THE DAY PASSED in a gaze of excellent food and pink gin, as the train trundled through the African countryside. It was surreal, watching For a while Roxanna and Henrik sat in the observation car and savoured the warmth of the sun, whilst being protected from it by the roof overhead. They chatted to other guests, or rather, Roxanna did. She was more talkative than usual, fuelled by two large glasses of pink gin.
He was just wondering whether to suggest they go back to their suite when Roxanna stood up, rather unsteadily.
"I feel rather tiddly," she announced to their amused company. "Henrik, could you walk me back to our room?"
"Of course." Henrik was only too happy to have a bit of privacy. He wasn't used to small talk and there was one American woman insisting on commanding his attention to talk about her gall stones. He had made the fatal mistake of mentioning he was a doctor, a rookie error he should have learned not to do years ago.
"He's taking me to bed," Roxanna giggled as he steered her out of the compartment. They weaved their way down through the carriages, the rocking train not helping their progress, and finally arrived at their suite. Henrik slid the door open and just managed to catch her as she fell inside.
"Steady on." He got her to the bed and she collapsed on it on her back.
"My head is spinning. That's the last time I drink at lunchtime," she said, then smiled up at him. "Come on, Henrik, I want you to make love to me."
She wasn't usually so frank about it. It startled him but at the same time, was a sweet surprise. He sat on the bed and looked affectionately down at her.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a snooze?"
She pouted, another first for her. "Henrik, we're on the most romantic train in the world. Where's you sense of adventure?" She reached up to stroke his face, then drew him down for a kiss.
As the kiss deepened, he felt her slyly untucking his shirt. Her body was warm and mallable, irresistible in fact.
"Hold on." He found the Do Not Disturb tag and hung it outside their door. "We don't want any interruptions."
She eased down her dress as he peeled away his shirt. He was already kissing her as they fell back on the bed, kissing a trail down her body, stripping away her underwear and nuzzling her where she liked it best. She opened up for him, allowing him to drink from her sweet centre. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she whispered his name.
Her cries became hoarse as he pleasured her. She squirmed and shuddered, stretching out as her climax rippled through her body. After a moment, he did it again, and this time the climax was stronger. He could feel her inner muscles contracting as her body was racked with ecstasy. Listening to her mewls of satisfaction, he couldn't wait any longer. As she was still peaking, he slid into her, sharing her juices with a deep kiss. Her eyes widened at the feel of him inside her and she kissed him back, their lips never parting as he lost control.
"Roxanna, my love," he whispered when he could speak. The emotions coursing through his body threatened to overwhelm him. He loved her more than life itself but he had to tell her what he had done. It couldn't be kept from her much longer.
Not now, though. Now she was smiling at him, saying she loved him, saying he was a wonderful lover. He kissed her again and drew away to get a warm cloth to clean them both with. She was stretching again, supremely satisfied, like a cat.
He went to the bathroom, cleaned himself and rinsed a flannel with warm water, taking back out to her.
She was asleep. Out for the count in fact, a slight smile on her face. Tenderly he wiped the residue away but all she did was mumble and curl up on her side. He covered her with one of the dressing gowns, then quickly dressed again.
This had worked out better than he expected, but he still felt trepidation. Maybe after she found out what he had done, she wouldn't be smiling.
God, he had taken such a risk! What was he thinking?
But then he remembered what he had said to John. This was a trip to find out what it was they really wanted, and the only they would do that is to face the situation the three of them had been skirting around for a while now.
He adjusted the air conditioning so it wasn't too cold and left the room. Instead of turning right towards the dining and bar carriages, he turned left, where there was nothing but suites for other guests. He found the one he was looking for and knocked softly on the door.
JOHN GASKELL HEARD the knock. He hoped it was the one he had been waiting for.
"Who is it?"
"Henrik. Open the damned door."
John smiled to himself. He whipped off his tee-shirt and mussed up his hair, then slid the door open to see Henrik, looking anxious.
"What's the matter? Have you told her?"
"Not yet. She's asleep."
A stab of annoyance darted through him. "Fine, but we need to tell her, Henrik. I'm not going to spend another meal in this room like I'm some dirty little secret or something." He felt cranky. Henrik's specific instructions had been to stay out of sight, so he had, but enough was enough.
Henrik looked at the papers strewn over his desk. "Working even now?"
