Jungle Man

"Wait, Clara, I can explain…" Manolito said desperately.

Suddenly the bedroom door was thrown open, "Yo, Mannie, I need those condoms, I got the hottest piece of- holy shit," exclaimed the stranger.

Dear Lord,

thought Clara miserably.

Slowly she lifted her head to get a look at the intruder. He was handsome, even if he was a rude trespasser. Wavy, golden locks framed his face, a flaxen curl dangled rakishly on his forehead. Tall, with a muscular body that was earned from hard work and not at some gym. The strangest part was how similar his features were to Manolito's.

However, details were missed since she was given less than five seconds to glance at the handsome stranger. As soon as the golden-beauty burst through the door, Manolito shoved Clara behind him, trying to shield her nakedness with his body.

"Whoa, Dude, what did I do in order to earn a full frontal," joked the blonde man.

Gritting his teeth, Manolito bit out, "Get the hell out of here. Now."

Not wishing to push his luck, the stranger left as fast as he arrived.

"What the hell is going on, Manolito?" demanded Clara, moving to roll out of bed so she could get dressed and leave this weird place.

She didn't even make it to the edge of the bed before Mannie pulled her back into his arms so that she couldn't escape before he told her the truth.

"Wait, Clara, really I can explain. Please, just let me explain," Manolito pleaded when he saw the betrayal expressed in her stormy eyes.

"Why? So that I can listen to you lie to me?" she spat out bitterly. Then looking down at the bed, "Is Manolito even your real name?" Clara whispered desperately, strangely bothered more by this than anything else.

Tenderly Manolito cupped her face and tipped her chin up so that she met his gaze. "My name is Manolito Rauol de Marquez. This is my home, my bed. I am not a criminal or a bad man. I am sorry that I deceived you, but I felt that it was the only way. It was never my intention to hurt you Clara,

mia

."

Mannie leaned in the brush his lips to her cheek but Clara flinched away. Hurt by this little act, Manolito tried to brush it aside; he had hurt her after all.

"Why? Why did you lie to me?" Clara asked again, her eyes hard and incredulous.

Sighing, Manolito knew that he had to come clean and hold nothing back from her. Taking a deep breath, he began, "I work for the government,

cara

. In fact, I work for the DEA. The man that I saved you from, Alano Juan Pilarmo, is a very dangerous and crooked man. I am investigating him and trying to gain enough evidence to send him away forever. He runs a massive drug cartel that he covers up by poaching. Not very smart for both activities are illegal," he said with distain.

Glancing at Clara's face, so that he could to decipher if she was listening, wasn't helpful, her face was passive; no emotion displayed. He had no clue to whether she believed him or not. However, taking no sign as a good sign, he pressed on.

"Alano poaches exotic and rare animals from the forest. He then stuffs the animals with packages of drugs that he ships to anyone and everyone who will buy them," ended a disgusted Manolito.

Agitated, he ran a hand through his hair, "This is my home, I jumped at the chance to come back and stop that low-life. I will not stop until I help put him behind bars, where he deserved to be."

Looking up at Clara, he didn't know if he should go on. What he saw made him wish he hadn't.

Clara's face was lit up with fury; her eyes practically threw sparks of rage. She had been repulsed by Alano before, but this just made her hate him even more. Of course he would kill and destroy endangered living creatures for his own selfish purposes. He could stoop lower than any scum on the earth.

Mistaking her anger, Manolito tried to calm her down. "Please,

quierda

, do not be mad at me. Don't you see that I must do this?" When she just looked at him with confusion, he quickly went on, "And I did not plan any of this," he waved his hand to encompass them both. "But I must say that I am glad that I found you when I did. I would have hated to see you hurt,

cara

." Seeing her dazed, uncomprehending expression, Manolito pushed Clara to her back, covering her still-naked body with his.

Taking her face between his hands he bent his head to take her lips with his.

Moaning, Clara fought to clear her head,

This is what got us into this mess

, she thought heatedly.

Pressing on his chest, Clara pulled her mouth from his, "Manolito, I…" was all she got out before he swooped down to deliver another heart-stopping kiss.

Then the world stood still and sped up at the same time. As soon as one coherent thought came into her mind, it left.

