Love In The Jungle (3 page)

Once he was gone, my heart rate finally slowed. I sought out
an uncomfortable blue chair with the rest of the commoners, waiting my turn to
board, all the while knowing there was a very small chance of seeing him again,
on the other side or otherwise.

Y
ou know, if anyone had ever told me that my plane
wouldn’t be flying because of an engine failure, I would have been relieved.
But here I was, stuck in a small airport hotel in Accra overnight, twiddling my
thumbs until it was time to go.

The flight from home to Ghana had been calm, cool, and
collected. Sure, there were a few crying babies here and there. Yes, the food
hadn’t been great, but then again, when was airplane food ever supposed to be
good? I watched a lot of movies, dozed for a good four hours, and tried not to
touch elbows with the guy sitting next to me, who’d been keen on territorial
expansion between our two seats. I had a bunch of books to read, but the cabin
pressure gave me a constant headache, making it downright impossible to focus
on any words. I probably should have expected that, considering I can’t read
any of the buses, trains, or cars. All in all, it was an uneventful flight.

I was able to easily grab my bag off of the carousel, and
head to the custom counter. . The airport had been littered with travelers from
all over the world—but not once had I seen Grant anywhere. As I’d predicted,
our chance encounter before the flight was probably the last I’d ever see of
him.

It wasn’t until I’d reached the section of the airport where
I needed to catch my connecting flight to Togo that I knew I’d be
delayed—again. Apparently, the small aircraft had been experiencing engine
problems since it landed after its previous flight. For safety, I’d been told
my flight had been cancelled tonight. Pushed to tomorrow at noon, I was now
stranded in a strange city, one Grant had called beautiful, with no idea where
to go or what to do.

Luckily I hadn’t needed to panic for long. The counter
attendant handed me over a stipend and a pass to use at a hotel nearby that
housed passengers from delayed and cancelled flights on a temporary basis.

I didn’t want to just sit around in a hotel room. I wanted
to see and do things—I wanted to be an adventurous traveler.

Unfortunately, the cab ride had been expensive and a little
dangerous, which sort of dampened my yearning to try new things. Sure, the
driver might have felt at ease whizzing through traffic, but I got to the hotel
wanting to vomit on the back of his seat. Even though I’d come over here to
find myself, I’d spent almost a full half-hour in the shower, then slept most
of the afternoon away.

Here I was, jetlagged and bored. I still had books to read,
a lot of them, more than six months’ worth. So, really, I could have spent the
night wrapped up in a good book.

“But where was the fun in that?” I said to myself.

Even though it was still a little sunny when I locked my
room and wandered down to the main floor, I wasn’t feeling brave enough to
peruse a new city on my on at night. I mean, I was about to spend six months
being adventurous; my restless spirit could wait another night before throwing
itself out there.

Despite being an airport hotel, I actually liked the place.
All the employees were friendly, and the hostess at the small restaurant
recommended trying the bar food over the dining room, whispering that the
better cook was in the bar section tonight when I arched an eyebrow at her.
Nodding, I took her not-so-subtle hint and made my way to the bar. Located at
the back of the hotel, it overlooked a grassy ravine, with some tables and
chairs outside on a small balcony. It wasn’t anything special in a decorative
sense. In fact, as I settled atop a barstool and grabbed a small menu nearby, I
couldn’t help but think it looked like a bar you might find in an actual
airport: franchised, without any special touches, and a little sterile.

Not that it mattered. My growling stomach wanted something
greasy and fatty, and I could do with a beer or two after the day—night?—I’d
just had in the air and on the ground.

After I’d decided on a burger and a plate of spinach dip,
plus a local beer, I closed my menu and set it aside. The bartender was busy
with two couples at the other end of the long wooden counter. Based on the
faint conversation I heard over the music and the various TVs placed
strategically around the bar, I guessed that they were British tourists.

I wonder where they were headed. I’d been told that I
wouldn’t be the only one traveling to Togo as a part of the volunteer effort,
but when I was at the airport, I didn’t take the time to look for my fellow
out-of-sorts volunteers. I should have. We could have gotten to know each other
at the hotel.

Drumming my fingers on the dark wood paneling, I nibbled my
lower lip, wishing I’d brought my book with me. I’d look like more of loner
reading a book at a bar, but at least it’d be a distraction while I waited for
my food. I wasn’t a sociable person; I had a decent group of friends and could
easily talk to strangers. But I was out of my element here. With nothing
familiar to grasp onto and no one making the first move, I felt uneasy
approaching a stranger and starting up a conversation with them.