"What else am I supposed to do? I'm not allowed to socialise, am I?"
"We'll tell her when she wakes up. I'll tell her," Henrik corrected. "If it comes from you…"
"She'll be scared off? I think you're underestimating her." John risked touching the material of Henrik's navy-blue polo shirt. "I'm not used to seeing you dressed like this. I like it, though."
Henrik didn't move. He still seemed ill-at-ease. "Thank you." His gaze took in John's half-naked body.
John saw his advantage. "So… how long will she be asleep for?"
"I have no idea. She would freely admit she over-indulged in the free bar at lunchtime."
John laughed. "That's just like Rox. I trust you weren't quite as rash? Would you like something now? I have some champagne in the fridge."
Henrik hovered, obviously tempted. "Why not?"
"Sit." John motioned to the bed. Henrik gave him a look, the one that told him he knew what he was up to, but he went to sit on the huge bed and watched as John procured two glasses and the bottle of fizz from the under-desk fridge. He poured and handed Henrik one of the glasses. "Cheers. Here's to the three of us."
"I hope Roxanna feels the same." Henrik took a swig and coughed.
"Relax, Henrik. Everything is going to be fine." John put his glass down and went to him. He nudged Henrik's knees apart and stood between them, stroking his hair.
A familiar perfume drifted towards him. He leaned down to sniff, then tilted Henrik's face up to his.
"I think someone has been indulging after all."
Henrik's pale face flushed. "I don't know what you mean."
"You smell of her. And that's okay," he added quickly as Henrik began to stammer. "That's as it should be, Henrik. Don't you see? If we're all together, that's a beautiful thing." He stroked Henrik's face, the sharp cheekbones, the firm jaw. He took off his glasses and placed them on the desk, then kissed the top of his head, breathing in the scent of Roxanna, coupled with Henrik's own sandalwood shaving balm. As he did, he felt Henrik's hands come up to stroke his bare back. Henrik's lips were on his stomach, on his chest, gently grazing his skin. John gasped as he felt a gentle tugging on his nipple, first the right, then the left. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment, picturing Henrik behind his desk at work, stern, forbidding, dressed in so many damned clothes and yet he was here, worshiping John's body, the movement of the train making them sway together.
He held Henrik close to him for a long moment, overcome with tenderness, wanting to give him strength, but that feeling changed when he felt the long fingers gently seek out the tell-tale bulge in John's shorts.
John peeled off Henrik's shirt and pushed him across the bed, lying by his side. He let his fingers drift over his skin, slipping lower, watching Henrik's stomach muscles contract as he unzipped his shorts and unfastened the button. Henrik gulped as his fingers worked along the length of his erection, restrained in cotton boxer shorts. He whimpered as John palpated that spot, making him even harder, if that were possible.
"God, you're beautiful," John murmured, kissing his lips.
The next few moments were lost in a tangle of limbs. By the end they were both naked, face to face, legs entwined.
"How did we get here?" Henrik asked.
John laughed softly. "Does it matter? The only thing that would make this absolutely perfect is Rox. We all know that." He manoeuvred Henrik onto his back and kissed down his body, before taking him in his mouth. His own erection solidified again as he recognised Rox's scent. The thought of Henrik fucking her just before visiting him was unbearably stimulating.
"Christ alive," Henrik whispered, his voice hoarse. He clutched the pillows above him, his lower body in thrall to John's talented tongue. John guessed it was something Rox hadn't done yet, and from the sounds Henrik was making, he was loving every second of it. Too soon, salt and musk flooded his tongue. He waited until the pulses eased, then went up to kiss Henrik on the lips, sharing his release. From his body language, Henrik wasn't sure, but still dazed from his orgasm, he hungrily returned the kiss, tasting himself, loving the fact they were sharing such an intimate moment. His eyes were wide, feverish, as if he needed more.
John knew that feeling. It was easy to get greedy in the first moments after a satisfying climax. Henrik was still in that sub-space, wanting everything, his chest rising and falling, his breath shallow. Watching him, John finished himself off, moaning as his semen shot across Henrik's chest. When finally drained, he collapsed across Henrik's body, breathing heavily.
They were still in that position when the door slid open. Neither of them had heard a knock.
As John looked up, he knew there was nothing he could say or do to explain himself out of this one.
Roxanna stood there, her eyes wide, mouth dropped open.
