My dick throbs, my balls ache, and I want to own this woman fully. I swallow and pull my hand away with great reluctance, and it seems almost physically painful to turn away. She blinks as if waking and cocks her head to the side.
“It’s strange here,” she whispers. “Do you feel it, too?”
I’m glad she has the savvy to speak truth and not hide. I nod.
“I do.” I shake my head. “I haven’t decided if this island’s enchanted or cursed. When food vanishes overnight, it’s cursed, but when a woman like you ends up here…” I shake my head.
“There’s no such thing as enchantment or curses,” she says. “That’s… that’s fictional. I don’t believe in that at all. It’s got to be something psychological.” She shakes her head and brushes imaginary dust off the skirt of her dress. “I should hate you after the way you treated me.”
I give her a sidelong look that makes her blush. She has no fucking idea what I could do to her. What I want to do to her.
I turn back to the watering hole to refill my shell, though it takes everything in me not to lay her down and kiss her so thoroughly she begs for more. I want to tear her clothes off and make her mine, right here on the bank. The need is so pressing I’m shaking when I bring the shell to my lips.
I stand, and don’t look at her. I don’t trust myself.
We stand in silence for long minutes. I’m lost to my thoughts that quickly turn to fantasy. It doesn’t matter if I’m finally losing my mind, or if I’m just starved for human affection. I need to school my thoughts, control my impulses.
The memory of Will in the woods, Eugene’s dead body, and the bodies of the others we’ve lost, does just that.
“Show me where you wash?” she asks.
I nod. “This way. Stay close,” I order.
Her eyes narrow on me, and I realize she’s hurt, maybe feeling scorned even. She’d better not do something foolish and reckless on the way.
“I want something clear. We’re not fucking around here. Don’t get any ideas in your head. You get me?”
Her pretty eyes narrow. “Ideas in my head?” she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What on earth are you talking about?” She snorts and turns away from me, rolling her eyes heavenward.
I shake my head. “I’m talking about staying safe. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Safe,” she repeats.
“Safe. Now follow me and behave yourself.”
I know I’m being a dick. I know I’m an asshole. But in the middle of an idyllic place like this, it might be easy to forget the danger that lurks in every corner.
Regardless of her objection, she follows me down through the woods and back to the beach. We walk in silence for the five minutes it takes to get there. I’m watching for any sign I can find of anything at all out of place, but I see nothing. I frown. This isn’t right. Nothing here is.
A flutter of wings overhead catches her attention. “Oh, wow. What kind of birds are those?”
“Pretty sure it’s a kind of duck, or somehow related. They make for good eating,” I respond. I have no idea what they’re called. We didn’t have them in the northwest.
“Oh, ew. God, I don’t want to get used to that.”
“To what?” I ask over my shoulder, as we take the final steps to the beach.
“Eating roadkill.”
“Here we go again. There’s a big difference between eating roadkill and surviving off the land,” I protest.
I look over my shoulder at her, frowning.
“Here we go again is right. What the hell do you expect?” she retorts.
This girl will end up over my lap before the night’s through. Ha. Fucking twist my arm.
She follows behind me, muttering to herself. “Not this,” she says, and her voice is strained as if she’s trying not to cry. I turn to see her wincing with every step she takes. Christ, I forgot she doesn’t have her sandals on, and her feet aren’t yet accustomed to this terrain.
“You need help?” I ask her, pausing with my hands on my hips. I could easily swing her up and on my back or in my arms and help her get to the beach, but I’m not sure she won’t slap my face if I do it without asking her.
Not that I care.
“What do you mean?” she says, swiping angrily at tears I’m sure she doesn’t want me to see.
“I could carry you.”
Her jaw clenches, and I can tell this is killing her. I don’t know much about this woman, but from what little she’s told me, I know she’s worked her ass off getting to where she is. I know that it takes great effort for her to admit defeat.
“I’m fine,” she says, though her voice wobbles and she doesn’t meet my eyes.