Lifting his head, Manolito gazed at his beautiful Clara. She was flushed again, which he thought was a becoming color for her. Her eyelashes flitted against her cheeks, hiding her eyes and feelings from him. Pressing a kiss to her ear, he murmured, "I have never felt this before, Clara. I've needed you since I first saw you; knew that I had to have you."

Opening her eyes, Clara peered up at Manolito. Scared, she attentively reached up and touched his face. "I don't know what to say, Mannie. What to believe… I -" She searched his clear brown eyes. All she saw was the hope and desperation of a man that wanted to be believed.

"Don't say anything, Clara. Show me. Show me what you feel." With that Manolito was finished talking. He wanted to know if she believed what he said but her words couldn't convince him. He wanted to feel her response; if she pulled away, he would know.

Tunneling his hands through her silky platinum hair, he brushed her lips with his, giving her time to pull away; giving her time to reject him.

Letting out a defeated whimper, Clara wrapped her arms around him, and whispered against his lips, "I believe you."

Aggressively, Manolito took her mouth. Wrapping his hands around her soft locks, he used his grip to move her as he wished. Plundering her mouth, taking what he wanted.

Pushing her knees apart, Manolito had only one goal in mind.

"Yo, Bro… How 'bout them condoms?"

Clara felt as though she'd just been doused with a bucket of ice cold water. "Get off, Mannie. What are you thinking? And who is that?"

Sighing like a martyr, Mannie rolled off of Clara and grabbed a pair of jeans from a drawer.

Lifting a pale brow, "Oh, so you own actual clothes?"

"Yes, I do," he said simply; not wishing for her to dwell on the fact for too long. Diverting her attention with new information, he let out another long-suffering sigh, "And the idiot that burst into our room like a barbarian is my younger, unintelligent

brother

."

Stunned by the casual way he had said, 'our room', Clara didn't know how to respond. "Oh…. Well that's ni-,"

"

Condoms

, Manolito!" interrupted the

brother.

"Uggggh. I'm coming, hold on, Marc," shouted back an irritated Manolito.

Grabbing some oversized sweats and a t-shirt, Manolito held out the clothes to Clara.

"Here. Ummm, put them on and come meet my brother, Marco… uh, Marc."

Nodding her head, Clara waited for him to leave.

However, Manolito just stood there and watched her, waited for her to get dressed.

Clearing her throat, Clara made a noise and twirled her finger, indicating that she wanted him to turn around. She deserved some semblance of privacy, she huffed.

Groaning, Manolito slowly turned, "You know, I've seen every part of you,

cara

. No need to be shy now…"

Deciding he didn't deserve an answer, Clara turned her back on him and tried to get dressed as fast as possible. Bending over, she quickly stuck one, then the other foot into the sweatpants, pulling them up as she rose.

Hearing a choking sound come from behind her, she looked over her shoulder, her gaze clashing with warm chocolate. "Manolito! I told you to turn around!" She could just imagine the sight he got! Ugh!

"Clara, you cannot ask a starving man to stay away from a buffet. It just doesn't happen." He turned around again.

Donning the shirt with amazing speed, Clara looked at him with exasperation. "Starving? You just 'feasted' not even an hour ago," she blushed,

damn fair skin.

Chuckling, Manolito pulled her into his side, fitting her there like the missing piece of a puzzle. "Let's go downstairs and see what my irresponsible baby brother is up to. I must warn you that he is quite… interesting," he finished, letting Clara wonder what that was supposed to mean.

But she didn't have to wonder long since Manolito led her from the bedroom, steered her down a flight of stairs and into a kitchen, where the sound of cupboards being opened and closed was coming from. What she saw kind of surprised her.

The big blonde Paul Bunyan look-alike had at least twenty different ingredients, to make god-knew what, lined up on the counter. He was wearing an apron that said "Kiss the cook" and was humming a

Spice Girls

song?

"

If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give

…" screeched the baritone, striving to be a soprano.

Yep, that was the Spice Girls. He has good taste, she mused.

"What are you doing, Marc?" Manolito loved his brother, really he did, but he didn't want Marc around when all he wanted was to be alone with Clara. He needed time to convince her to say with him. "Thought you needed condoms? Had a piece waiting for ya…" Throwing the box, Manolito was aiming for his head.

That should get my point across.

Dodging the flying box of contraceptives, he replied, "Naw, bro, I was just pullin' your leg. You know I'm jonesin' for that librarian of mine." Clutching his chest, he threw them a dramatic look, "Be still my shorts." Grinning, he went back to his pasta creation and tossed different amounts of spices into the dish.

