The roar of the motorcycles pounded in his ears, and coupled with the wind, he was all but deaf. Jensen tilted his head slightly, trying to make out the slightly inflamed tattoo on Andréa's tanned thigh. To Jensen's irritation, it was impossible to make out. Leaning over even more, he lurched and let out a manly scream as he nearly fell off the motorcycle. Righting himself, he ignored a glare from the muscular doll factory worker, and adjusted his glasses. Just ahead, hitching a ride on the beautiful Evita's bike, was Cougar. Jensen admired observed the way his long dark hair whipped behind him, from under that magnificent hat. For a while after meeting Cougar, Jensen had considered styling his own hair in such a manner, but Pooch had vehemently dissuaded him from this course of action. Of course, Jensen had taken umbrage at his colorful language, but at the arrival of Clay, both parties quieted.
As the road swerved, Jensen noticed the muscles in Cougar's taut back tighten underneath his shirt. He licked his suddenly dry lips. This Bolivian weather was no good for Jensen's skin. Ivory, his mother called it. Crackerjack, Roque proclaimed. Either way, he was burning up like Clay's cooking on the back of this damned motorcycle, and he really didn't think the way Cougar was holding Evita was strictly appropriate. They were coworkers, and the others back at the doll factory would have a field day with this gossip. Jensen had done his best to keep Cougar out of the gossip (mostly by making it all about him), but Cougar's roaming hands were going to ruin everything. Jensen's stomach did not feel very well at all. It felt as though it were going to drop out his butt and onto the asphalt, twitching and convulsing like fresh road kill, actually. I'm going to have to give that twisted, horny bastard a piece of my mind! I am alerting Clay to Coug's frivolous actions. I bet he would walk away from a mission to grope a gaggle of unsuspecting women, the depraved sicko!
Finally, a sharp turn in the road replaced Cougar's tanned, well-muscled, toned arms around Evita's trim waist, grasping for dear life as she wrenched the sputtering bike to the left. Jensen clenched Andréa's waist just in time, but his butt still slid back a good few inches. He glared at Cougar through his darkened shades. As they pulled up to the cemetery, Cougar swung those long, long legs of his off the motorcycle and planted a kiss on Evita's lips. His insides boiled. As Jensen went to kiss Andréa, Cougar pulled her face towards his instead. She giggled obnoxiously and leaned in. With a grin, Cougar let go and walked over to the others. Jensen scowled and followed as the women roared away. Roque and Pooch chuckled as Cougar tipped his hat in that infuriating way.
As Cougar turned to listen to Clay, Jensen still couldn't help admiring his long, lean, tanned body. The jauntily angled hat…the glossy dark hair…and especially that mustache and goatee…
"Jensen! Are you listening?! And what in god's name are you wearing?" Jensen snapped his head up, and his thoughts away from the sexy sniper. As he launched into his explanation, he still got the feeling that Cougar had known exactly what he'd been thinking about.