"You think so?"
Audrey moved against him, toasty velvet. "I insist on seeing what else you can do besides catch snakes," she said.
And Remo showed her, starting slowly, using only some of the specific skills Chiun had taught him in the early days. His fingers came together at the small of Audrey's back, the touch enough to make her squirm against him, yet so light he barely grazed her skin. A dip to trace the cleft between her buttocks, then his hands rose higher, following the sleek curve of her spine to tease the nape of Audrey's neck. She trembled, moaning softly as she clasped her hands behind his neck and leaned against him, almost going limp.
Sex is a combination of psychology and physiology—the former more anticipation than achievement, while the latter is controlled by pressure, friction, heat and cold. Sinanju recognized three distinct techniques for bringing women to the pinnacle of sexual fulfillment. One method used twenty-seven steps, another thirty-seven and the last mode fifty-two—although Chiun was adamant that only a Korean woman could survive the total treatment with her sanity intact.
Remo started teasing her, beginning with the insides of her ears, then down the side of Audrey's neck. He found her pulse and lingered there, tap-tapping until she sighed in rapture before he moved down to the hollow of her throat. Her legs would not support her now, and all her weight was on his shoulders until Remo marched her three steps backward and leaned her against the nearest tree. He guided Audrey's hands above her head and showed her how to grip a branch to keep from falling down.
"Hang on," he said.
"God, yes!"
He picked up where he had left off, and it was getting hard to hold her back.
"Please hurry!"
Another breathless gasp came from Audrey as he gave her what she wanted, and he protected the sensation until her spasms had subsided into small, involuntary tremors.
"Act Two is next," he told her, rising to his feet.
"I can't," she moaned.
"You will."
"Too much!"
But she could handle it all right, although she was a quivering mess until her release came again, followed by a long, slow drift into the afterglow.
They lay together on the mossy ground, and after several moments Audrey started giggling. She pressed her face against his chest to mute the sound, but couldn't seem to stop.
"What's funny?" Remo asked her.
"Nothing, Jesus! It was—" Audrey hesitated, speechless for a moment. "I just realized, you're not a screamer after all."
"I'm screaming on the inside," Remo said.
"Tell me about it. I believe I shorted something out."
"I'll check your wiring for you," Remo told her, reaching down between her thighs.
She caught his wrist. "Not on your life! My life, I mean. You think they have a Flight for Life out here in case of strokes or heart attacks?"
She was coherent, but her eyes were slightly glazed, and Remo thought perhaps it was a good thing that his demonstration hadn't gone beyond the thirteen basic steps. It would be awkward, carting Audrey through the jungle on a litter, and they didn't have a straitjacket.
"We should be getting back," she said a moment later, stirring feebly, reaching for her clothes.
"I'll help you."
"No," she said. "I still know how to dress myself."
It took her three attempts to put her jeans on, though, before she got her balance back. The rest of it was simple by comparison, and with her clothes on, she looked more or less composed.
"You ought to package that," she told him. "You could make a killing."
"It requires a certain inspiration," Remo lied.
"And sweet talk, too. The total package. Do they teach that in New Orleans?"
Remo smiled. "I pick up bits and pieces as I go along," he said.
"I'll bet you do. All kinds of pieces, with a touch like that."
"We aim to please."
"Your aim was perfect," Audrey told him. "I can't wait to try some more of that once I regain my strength."
"If we have time," he said.
"I'll make time," Audrey answered, moving in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "We'd better not go back together, just in case."
"All right."
He watched her go, took time to check his pulse and blood pressure. Both normal, well below the average. Remo let five minutes pass before he followed Audrey back in the direction of the sleeping camp.
And this time, he was unaware of being followed through the trees.
Chapter Ten
The morning summoned mixed reactions from his traveling companions, Remo noted as he moved about the camp. Stockwell and Sibu Sandakan were visibly fatigued and out of shape, but each seemed anxious to continue with the march. Pike Chalmers was the same as ever—surly, misanthropic, with a hard gleam in his eye that spoke to Remo of a personal agenda he was keeping hidden. As for Audrey, while the early-morning sun highlighted shadows underneath her eyes, as if from weariness, she seemed to have a new spring in her step.
"I haven't slept that well in years," she said to Remo, passing on her way to make a pit stop in the forest. "That's some bedside manner, Dr. Ward."
"I try to keep my hand in," Remo told her.
"So I noticed. Don't waste too much energy today," she said in parting. "You'll be needing it tonight."
"I'll make a note."
Their breakfast was another freeze-dried meal, some kind of lumpy scrambled-egg concoction laced with colorful but tasteless cubes of meat and vegetables. Someone's conception of an omelet, Remo guessed, though he couldn't have sworn to the ID if he were under oath.
The best thing about bad food, he decided, was its tendency to vanish quickly; no one lingered to savor the experience before they were scraping plates and trooping down to the stream for K.P. duty. They were packed, including tents, inside of forty minutes from the time they first sat down to eat.
The jungle had begun to subtly change, thought Remo as they struck another trail beyond the clearing and resumed their eastward march. Not so much in appearance—which was standard tropic rain forest, from what he could observe—but more in terms of atmosphere. There was a darker feel about the new terrain; Remo would have been hard-pressed to put it into words, except to say that it felt dangerous, if not precisely evil. There was less room to maneuver on the trail, the jungle pressing closer on each side than it had the day before, and the mosquitoes came in greater numbers, reinforced by swarms of biting gnats and flies.
And they were being followed, yes indeed. The tail was back there, keeping a respectful distance, but maintaining contact all the same.