Beyond Redemption Read Free

categorized as an adequate roll in the hay.”
    That last bit had been uncalled for, and she knew it as he slammed the door behind him. But the clarity of the dream had taken her back to that hellish day. Back to a defining moment in her life when she’d finally understood the meaning of man’s inhumanity to man. As a species, humans were capable of a savagery she’d understood only on an intellectual level. She’d witnessed it, and it had marked her. Unalterably. For better or worse. She wondered where Acosta and Boudreaux were and what they were doing now. She sighed and picked up the phone to order breakfast. That was something else she’d learned as she watched people starve to death in horrible conditions at the refugee camps. Eat whenever possible, because the next meal might not come before you die.
    A discreet knock and a heavily accented, “Room service, madame,” had Angelique pulling on the thick terry cloth robe the hotel provided its guests.
    Sunrise in Paris was something she would carry with her forever. The purples and pinks had disappeared while she was insulting Arnaud, leaving a glowing ball of white, surrounded by a warm, gold halo that peeked through the opening above the arched base of the Eifel Tower. The coffee was dark and rich, the bacon crispy, the eggs scrambled to perfection. While she did appreciate French cuisine, nothing compared to a good old American breakfast. The French could turn up their noses all they wanted. That was another result of her time in Darfur. She no longer gave a rat’s ass what anybody thought. If she wanted to get laid, she was going to get herself laid. If she wanted bacon and eggs, she’d, by God, have bacon and eggs.
    She settled into the chair, propped her feet on the balcony, and raised the cup to her lips, savoring the rich, dark coffee and steamed milk. It was good, but she missed the bitter bite of chicory that was the hallmark of New Orleans café au lait. The bitterness offset the sweet powdered-sugar coating of the traditional beignet. She closed her eyes, thoughts going back to a Mardi Gras years ago, when she was a college girl in med school at Tulane. Had she ever been so young and wild? Mitch Acosta and Seth Boudreaux were two soldiers on leave from Kosovo. She’d met them on Bourbon Street at the height of Mardi Gras. One dark; one light. Colombian American and a native New Orleanian. They’d danced and drank all night, sandwiching her between them, then laughing and stumbling to Café Du Monde in the morning light. Three huge cups of café au lait and a sack of beignets later, they’d lured her up to their hotel room. Seth had been creative with the confectioner’s sugar.
    “ J’ai une envie de toi , cher,” Seth had murmured, licking her nipples. I got a craving for you . Yeah, she’d had a craving for him too. For both of them, and she’d been wild enough in those days to indulge those cravings.
    Acosta was the one who really set her pulse to racing. When he’d knelt at the foot of the bed, she’d watched as he skimmed her jeans and panties off while his partner in crime had tormented her breasts until she was panting. Then he’d skimmed his hands up the insides of her legs and spread them apart.
    “Knew you were a natural blonde, querida .” There was a slight Spanish lilt to his voice when he spoke, a gentle rolling of the r , and she’d wondered if that roll of the tongue would translate when he went down on her. It had.
    Dear Lord, the things they’d done together. Her first and only ménage à trois. Hands and tongues all over her body, touching her everywhere. Two cocks filling her, taking her places she’d never been before. Orgasms so intense all other pleasure paled in comparison. They’d spent the entire two weeks with her before returning to their base and their next assignment. Then they’d found her again in Darfur, but there’d been no repeat of their time in New Orleans because Seth had been wounded in the