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High-Risk Fever

20 Alle Pins252 Følgere
Erotic GLBT/gay multipartner/ménage published in November 2014.
Heavy rain assaulted the windows and the asphalt outside in a steady, monotonous beat. Playful gusts of wind toyed with the open shutters, provoking small creaks. Raindrops zigzagged on the glass panes in a random maze. If she had any time, she would take a pause to go to the window and watch the wet patterns form and change, dreamily losing herself in their dance.

Heavy rain assaulted the windows and the asphalt outside in a steady, monotonous beat. Playful gusts of wind toyed with the open shutters, provoking small creaks. Raindrops zigzagged on the glass panes in a random maze. If she had any time, she would take a pause to go to the window and watch the wet patterns form and change, dreamily losing herself in their dance.

The French Alps

The French Alps

The mirror reflected her beautiful evening dress, its sparkling black silk filling the room with glamour. Her generous cleavage had attracted looks from all around the table tonight, and she’d enjoyed the attention, but what did that help if two of the men were leaving? She went to the sink and leaned forward to check her makeup. Shiny brown eyes returned her intense look. But why are you so sad?

The mirror reflected her beautiful evening dress, its sparkling black silk filling the room with glamour. Her generous cleavage had attracted looks from all around the table tonight, and she’d enjoyed the attention, but what did that help if two of the men were leaving? She went to the sink and leaned forward to check her makeup. Shiny brown eyes returned her intense look. But why are you so sad?

Wind gusts played with the car like a marionette as they followed the winding lane, rain clattering on the roof. The wipers swooshed from side to side, sending waves of water backward. Though she didn’t dare drive too fast on the slippery asphalt, they would be home soon. In the bottom of a deep valley, a sharp turn made her pull the brakes—a good thing because a few meters farther, a fallen log barred the road, huge tentacle-like branches spread on the ground.

Wind gusts played with the car like a marionette as they followed the winding lane, rain clattering on the roof. The wipers swooshed from side to side, sending waves of water backward. Though she didn’t dare drive too fast on the slippery asphalt, they would be home soon. In the bottom of a deep valley, a sharp turn made her pull the brakes—a good thing because a few meters farther, a fallen log barred the road, huge tentacle-like branches spread on the ground.

She hoped the cold weather wouldn’t worsen Mica’s condition. If it did, his cough could turn lethal, and she wouldn’t know what to do then. The thought paralyzed her. She couldn’t think straight. Thank God his warm, encouraging hand tugged on hers and kept her going. They walked in silence at a steady pace, meeting no one along the road. It seemed the storm had put a stop to all activity on the mountain, and only the neediest, as in their case, dared put a foot outside.

She hoped the cold weather wouldn’t worsen Mica’s condition. If it did, his cough could turn lethal, and she wouldn’t know what to do then. The thought paralyzed her. She couldn’t think straight. Thank God his warm, encouraging hand tugged on hers and kept her going. They walked in silence at a steady pace, meeting no one along the road. It seemed the storm had put a stop to all activity on the mountain, and only the neediest, as in their case, dared put a foot outside.

Mica made it to the barn and they sought shelter inside, where hay lay on the floor and the smell of cattle hung in the air. He coughed hard, crouching before going down on his knees. Fearing for his life, she knelt next to him, pulled the hood of her raincoat back, and reached out to pat his back. Her pulse pounded in her ears. He turned to look at her, heaving, sweat beading on his pallid face and black hair sticking to his wet skin. He frowned. “Eh, bella, don’t cry.”

Mica made it to the barn and they sought shelter inside, where hay lay on the floor and the smell of cattle hung in the air. He coughed hard, crouching before going down on his knees. Fearing for his life, she knelt next to him, pulled the hood of her raincoat back, and reached out to pat his back. Her pulse pounded in her ears. He turned to look at her, heaving, sweat beading on his pallid face and black hair sticking to his wet skin. He frowned. “Eh, bella, don’t cry.”

A loud bang detonated somewhere over the village. She counted the seconds until the lightning strike. One, two. A sudden flash of white snuck in between the shutters, enough to reveal the side of Micaela’s face and his curving lips. Blackness took over again. Anne blinked, regretting the new loss of sight. Cold fingers reached out of the void and found her shoulders. She gasped and stepped backward, bumping into hard, horizontal bars—the shelves in the open closet. He followed her.

A loud bang detonated somewhere over the village. She counted the seconds until the lightning strike. One, two. A sudden flash of white snuck in between the shutters, enough to reveal the side of Micaela’s face and his curving lips. Blackness took over again. Anne blinked, regretting the new loss of sight. Cold fingers reached out of the void and found her shoulders. She gasped and stepped backward, bumping into hard, horizontal bars—the shelves in the open closet. He followed her.

Mica shrugged with a white-toothed grin and removed his pullover. Damp heat drifted to her, with the smell of musk and sweat. She couldn’t help breathing in his manly scent and wanting to memorize it. When he folded the sweater over the chair arm and straightened, she stifled a gasp of admiration. The man was better looking than any god from Greek mythology. Dim light shone on his tanned and perfectly sculpted torso. She could only gape and stare, transfixed. Blood pulsed in her temples.

Mica shrugged with a white-toothed grin and removed his pullover. Damp heat drifted to her, with the smell of musk and sweat. She couldn’t help breathing in his manly scent and wanting to memorize it. When he folded the sweater over the chair arm and straightened, she stifled a gasp of admiration. The man was better looking than any god from Greek mythology. Dim light shone on his tanned and perfectly sculpted torso. She could only gape and stare, transfixed. Blood pulsed in her temples.

Slumped in the passenger seat, Mica stared ahead, occasionally glancing at her without a word. His breathing sounded labored. At one point, he coughed so hard and long she thought he would choke, but she didn’t dare drive faster. The car lights were her only source of illumination. What if she missed a curve? After a dreadful time zigzagging through the windy countryside, a sign indicated they were closing in on the village entrance.

Slumped in the passenger seat, Mica stared ahead, occasionally glancing at her without a word. His breathing sounded labored. At one point, he coughed so hard and long she thought he would choke, but she didn’t dare drive faster. The car lights were her only source of illumination. What if she missed a curve? After a dreadful time zigzagging through the windy countryside, a sign indicated they were closing in on the village entrance.

She went back through the hall. Steam poured out of the open bathroom door, giving her an idea of what—or who—waited in the guest room. Pulse beating faster, she peeked inside. Sure enough, Mica stood in front of the bed with a white towel tied around his waist, long, wet hair hanging down his back, gazing at her. A smile widened across his gorgeous face. She drew a breath. What a hunk, despite the feverish glow of sickness in his dark eyes and the slight hunch of his shoulders.

She went back through the hall. Steam poured out of the open bathroom door, giving her an idea of what—or who—waited in the guest room. Pulse beating faster, she peeked inside. Sure enough, Mica stood in front of the bed with a white towel tied around his waist, long, wet hair hanging down his back, gazing at her. A smile widened across his gorgeous face. She drew a breath. What a hunk, despite the feverish glow of sickness in his dark eyes and the slight hunch of his shoulders.