‘It’s nothing to worry about.’ ‘Lie back. Let me see the wound.’ ‘No! Anna, the scar is horrible. I can barely look at it myself.’ ‘I ...oubt that it is the worst shrapnel injury I have seen. Take off your trousers and let me see.’ I commanded. Erich did as he was told. I turned my back as he shed his trousers and covered himself with the coverlet. When he was ready, I studied the wound. Shrapnel had ripped through his left thigh, leaving a deeply pitted scar. The scar itself was deep, rough,. The sexual tension was palpable. Mustapha's hairy chestexuded virility, a smell of musk and testosterone. While he held my handvery delicately, a tingle all over my body made me feel lusted over by areal man. For the first time ever in my feminine life. But Mustapha's eyesshowed more than just lust. His intent gaze had a tinge of sweetness toit, that gave me a sense of incipient romance and love. He had a deep andcommanding voice, just like his looks were, but his manner of speakingsent. More

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