I must have been nervous, having worked retail and PR for
most of my adult life, striking up a conversation with a stranger should have
been easy.

I’ll blame it on the jetlag.

Once he was finished taking care of the older British group,
the bartender made his way over to me and I was able to place my order.

“Would you like it delivered to your room?”

I shook my head, patting the countertop. “No, I think I’ll
sit down here.”

He nodded and disappeared without another word, just as I
drew a breath to start some friendly banter. Damn.

“Well, isn’t this a small world?”

I nearly fell off my chair when Grant climbed on to the
barstool next to mine, a grin spread wide across his handsome face. He looked
even fresher than I did, and my hair was still wet from the shower.
Clean-shaven, his hair tousled just right, he looked like he belonged more in a
fashion shoot than a sad airport hotel bar.

“No kidding,” I chuckled, turning on the spot to face him.
“It
is
a small world.”

“Please don’t sing the song,” he joked. He then ordered a
beer, raising his hand to catch the bartender’s gaze, and then turned his
attention back to me. “So, how was the flight with the common people?
Riveting?”

“Ha ha,” I groaned, making sure he saw me roll of eyes. “It
was beyond riveting, I’ll have you know.”

His eyebrows shot up, “That good, huh?”

“Better than you can possibly imagine.”

When the bartender delivered our drinks, I snatched mine and
took a big gulp. With my insides dancing and my heart racing, I had to wonder
if Grant made every girl feel like she was having a stroke? I was so thrilled
to see him that I didn’t even bother to ask why he was at this hotel in
particular. After all, don’t engineers make heaps of money? Engineers who fly
business class probably stay at five-star hotels in the city—not airport hotels
surrounded by roadways and nothingness.

As we grabbed our drinks and headed for a table, I decided
that it wasn’t the fact that I saw Grant specifically that made me so happy.
For some reason, he felt like a piece of home. He was the familiar face I
wanted.

“Do you mind if I join you for dinner?” he asked once a bus
boy dropped off a menu for him. “My flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow, and I
know for a fact that they make excellent nachos.”

Tomorrow, huh? That’s two coincidences for us. I couldn’t
help but wonder if there might be more. “Where are you headed?”

“Oh, here, there, everywhere,” he told me with a slight wave
of his hand and a chuckle. “Work never stops.”

I wasn’t offended that he wouldn’t give me specifics. I
mean, it made sense. Aside from our brief conversation at that café, we were
absolute strangers. I could learn a thing or two from him about not divulging
my life’s story to strangers while in a foreign country.

“Well, same here,” I said after downing the rest of my beer.
Wow where had all the beer gone? These glasses were freakishly small, but he
still seemed impressed that I’d managed to guzzle it down. Oh yeah, I’m a real
classy lady, friend. “And I’d be happy for some company… I ordered the burger.”

“Also spectacular,” he admitted. “I love eating here. People
don’t give it enough credit.”

I studied him for a moment, wanting to tell him that that
was a nice thing to say. However, before I could get the words out, my spinach
dip had arrived, along with a bowl of fresh bread to use for dipping. I noticed
Grant eyeing the arrival, his menu grasped in his large hands, and I pushed the
bread bowl toward him.

“Dig in, cowboy,” I laughed. “We can always order more…”

“You’re too kind.” I could hear the teasing in his voice as
he reached for the bread, and I tugged the bowl back quickly. My eyebrow arched
at him, and he cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Much better.” I wasn’t sure where my confidence had come
from, but I was glad it had finally reappeared. After the bartender dropped off
my second beer, I broke a piece of bread in half and dunked it in the green
dip.

“Delicious,” Grant said, wiping his dirtied fingers on a
napkin. “Good choice, m’lady.”

“Thanks,” I remarked, smiling again at the pet name. “Now,
Mr. Fancy Engineer… Tell me all about business class. I need to know what I
missed.”

“S
o here it is,” Grant said dramatically, throwing
the door to his room open and bowing low. “The piece de resistance.”

I poked my head in, arms crossed, and nodded. “Wow.”

“Isn’t she something?”

“Yeah,” I laughed, leaning into him when he straightened up
and placed his hand on my lower back—it had been there since we left the bar.
“It looks
exactly
like my room.”

“I’ve been told that before,” he murmured, saying the words,
his voice low and husky, in my ear. My skin prickled with excitement. I wasn’t
sure how we’d gone from discussing the pros and cons of flying with private
seats (cue Grant’s endless stories about all the amazing airlines he’d flown
with) to touching and giggling and whispering on the way to his room, but here
we were.