Not using a measuring cup

, noticed an observant Clara, not relishing tasting said creation.

Donning a charming smile, he added, "Anyways, I was hoping to meet the Mrs. here," looking pointedly at Clara. "My name's Marco, Marc to my friends. Oh, yea, I'm also that big-lug's brother," smirking at his nickname for his sibling, "And you are?"

"Clara. Clara Solharn. Nice to meet you, Marco," smiling at the charismatic man. He really was quite friendly and it was hard to resist his charm. One thing she noticed about Marco was that he seemed to have a laid-back, easy-going personality; she liked that.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he came over to shake her hand, "So, what's the deal with you and Mannie? Known him long, eh?" He winked as he let her hand go, headed back to his noodle surprise and set it in the oven.

"Uh, well, I met-, I ran into Clara in the-"

"Not too long," Clara interjected. "We really just met. You could say that Mannie has kept me

captive

since we met." She looked up at him pointedly. He at least had the grace to blush.

A charming color on him

, Clara thought with a snicker.

Marc noticed the exchange between the two and couldn't remember ever having seen his brother look at a woman like he did this Clara. Knowing Mannie worked for the government, and what he did took a toll on him. Often it left him feeling empty, lonely; Marc hoped this Clara was as serious about Manolito as he seemed to be about her.

They look good together.

The three settled into chairs at the kitchen table. Chatting about different things, mostly Marc told stories and poked fun at his sibling, the conversation flowed easily, making Clara laugh at the pair's antics. It was obvious to the eye that they were very close even though one resembled night and the other day.

One was loud, outrageously funny, and unabashedly outspoken, while the other was quieter, had an air of reserve, and looked something… Clara couldn't put her finger on it, but Manolito didn't seem right. She didn't notice it earlier, well they hadn't really spoken earlier, but now he appeared to be a man going through the motions, acting the part; except with her.

With her, he was normal, natural, a fun-loving, whole man. She didn't notice that he looked to be almost in pain. That it was even straining to be in the company of his brother.

Reaching under the table, Clara found Manolito's hand. Lacing her fingers with his seemed to have a calming effect on him; he leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs, listening to Marc's stories of their life with an amused half-smile, interjecting corrections to the different parts that his brother stretched.

Soon Marc's pasta was done and Clara couldn't get over how good it was. "Mmmm, Marco, this is so delicious. Where on earth did you learn to cook?"

Grinning at Clara's praise, Marc looked at his brother in time to see his disappointed, narrowed look. His brother didn't like it when the beautiful Clara paid him any attention. Amused by this, Marc decided to stoke the fire a bit, "Thank-you, I'm glad you like it, but Clara, please call me Marc. We are friends, no?" At her nod, he continued, "Our mother taught me, believe it or not. She was quite a good cook."

"Marco. Manolito. Those are two different names, very unusual." Clara looked to hear Marc's answer, trying to ignore the man that laid an arm around her tightly, possessively.

Laughing, Marc was more than happy to tell her about their family history. "Well, Mom is from this area. This was actually her home when she was a little girl; she grew up in this house. But she met our father when he came here on some scientific expedition, discovering different plant species; he was a botanist. Long story short: Dad came in, swooped Mom off her feet, brought her back to the States and they got married. Dad worked at a university and Mom opened a small restaurant; she was a great cook, amazing really. They had us; first time was a bust with him," he jokingly pointed to his brother, "so they tried again and got me. She used the first names of her grandfather and father. Our dad knew how important it was to her and didn't mind. He figured he'd give us some good nicknames," he laughed.

He sobered up as he added, "Manolito wanted to come back more than I did and he inherited this house when our parents passed. Car accident. A few years ago. But they were great. Set us up pretty good, too. What, with Mannie, he got the house, and I, well I cook so I got the restaurant back in the states." Shaking off the feelings invoked by thinking about his parents, he smiled, "We try to visit each other as often as possible. Right, bro?"

"Yea. As much as possible. Sometimes too often," looking at Marc, Manolito tried to get across that

now

was one of those times.

The man wouldn't take the hint and leave!

Laughing, Marc decided to take pity on his brother. "As I said earlier, I have a feisty Librarian that needs tamed. Damn woman won't give me the time of day. Gotta go reel her in." With a wink he was up, grabbed the box of condoms and was out the door as fast as he came.

