The African jungle pulsed with life around me.

Towering trees formed a living cathedral, their massive trunks wrapped in thick vines and brilliant flowering creepers. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy in hazy golden shafts, illuminating mist that rose from the damp earth. The air was heavy, humid, rich with the scent of wet soil, blooming orchids, and the wild musk of the jungle itself. Birds called in bright flashes of color high above, while smaller creatures rustled in the underbrush. Sweat traced slow paths down my bare, powerfully built chest as I moved silently along a narrow game trail, spear balanced lightly in my grip.

I was Rokan — hunter, protector, and the sole human guardian of this vast green world.

A low growl ahead stopped me cold. I melted into the foliage just as a sleek black jaguar slunk across the path, muscles rippling beneath its glossy coat.

Then I heard them ... soft, civilized female voices drifting through the trees.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I crept forward and carefully parted the broad leaves.

Two women.

The first was breathtaking. Tall and statuesque with striking auburn red hair that caught the dappled light like polished copper. Her fitted shirt was damp with sweat and partially unbuttoned from the heat, the fabric clinging to a pair of heavy, full breasts that rose and fell with every breath. The tied waist of her shirt accentuated an incredible hourglass figure that flared into wide, generous hips and thick, powerful thighs barely contained by her shorts. She carried herself with confident grace, but I could see the tension in her sharp green eyes as she consulted a soggy map.

The second woman was slightly shorter, with warm brown hair falling in playful waves around an expressive, beautiful face. Her tank top clung to perky, full breasts and a narrow waist that curved dramatically into a plump, heart-shaped ass that swayed enticingly with every step. Her shorts rode high on smooth, toned legs that looked incredibly soft. She moved with bright, bouncy energy despite their obvious predicament.

They were lost. Alone. And although they appeared older than me by about 15 years, they were still the most beautiful, soft, curvaceous creatures I had ever laid eyes on in my young, solitary life.