I definitely wasn’t going to complain. I wasn’t drunk; we’d
spent a few hours chatting, and the effects of the few beers I guzzled when he
first arrived had faded. I was left instead with a tingly feeling in my hands,
a full feeling in my stomach, and a deliriously giddy feeling in my head. I’d
never had someone as handsome as Grant, with his bright eyes and the effortless
way he carried himself, focus his attention on me and me alone for so long.

I knew, in part, it was because we were two almost
acquaintances in a strange place who had a small spark of connection. I bet if
I’d chatted with anyone else and the conversation had been amicable and
they
were sitting at the bar, I would have sat with them for dinner too.

But there was something about him… something that made me
nervous, but in the best way possible. Maybe that same thing encouraged me to
shift my chair closer, to not flinch back when our legs accidentally brushed
against one another under the table.

I guess that “thing” also helped me find the courage to step
into his room. As I crossed the threshold, I let out the small breath I’d been
holding, trying my best to keep up the game we’d set in motion hours ago.

“As you can see,” Grant continued as he shut the door behind
us. He didn’t lock it, perhaps for my benefit. I could appreciate that. “There
is a lovely double bed… roomy without being obnoxious. A stellar bathroom with
all the necessary amenities…”

I peered into the bathroom, which was to the immediate right
as soon as I stepped into the suite. Exactly like my room, his countertop was
the same faux-marble vanilla. Unlike my room, however, the space wasn’t
littered with toiletries. No, there was a single unopened black bag tucked
neatly in the corner, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d find inside.

“It truly is a spectacular sight,” I noted, putting on my
snootiest accent. He chuckled as I stepped away from the bathroom, his hands
suddenly falling to my hips. Both hands, both large… warm hands. His fingers
curved around me, and I couldn’t help but stare. There was a brief pause in our
game, as if he was asking me if this was acceptable, and I responded by leaning
back against him again.

Standing so close, back to chest, I realized I’d almost
forgotten how tall he was. I tilted my head back, my eyes wandering from his
bright blues to his slim, kissable lips. Like every other part of him, they
were beyond attractive. I licked mine instinctively, drawing in a tentative
breath. He mirrored me exactly, but as I eased my face toward his, he raised
his arm and pointed to the window.

“Have you seen the view?”

I arched my back as his other arm slid around my snuggly,
pulling me back against his hard body—it was obvious where this game was
headed.

“I like
this
view,” I murmured. While bright and blue
as ever, it was like his gaze had darkened with desire, with need. I also felt
both of those in the way his hips pressed up against my backside, a telltale
sign of lust from him igniting something in me.

“Me too.”

His words were cut off, muffled, as I tilted my head back
and pressed my lips to his. The time for games was over. The time for polite
niceties about our travel plans could wait. All I knew was that I wanted him,
right here and now, and I wasn’t going to leave until that happened. He
responded in kind, hoisting me up once I’d turned in his arms, my hands cupping
his face.

There was no hesitation from either of us. I realized I was
trembling a little, but with anticipation, with want. Grant set me down on his bed,
just as squishy and well-used as mine was, and I clung to the front of his
shirt as I lay back, dragging him down with me.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he
managed to get out between kisses, and I threw my head back with a moan in
response. His lips wandered from mine to my jaw, then down my neck. His hands,
those big, strong hands, roamed my body, pausing to pluck at my breasts through
my shirt. He hesitated after brushing his parted mouth over my collarbone, my
chest heaving with every gasp I drew. “Although, I guess I’d know if you weren’t
interested…”

“Shut up,” I whispered, half-dragging him toward me for
another hungry kiss. Our lips parted on impact, tongues testing the waters by
lightly brushing against one another. This was happening. I wasn’t the kind of
person who enjoyed one-night stands. I’d always thought they were impersonal—sex
wasn’t fun when you didn’t know the other person’s body very well.

But this was different. Every time he touched me,
electricity shot through me. It was like we’d been lovers for years, our moves
in sync and strangely coherent, coordinated even. I went for the bottom of his
shirt just as he flicked open the button on my jeans. Our eyes met, and we both
let out nervous chuckles.

“Ladies first?”

My eyebrows shot up, and I nodded down to his shirt, “Nope.”

Grant rolled his eyes with a small smile, and I inhaled
sharply as he drew his shirt over his head. I don’t know why I’m surprised that
he’d totally ripped, but I guess a small part of me had hoped he wasn’t a total
and utter god: he needed some flaws, but I could appreciate the abs for a
night.

