“What’s that?” Ivory said.
We stared down through the darkness. There was no one else around; it was off-season and our waiter had deserted us before the sun had set.
Trevor stood, glancing at me. “I’m going to check it out.”
“Could be a crocodile. You never know what you’ll find in Thailand.” Ivory didn’t move but her voice was unalarmed. “Feel free, boys. I’ll be right here.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” He grinned at her, flashing perfect white teeth.
“Left behind in an LA hotel room,” she said.
So Trevor and I went together with cautious steps. There was a steep grade to the side of the river, and thorny vines tore at us as we half-fell down it before encountering the sticky grasp of red clay mud threatening to pull our Tevas off.
She lay naked on the riverbank like a fallen swan. Her bare flesh white as snow, her hair midnight black. Her feet were thin and fragile as newly pedicured mourning doves, not a smudge or callus except for the mud that covered her.
Rated R. Contains non-vanilla adult sex.