In the late afternoon after the rain had slowed to a drizzle, Bastian carried the galvanized bin into one of the roofless huts. It would make a decent bathing chamber. He couldn’t forget how Brie’s eyes had lit up when he told her he’d set up a place for her to bathe.

He was such a fucking sucker for her eyes.

He didn’t have to wonder why she’d been successful as a model in her early teens. She could sell him a surfboard in the desert just by fluttering those long, dark lashes.

But it wasn’t just her eyes. It was also her far from unfortunate nose.

And her ass.

He shook his head, thinking of the quarters game. He hadn’t played a drinking game since he was twenty. And it had never been that fun. Or revealing.

Bin placed, he set out to find a stool for her to sit on, so she could wash without putting weight on her ankle. Helping her bathe was out of the question. Not if he wanted to stay sane. And celibate.

He found a light cloth in one of the huts and shook it out. It smelled musty, but it was intact. He could hang it over the door to give her privacy as she bathed. Another celibacy aid.

In the same hut, he found a folding chair that needed only a few screws to fix, which he salvaged from an old truck that was returning to nature. Repairs complete, he placed the chair in the bathing hut next to the bin full of water, then hung up the curtain.

He returned to their shared hut and scooped her from her seat on a tarp. She squealed in surprise, but then draped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing? I can walk.”

He knew she could. But this was more fun. “No point in risking slipping in the mud.” He was pathetic in his excuses but didn’t care if she saw right through him.

He set her on the chair in the middle of the hut. “I’ll be back with the soap.”

“And the tobe cloth for me to change into.”

He bowed. “And clean clothes. Anything else?”

“A loofah? And bath salts. Ohh…and conditioner. I would sell my left kidney for hair conditioner.”

“Sorry. No loofahs, salts, or conditioner. But I might have some gauze you could use as a washcloth. And it’ll only cost half a kidney.”

“A bargain at any price.” She ran her fingers over her short hair. “Good thing I went for the buzz cut. But I still miss conditioner.”

“When you get back to the US, you can have a Costco-sized bottle. On me.”

She pressed her hand over her heart. “You do know how to woo a girl.”

He tweaked her nose. “Damn straight.”

Minutes later, he was planted outside the hut, her vigilant guard, as she set to work scrubbing the dried swamp from her skin. Bathing was important. She could have more cuts hidden under the muck that needed to be cleaned. He’d forgotten about the stripe she’d received from the whip. He really should have considered that yesterday and insisted she bathe then in spite of the rain.

With the missing roof, sunlight poured into the hut at an angle. What he hadn’t counted on was that the light would shine through the curtained doorway, offering up a titillating silhouette.

Holy fuck.

Brie stood on one leg, with her bad one kneeling on the chair. She used the jar he’d provided to pour water over her head and down her body.

In profile, he saw a silhouette of pert nipples jutting from small, high breasts, a flat belly, and a perfect round ass. She let out a soft sound of pleasure as she worked the soap into her short hair.

Bastian cleared his throat to stop his own groan.

Brie froze. She made no sound, not even water dripped. Hell, he could swear the birds stopped chirping.

How low could he be? He was being a voyeur—even if it was unintentional—and she knew it.

She began massaging her scalp again. “You can see me,” she said. Her hands left her hair and slid down, over her breasts, which she then rubbed, as if soaping with enthusiasm.

“Yes,” he said. No point denying it. “I didn’t mean to.” He turned his back to the hut. “I’m not looking now.”

“You can look, but it’s only fair that I get to watch you bathe next.”

He kept his gaze averted. “Sweetheart, I’m Special Forces. I can go weeks without bathing.”

She snorted. “Not if you want to share a hut with me.”

“Given our situation, it would be smart to have me smell like a swamp thing.”

“Screw smart. I refuse to share a hut with a guy who smells like Sasquatch.” He heard dripping water and the soft lap of cloth on skin. “I want you to watch, Bastian.”

He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. His imagination was vivid enough. In his mind, he saw water flowing in rivulets down her back and the cleft of her ass. She’d been so coated in dirt from their swim in the bog, water would leave trails through the silt, running down her breasts, across her belly, and around her hip to that rounded ass.

Fantasies from ten years ago had nothing on the image conjured now. He had to marvel at the situation. He was in the middle of a rescue op, stranded in South Sudan, and he had a massive fucking boner.

Brie didn’t know if Bastian was watching or not, but the thought he might be turned her on. The mud had caked when it dried, and it was no act that she had to take her time lathering and scrubbing her skin. Knowing Bastian might be taking voyeuristic pleasure made the act of washing sensual. She slid her hands between her thighs and very thoroughly washed her clit. She gave a soft moan.

If he hadn’t been watching, had he turned now?

She stroked and cleaned. Her body coiled tight with the building pleasure. She wished she could see him, but the sun entered the hut from above and behind her, making the sheet opaque from her perspective.

The moment was strangely intimate. Separated by a flimsy sheet, he was invisible to her, and she didn’t know if he watched, yet she had no doubt he was as aroused as she was.

She scooped water from the bin with the jar and poured it over her head. The lukewarm water cascaded down her body and splashed into the tub. The water caused her nipples to tighten, and she pinched them, calling them into peaks he would see in her silhouette if he watched. She imagined his mouth at her breast, sucking as his hands cupped her ass. He would pull her against him as he sucked her nipple, so she could press against his erection. She groaned.

From the other side of the sheet, Bastian let out a guttural sound. That answered the watching question. He grunted and said, “Fuck me.”

She let out a throaty laugh. “Is that an offer?”

“Hell no. It’s a description of my situation. I am so totally fucked.”

“How so?”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Brie, but right now, you are my mission. That’s all. For your safety and mine, I can’t let my guard down. I can’t even sleep unless you’re on guard duty. Sex is not an option. Not here.”

She smiled. “See now, I told you if we kissed, you’d want to have sex with me. I’m a great kisser.”

Bastian barked out a sharp laugh. “You win. I wanted to fuck you then. And I want to fuck you now.”

She liked his honesty. He wasn’t shy, and she was never coy. When they got out of South Sudan, they could have some serious fun together. But sadly, that was probably days away.

She picked up the soap again and resumed bathing. She wouldn’t tease him or herself anymore and washed perfunctorily, getting the job done quickly so as not to prolong the temptation. She owed him that much after all he’d done for her.