes in the low light. His lips were full and glistened from her juices, and his firm hand still curled darkly against her thigh. She invited him to her, beckoning him close…and then he heard the snake rustling across the floor.

Whatever might have happened between them was interrupted as the wild man battled the snake, writhing on the floor with the massive reptile. Jane retrieved her pistol and got close enough to shoot it in the head while he held it still. Then he disappeared through the window when everyone else came to investigate the ruckus, and Jane was left satisfied—oh, indeed—and yet wanting more.

She couldn’t contain a small shiver of anticipation. What would happen now?

Where was he taking her?

Her question was soon answered when they landed on the massive branch of a wide-reaching tree. To her surprise, the spread of branches held a treehouse, smaller and less complicated than her own.