“Oh,” she asks breathily, wriggling her ass on my crotch when I roll her nipple between my fingers.
I bend my mouth to her neck and kiss her there, making her giggle.
“That’s ticklish.”
“You know what else is ticklish?”
“No, but something tells me I’m going to find out.”
“Mhm. My stubble between your legs while I eat you out.”
Her gasp says enough. “Cy,” she whispers.
“You ever had that done to you?”
“Of course, I have,” she whispers, but I think she’s lying, because she won’t meet my eyes, she seems really fucking turned on and a little embarrassed.
“Really?” I ask her. “You never had my mouth between your legs.”
“Mmmm,” she moans when I suckle her neck while I roll her nipple between my fingers. “Maybe we… maybe we should go back to the shelter.”
“We could,” I say. I have no interest in laying her out in the middle of the forest when there’s snakes and insects everywhere we turn. “But you said you were tired.”
“Not like I have to get up for work tomorrow,” she says, but her laugh fades to sighing.
I stand and lift her in my arms, carrying her to the shelter. If she starts talking about work, she’ll get all melancholy again. She’ll be reminded of Daniel, and her home, and the job that she left behind that she loves. When I carry her, she lays her head on my shoulder.
“Cy?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you think they think I’m dead?”
“I don’t know, baby,” I say truthfully.
“I hate the idea of Daniel thinking I’m gone,” she says ruefully. “Who will take care of him?”
“There’s nothing you can do about that right now,” I tell her. I want to draw her to my chest and soothe her. Rock her until she falls asleep in my arms, no longer worried about what she can’t control. The woman brings out a tenderness in me unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. There’s more than just raw sexual attraction here. It’s far deeper than that. Stripped away from anything superfluous, we’re left exposed and vulnerable. Apart from civilization, we’ve only got each other.
“You’re right,” she says with a sigh. “I can’t. But maybe we can send some signals or something.”
I smile to myself. “Maybe, yeah.”
“Maybe the helicopter will come back.”
“I hope so. But for now, the only thing I want on your mind is my mouth on your pussy.”
“Cy,” she protests in a whisper.
“Harper,” I whisper back.
“That’s so dirty.”
I go on. “I can’t wait to taste you. To suck your sweet clit until you lose your mind.”
“Oh God,” she says on a moan. “You know, I could do the same thing.”
The vision of her sucking me off makes me groan out loud.
“Fuck yes, you could.”
I carry her back to the little shelter she’s made into a home. She keeps it tidied and surprisingly pretty, gathering wildflowers and placing them in empty coconut shells, sweeping it, and straightening the blanket. She’s resourceful, and has our food stores neatly organized and arranged, our weapons hidden, but sharpened and ready. It’s almost cozy here, and there’s something about it that disturbs me a little.
I don’t want to grow complacent.
I don’t want to accept this as our new norm.
I want to be sure that no matter what happens, we don’t lose sight of the fact that we want off this island. That we still have our entire lives to live. That this isn’t where we’ll die.
I won’t accept this. I have to be sure she doesn’t, either.
So, though we make sure we’ve taken care of everything necessary and made our stay here as comfortable as we can, I don’t lose sight of the fact that this is temporary. That we aren’t meant to stay here forever, and someday we’ll either find our way off this island or be rescued.
I hate being passive. I don’t want to wait here for someone to come along, but hell if I can find a way off this fucking place.
She mentioned the idea of us being near another island, when the helicopter flew overhead. And there’s a distinct possibility that we are indeed somewhat close to civilization. The thought kills me, to think we pushed ourselves to such extremes when civilization might be near. But there’s no safe way for us to find out.
Or we could very well be truly isolated, far from anyone and anything remotely civilized. If only we knew. If only we fucking knew.
Harper gives me a coy look from where she stands, over by our bed. I don’t know what she found or how she did it, but she’s somehow made our bed thicker, more comfortable, and softer. With no artificial light, we go to bed when the sun sets and wake when it rises, and between having her next to me, the rigorous physical efforts every day of survival on this island requires, and the more comfortable bed situation, I sleep like a baby.