"Well, that was interes-" Clara stopped mid-sentence when she saw Marco poke his head back in.

With an amused glint in his eye, Marc offered, "I'm headed back in to see Lila, whether she wants to see me or not. You need a ride back into town by any chance, Clara?"

Feeling Mannie's arm tighten around her shoulders, Clara tried to stand up, "Why, yes, I would like that. I have some business to do in town and should get back to the hotel." Trying to get out of Manolito's hold, Clara quickly surmised that she wouldn't be able to get away unless he let her. Looking at him, she waited for him to take the hint.

"Leave Marco. Don't come back for a few days." Looking into Clara's eyes the entire time, he added, "I'll be very busy." Seeing her blush gave him a sense of satisfaction. She wasn't ignoring him now.

"Peace guys. See you soon, Clara." And he was gone. Leaving Clara alone with Manolito.

"Manolito, I have to go back to town. You know I have to report Alano. I don't look forward to it, but I have to get back to my life. You have to let me go."

Something in Manolito snapped. All he heard was that she wanted to leave. She couldn't leave. Without her he was alone; he had no one until he found her. Didn't she feel it?

Growling, he picked her up out of the chair and set her on the table in front of him. Towering over her he stripped her faster than she could blink.

"No Clara. You can't leave me. Stay here. Where I know you'll be safe. I'll take care of that bastard, Alano." Trailing his hand down to her curls, he started to stroke her. "Stay. Please."

Before she could answer Manolito already had his mouth on hers. His fingers slipped past her folds and found her wet, wanting.

Circling her clit, he pushed the little button until she was throwing her hips at his hand, seeking some kind of release.

Dragging his mouth from hers, he stared into her eyes, seeing the shock enter them as he slowly entered her. Slowly, steadily, Manolito started to work the hard length of his cock into her hot pussy. "Mine. You're mine, Clara."

Gasping, Clara wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking them around his buttocks.

"Fuck me, please Manolito." Whimpering, she brought her nails down his chest, leaving light-red trails, "I need you."

"Oh,

cara

, you'll get me." Sliding in and out of her, Manolito gave her just enough friction to drive her crazy with pleasure, but it was too slow for her find release.

"Say the words, Clara. Say them and I will give you what you need."

Clara didn't feel that she was ready for that, knew that she couldn't say what he wanted her to; admit that she was his.

"Manolito, just fuck me," she pleaded. When he just kept that frustrating pace, she tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

Holding onto her tighter, Manolito plunged into her a little harder and deeper, giving her a taste of what she wanted. But as soon as he felt her coming close, he reverted back to shallow, slow thrusts.

Frustrated, drowning in pleasure, Clara cried out, "Yours. I'm yours, Manolito."

With a shout of triumph, Manolito tilted her hips and started to thrust into her faster and deeper than before.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was the only sound besides moans of need. They could smell the other's arousal, which only heightened their own.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but could only have been minutes, Clara fell apart in Manolito's arms, on top of his table, spasming around his cock. "Manolito," sobbed Clara as she broke apart.

Bellowing, Manolito couldn't fight the tight clenching of Clara's pussy. Following her, Manolito clung to Clara, letting her wandering hands calm him, fill the ache that he knew only she could fill.

Lifting his head, he wearily begged, "Please, just come with me to bed, Clara,

mia

."

"Ok," she smiled. Tucking a strand of inky hair behind his ear, sheepishly she whispered, "I'd like nothing better."

Tenderly, Manolito scooped her up and carried her back to their bed.

Mine.

********************

Where is she,

Alano fumed.

He was beyond frustrated. Alano no longer cared about poaching vessels for their drugs; they had enough animals for now.

No, he didn't care about business. He wanted Clara, now.

When he got her back, he would take his time killing the jungle ape that took her. And he would relish every pain he inflicted on the man.

What he would do to Clara he would relish too. But that was different. He would make love to her; make her love him.

Seeing José, one of the better trackers with him, approach, he looked up and demanded, "So? What's the news, José? Have you found her?"

Nervously, José stuttered, "I-I-I, th-think so, sir." Seeing the approval from his employer, he bravely added, "They are not too far. About a day's trek up north. I came back as fast as I was sure that was them. Looking through a window I saw her, Clara that is, sir, and there is no mistaking that it was her." Finished, he waited anxiously for his boss's answer.