“I can’t be-LIEVE this!” Nikita ground out angrily, as she stripped off her clothing at the doorway of the cabin. Her eyes flashed silver fire, her hair disheveled as the shirt came off over her head and landed in a corner of the outside porch. Her stretch pants followed, and then her undergarments.

When she was naked, she made a beeline for the pantry. Hastily, furiously, she pulled out every can of tomato juice, tomato paste, and tomato sauce she could find, hurling them out into the middle of the kitchen floor as Michael arrived in the doorway. He dodged a can of Contadina tomato paste as it hit the doorjamb not six inches from his head.

The question mark over his head was almost physical as he stripped off his T-shirt, jeans, socks and shoes at the door and added his clothing to the pile of smelly garments on the porch. Bemused in spite of the situation, he watched Nikita as she strode naked through the kitchen, gathering up the cans of tomato products and heading for the small bathroom, muttering under her breath. Michael caught a few words, none of them in the dictionary, and he had to fight back a smile. Nikita had a certain WAY of expressing herself when she was in an environment out of her control – and this certainly WAS one of those environments.

He stood on the threshhold of the cabin naked, comfortable in his nudity, and heard the sound of swearing coming from the bathroom. Wisely, he stepped into the kitchen, gathered up the remaining cans of tomato products into a paper sack, and carried them into the bathroom.

~~~

“This was NOT the optimum mission profile,” she murmured, extending her leg and pointing her toe.

“No, it wasn’t,” Michael agreed, running his hand very tenderly along her raised thigh.

“We could have extracted Moran,” she said very softly, shivering under his touch.

“It would have jeopardized closure,” he said, his fingers sliding up to her hip.

“Mmmmm, Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think this will work?”

“It should. It’s been scientifically proven.”

Nikita slid deeper into the blood-red liquid that filled the bathtub, closed her eyes, and succumbed to Michael’s hands as they massaged her flesh, rubbing the gooey tomato mess into her skin. She could barely detect the essence of skunk oil on him now.

How could they have known that the woods were wilder than their love?

You can send a comment to Cynaera by clicking HERE!