“Oh, yeah, the lightbulb has finally gone on in my head. The gig is up, baby.”
“Stop interfering with my concentration.” She flashed him a quick glower of confusion, then clipped out, “What gig?”
Oh, she is good, but I’m not going to fall for her innocent act this time. “It’s one of those lamebrained Army war game things. Throw a bunch of clueless grunts out in a field and pretend they’re under attack from an enemy. Real gunfire. Danger. Teach them to survive. Well, I’ve had enough of this stupid shit. Call it off. Now.”
“You are delusional. What logical point would there be in the Army having 1800’s Mexican outlaws as the mock enemy?”
“How the hell should I know? And who said the Army ever feels a need to be logical?”
Momentarily distracted, Helen didn’t see Pablo make a lunge for her. In seconds, the young bandit wrestled her to the ground and bound her hands. She screeched like a banshee and issued some dire threats, but Pablo didn’t appear fazed… until Helen shrieked and bucked him off, kneeing him in the nuts in the process.
“Oow! Oow!” Pablo cried in pain, rolling over on his back and drawing his knees up to his chest. “Mi cojones! Mi cojones!”
“Stop yer bawling, or I’ll fix you so you can’t ever do no balling again,” Ignacio lashed out. He made a crude gesture at his genitals to explain his double meaning.
Pablo blanched and cupped his groin with both hands.
Clambering upright — a clumsy effort with her hands bound behind her — Helen shot Rafe a condemning glare. “That was your fault.”
“Mine? What did I do?”
“I’m well-trained in self-defense. I could have gotten us out of this fix. You deliberately distracted me.”
“I did not. Besides, I plan on getting us out of this fix myself, in my own good time, in my way.”
She made a very unflattering snort of disbelief.
Obviously, Helen considered him a total wimp. He gritted his teeth. She was really starting to irritate him.
“I’m the officer in charge here. You should obey me. Army regulations say you should — ”
“Chill the hell out! You and your effin’ Army are giving me a headache. Not to mention a stomachache. And a backache.”
The eyes of the three bandits darted back and forth between them.
Affronted, Helen tossed her hair over her shoulders as best she could with her arms bound behind her and threw her shoulders back with stubborn pride. “I resent your continual ridicule of the military. Just because you…”
She continued to work up a good head of steam, rattling on in defense of good old Uncle Sam, but Rafe stopped listening. All his attention was riveted on her breasts, which strained against the fabric of her blouse with her arrogant stance.
Pablo’s eyes were glued to the same enticing location.
Rafe wondered if her nipples were small and hard and –
“Stop that!” Helen demanded.
“Wh-what?” Uh oh! Caught in the act.
“Ogling.”
“I don’t ogle.” I wonder if that’s one of those Wonder Bras, or if it’s all Helen.
“Yeah, right.”
Suddenly, Helen’s eyes latched onto his bound hands, then peered behind at her own restraints. “Oh, God, you wouldn’t! Surely, even you wouldn’t carry your depraved tastes this far.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, what am I being accused of now?”
“Bondage.”
“I beg your pardon,” he choked out.
“This is one of those sexual fantasy things men dream about, right?”
Taken aback, he blinked at her. “You think this is a sex game?”
“Yep, and I’m not playing, you… you pervert. Oh, I knew you were sex crazed when you made those remarks on the plane about wall-banging, and when you kissed m on the ground, and — ”
“Sex crazed! Sex crazed!” he sputtered out. “Puh-leeze!” Then laughter bubbled up from his throat. “I’m in a Stephen King nightmare with General Patton’s clone just engaged in a two-man dive on one parachute. Ever muscle in my body aches from being battered. And you think I want to jump your bones. Well, why didn’t you ask honey? Let me pull the whip and chains out of my pocket.”