He laughed and held her away from him. 'Me too, Jenny. It looks like I'm going to be a disappointment to you.'
We'll see,' she said, smiling wickedly. 'Let's try and do something about your wounds first, shall we?' She reached down into her bag.
Take off your jacket and shirt and let's have a look at you. I brought some ointment from the medical supplies that should do your bruises some good.'
Fender winced as he shed his jacket, slowing the operation down to cause the least movement in his sore limbs. She watched him struggle, concern on her face.
'Here, let me help you.' She eased the jacket from his shoulders and laid it over one of the room's two armchairs. Then she began to unbutton his shirt.
'Oh God, Luke. They really did get at you.'
His shoulders and back were covered in small, red weals where the rats'
teeth had sunk into the material of the protective clothing and pinched his skin together. Still in evidence, but to a lesser degree, were the long undefined scratch marks where the creatures' claws had raked him.
Much of the skin around his shoulders and upper arms was turning a sickly purplish yellow and there were clear indents made by sharp teeth on either side of his wrist.
'Why didn't you say it was this bad?' Jenny said. 'You must have been in agony.'
'I didn't realize myself. It's only now it's really beginning to hurt.'
'I'm going to run a bath for you. That should stop some of the bruising.' She made for the bathroom. 'Get out of the rest of your things. I'll rub the ointment in after you've bathed.'
'I'll look forward to it,' he said, grinning.
He heard the sound of running taps and looked down at himself sheepishly. He shrugged, then whipped off his shoes and trousers. His underpants barely disguised his feelings. Sitting on the bed, he stripped off his socks, then sat there, feeling a little awkward. A towel came sailing from the bathroom.
'Use this if you're feeling bashful,' Jenny's voice called out.
He pulled the towel from his head where it had landed and stood, tugging briskly at the last garment as he did so. The towel was round his waist within seconds. Fender looked up to see Jenny smiling at him from the doorway, steam from the hot water billowing over her shoulders.
'My, my, such modesty,' she said.
She came towards him and her expression changed to one of concern once again.
Tour poor legs. Lucky you were wearing the protective clothing you'd have been eaten alive if you hadn't.'
Jenny touched his shoulders, his arms, his chest, her fingers gentle.
He pulled her close and she said, 'Careful, Luke,' but her words were smothered under his kiss. When their lips parted, she was breathing sharply, an urgency in her eyes. Her hand reached up to his cheek and he could feel himself pressing into her, the rough towel threatening to loosen and fall at any moment. His lips sought hers again.
She pulled away. 'No. Not just yet. Let's see to your wounds first.'
Fender drew in a deep breath and tightened the towel at his waist.
'You're the boss for now,' he said.
She kissed his chest, quickly and lightly. 'Into the bath with you.
I'll be there in a minute.'
The splash of water and his muffled groans told her he had immersed himself as she picked up his clothes, folding them and placing them neatly over the arm of the chair. She walked towards the bathroom, unbuttoning the sleeves of her blouse as she went.
Jenny looked down at his naked form in the bath, the still-running water rippling over his body and distorting it. Leaning forward, she turned off the taps, then stirred the water into swirling eddies with her hand, mixing the hot with the cold. When the currents settled down she examined his body, for the moment ignoring the injuries to study his shape. She smiled approvingly.
Jenny began unbuttoning her blouse. She slipped the silk from her shoulders in a fluid movement and hung the garment on a hook behind the bathroom door. She was bra-less and Fender gazed at her breasts, the twin points risen and pink.
She knelt beside the bath and rested her arms on its edge, looking into his face and loving what she saw. He stretched his neck forward and they kissed once, twice, three times. He opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips, then reached for the flannel and wiped the moisture from his face.
Fender closed his eyes and let Jenny bathe him, her hands soft and caressing, smoothing the soap over his limbs, spending more care and attention than necessary on his aroused penis, leaning over the bath to gently kiss it. He groaned, but in pleasure this time, reaching for her, cupping a breast in his hand. Then he leaned forward, his upper body clear of the water, one arm encircling her naked back, his head bending low, lips seeking a thrusting nipple. He caressed it with his tongue, leaving a trail of moisture across her chest as he sought the other.
Jenny moaned and closed her eyes, wanting him badly now, the muscles in her thighs becoming taut. She pushed him back, gently but firmly, determined to ease his pain first. She sponged the soap from his body in silence, relishing his touch, his fingers running smoothly over her breasts, the insides of her arms, along her neck. Then she drew him from the water, and gently patted him dry, pulling the towel over his aroused organ, then beneath it, squeezing his testicles without force but nevertheless causing him to draw in his breath. Once more she kissed him there, allowing his penis to enter her mouth, drawing the first drops of sticky fluid from it, holding his hips as he moved slowly.
Then he was pulling her up, knowing he was losing control and wanting her fully. He held her against him, pressing her nakedness into his, their kisses no longer tentative, but hard and thrusting, their tongues meeting and tasting each other's sweetness. His hand fell to her waist and he pulled at the zip fastener, the skirt falling away from his grasp. Her tights came next, her shoes already gone, and as he drew the nylon down her thighs, he kissed her stomach causing it to contract as though stung, her hands closing over the back of his head. He allowed his lips to linger, drawing them down to the silky material of her panties, feeling the soft resistance of hair beneath them,