I sat up and ran my hands over his abdomen, watching as he
twitched under the touch.

“Ticklish?” I asked, holding back my giggles as he danced
out of reach. I lay there, propped up my elbows, my legs dangling over the edge
of the bed, as Grant stood between my knees. He gave no answer to my question,
but instead grabbed my pants and started tugging. I lifted my hips to help, and
for once, I wasn’t shy about my nudity. Not even when he hooked a finger under
the band of my underwear and dragged it down.

Thank goodness I’d kept everything tidy. I hadn’t been
expecting to be naked in front of anyone while on a volunteer trip, but at
least I’d had to good sense to prepare. I yanked my shirt over my head, then
unclipped the back of my bra. Both garments fell away, and a heated flush
painted across my body, moving with Grant’s gaze. It wasn’t a leer. No, this
was an appreciative study, as if he were a scholar examining fine art.

It was strange that I felt so… valued.

He crawled back over me, grinning, and I managed to push his
trousers down as best I could with my limited reach. Our kiss was tender this
time, gentle and unhurried, broken only when he nudged a finger into me. And
then another. My body clenched, pleasure shooting out from my core as he worked
me over. He was skilled with his hands, but I guess I shouldn’t expect anything
less.

I groaned, my hands digging into his shoulders, as I climbed
nearer and nearer to that pleasurable crest, his fingers driving me crazy.
Then, just before I could finish, he stopped. I let out a disappointed whimper
and finally opened my eyes. He was in the process of shedding his pants,
revealing toned thighs with light hair—and a prominent bulge that immediately
caught my attention. I swallowed nervously. It had been a while since I’d been
with anyone, and even with his boxers on, I knew he wasn’t an average-sized
guy.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” he told me as he fished
his wallet out of his pants. I watched him grab a condom, holding it up between
us. “I don’t want to be presumptuous about anything—”

“Put that damn thing on before I rip it out of your hands,”
I ordered, blushing at the way he smiled at me. I lay back, listening to the
crinkling of the wrapper, and drew in a shallow breath when he climbed back on
top of me. Then, before I had a chance to react, he grabbed my waist and rolled
us over, setting me on top of him.

From this position, I was in control. I reached back to rub
him, my eyes widening at the girth. He licked his lips, a small groan slipping
free when I squeezed. Not wanting to prolong either of our agonies, I lifted
myself up and slowly slid down his entire length. There was no resistance: his
fingers had given me a pretty solid warm-up. I moaned breathily, pleasurable
jolts shooting through my body as he filled me.

We took it slow at first. Gentle rocks. The occasional swirl
of my hips. His hands resting on my waist—sometimes lower. But then it became
too much, too difficult to go slowly. I started to ride him, one hand on his
chest and the other running through my hair. He thrust up and into me, matching
my pace, our mingled grunts and moans uncensored.

It was probably pretty obvious what we were doing to our
neighbors.

And I didn’t care.

Grant rolled us over one last time, my arms locked around
him, and pounded into me until I cried out, a powerful orgasm tearing through
me.

Wow. Can’t say I’ve ever seen stars before with a guy,
especially not with a guy who I’d only just met. Hell, it took some old
boyfriends months before I even peaked when we were in bed together, and here
Grant was, getting me off on the first try. Clearly I needed to invest some
more time in engineers.

He followed shortly after me, his hips stuttering against
mine as he groaned into my mouth. I felt the way he flushed after, his heated
skin pressed to mine. The hard kiss eased off, relaxing as we did, until we lay
side by side, lazily kissing. Our hands roamed freely, and I didn’t feel the
need to cover up or make a mad dash for the door.

This was the best one-night stand I’d ever had, but I knew
it was going to be my last one for six months. Why not make the most of it?
Besides, once I left his room, we probably weren’t ever going to see each other
again. I had no reason to be shy. Why tailor anything about myself for a guy
who wouldn’t remember my name in a week’s time? In the past, it might have
bothered me. The thought of a guy getting in my pants with no intention of
committing to at least a little dating wasn’t something I hoped for, but what
did it matter now?

Tonight was a write-off. We’d go our separate ways, him
leading his glamorous lifestyle with his high-flying career, and me to
volunteer in rural Togo. That didn’t bother me. In fact, this was probably one
of the few one-night stands in my life that I wouldn’t regret.

Once we’d recovered, my hand wandered down his body, a
mischievous look in my eye, and my kiss told him everything he’d want to know:
I was ready for round two.