Project Passion Read Free Page A

was
a big girl, she could probably take care of herself. It made for an
interesting mental picture, though, runaway nun beats off
attackers, but even so…even so. If it was a pair of lesbians in a
boat, she would try and get them interested…she might be
interested.
    She’d heard of sexual tourism, but
this was different. This was her and didn’t she have the right to
try and act out a fantasy too? She wasn’t prepared to take a lot of
abuse from anybody. Not if she didn’t have to…she could always dive
in the tent. She would run off into the woods and not come back
until they left.
    These were all very good notions. She
abruptly waded into the shallows and began rubbing the drying dirty
foam off of her skin. Real women, normal women…surely she was a
normal woman at some level, but they did this all the time. The
impression was all new to her. Unlike shaving there was no need to
go back and do it again. She popped up out of the water and
staggered back up to the beach. The bottom there was all sharp
rocks and she wanted a razor to do her bush and armpits
again.
    The motor noise sounded all too
close.
    With a stab in the heart, a stab of
hope and a gush of anticipation, something that made her gasp for
breath and wave her hands around in confusion, the boat was coming
right towards her. It sounded like they were right there, as she
brushed her teeth, applied the gloss, and threw on what little
costume she’d had the nerve to arrange. Once or twice she had taken
a bath with bath beads and lots of foamy, blue-coloured water. It
always made her horny. It was a shame she couldn’t do that now. She
could be waiting for him in a foamy blue bath. She loved how her
body looked in the foam. Every part of her vision had its dark
side. What if Braden had been lying about a few things? And what if
he didn’t come, either? Now that all of her hopes and terrors,
fears and desires were up. What if he brought a friend or two and
they gang-raped her? Her face lightened at the thought. Heather was
hyperventilating and moaning quietly, mouthing curses in her state.
God, yes, rape me…but be gentle and do it slowly. One at a time
please, boys. No! She could suck a cock at the same time. A big
one. She could have slapped herself in her sudden rage, but
controlled the impulse.
    The motor was so loud that Heather
couldn’t even think straight anymore.
    She had wine in a cooler. Get the man
drunk. Get them both drunk. That was a plan…men were easier to
handle when they were drunk. She’d read that somewhere. Especially
if all you wanted was sex. She’d laughed at the time, but that was
what it said.
    All dried off, in a pair of cut-off
jeans, with rings on her toes and a silver ankle bracelet, her
mom’s charm bracelet, clip-on ear rings, a black ribbon with a bow
on it around her neck, with her lips done and her skin all smooth
and satiny from the hair removal, Heather took a couple of deep
breaths and headed back to her camp and the place where her orange
canoe lay on the rocks like a beacon to any passing stranger.
Topless was too terrifying. She ran to her pack and grabbed a black
undershirt, the sleeveless kind, one she’d cut off just below the
nipples, nervous that the thing would fall out of her packsack or
something somewhere in the real world and everyone would know who
she was and laugh. She put it on, grateful for its slight warmth as
the evening was coming on and she was shivering and shaking like a
leaf, taking the binoculars with her.
    She had never felt less horny in her
life.
     
    #
     
    Screened by shadows and a thin clump
of cedars, Heather studied the figure in the boat. In this light it
was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure a white face would have
shown up.
    It had to be Braden. Her heart began
to thump deep in her chest. She ran up the hill and put the
binoculars in the tent. Then she went back down to the shore to
wait.
    The man in the boat, God he looked
big, gave a big white smile, waved and then half