"I'll come with you," he countered.
"I'm a big girl. I know how to use the bathroom."
"Maybe I need help," he said and shifted. Once again, I was met with the thing that lived inside his pants.
I gasped. "Does that thing ever go down?" I blurted out.
He threw back his head and laughed. He laughed so hard I felt his belly rumble against my back.
"I can't help it. It's my morning wood." He said it like he was proud.
"Your what?" I said, trying to turn around to look at him. He wouldn't let me go. If anything, he pressed it farther against me. Dammit if my body didn't start to respond. I felt the rush of liquid heat between my legs.
"My morning wood," he said again.
Should I know what that means? I guess when I failed to respond, he realized I had no clue what he was talking about. He spun me around, pinning me with that penetrating green gaze. "Have you ever spent the night with a man before?"
I acted like I was offended. "That's none of your business."
"That'd be a no."
I glared at him.
He released me. "It happens in sleep, sweetheart," he explained. "All men wake up with a hard on."
So it wasn't just me. Well, damn, there went my ego. "So that is natural?" I couldn't help but glance down at the massive lump in his shorts.
"In the morning, yes."
"But what about the other times?"
A slow smile spread over his scruffy face. "Those times were all you."
Oh. Oh my.
I wanted to pat my broken vagina on the back. If it had one, that is.
"Well, I'm going to go do my business now," I said, turning away.
"I'm coming with you."
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because I have to pee," he offered.
"Fine." My shoulders slumped and I hopped out of the plane.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked.
I heaved a sigh. "I wanted to go look for fruit for you before you woke up."
"You wanted to find me breakfast?"
I nodded. It sounded stupid when he said it.
He caught me around the waist again and tugged. I tumbled right against his chest. His very bare, shirtless chest. His lips swooped down, but his kiss wasn't like the impassioned one we shared yesterday. This one was softer, lighter. It caused a fluttering sensation inside me that made my heart stutter. I could literally feel it bouncing around beneath my ribcage.
Before he pulled away completely, he bestowed several brief kisses one right after the other, ending with one on the tip of my nose. "Thank you."
My hands rested over his chest against him warm skin. "I didn't do anything," I grumbled.
"I don't think going off on your own is a smart idea, especially after what we heard last night."
"I wasn't going off alone. I was just going to look right here, outside the plane." Why did saying that out loud make it seem like a dumb idea? I wondered if I dyed my hair brown would I get smarter … ?
"Why don't we go look around for fruit together?" he suggested, making me forget my home makeover ideas.
I didn't answer because my stomach growled loudly, replying for me.
"I actually have to go to the bathroom. Don't go anywhere," he said, giving me a hard look.
Seconds later, he came back and disappeared into the plane to get some shoes and reappeared with all the empty water bottles, including the empty can of Coke. "Maybe we can find a freshwater source," he said, motioning to the bottles. "If not, we're going to have to start boiling some sea water."
I took a second to grab my messenger bag and slide it over my shoulders, slipping the bottles inside. I really hoped we found some food. I was so hungry I felt lightheaded.
"Stay close to me," Nash murmured as we traveled deeper into the florae. I gave him a sidelong glance, wondering if he was ever going to put a shirt back on. ‘Course if he did, I would totally miss the view. The way his shorts hung low on his hips displayed his long, solid torso, and I think I might have started to drool a little.
I looked away. I was acting ridiculous. It was totally lack of food.
"What do you think that was last night?" I whispered, feeling like there were a million eyes staring at us as we moved.
"I'm not sure. It sounded a little like people and music."
I nodded. That's what I thought too. "But this place looks completely untouched."
"This side of the island. Maybe it's bigger than we realize and maybe on the other side there are people."
"Who would live way out here where there's nothing?" I wondered.
"Exactly," he said, his voice low like he hadn't wanted me to hear.
But I did. And it brought back that fear I felt last night.
A little while later, Nash stopped and tilted his head. "Hey, you hear that?"
I listened, not making out much over the loud chatter of the wildlife.
"It sounds like water."
I perked up and listened harder. It was very faint, but once he pointed it out, the sound was undeniable.
"This way."
He walked for what felt like hours (probably only minutes) and with each step, the sound of falling water drew closer and closer.
Nash pushed through very large plants with huge leaves and a few palm-looking trees and stopped. I ran right into his back because I wasn't paying any attention. I was too busy staring a beautiful pink flower close by.
He let out a whoop of joy and stepped to the side so I could see too. There just ahead lay a small lagoon-type pond and pouring into it was a short but wide waterfall.
Both of us rushed forward toward the water, but something caught my eye and I turned. Oval-shaped green fruit grew from a plant very close by. I changed course and rushed over, plucking one of the fruits and palming it. It was about the size of my hand and boasted a fresh green skin.
It was an avocado.
I'd never seen any of these plants in person before. This was something we could live on. It was full of healthy fats and fiber, something that would definitely help keep Nash from starving.
"Ava?" Nash called.
I looked over my shoulder with a smile, only to realize I'd gotten farther away from him than I thought. I hadn't even paid attention I was so intent on getting to the food.
"Ava," he called again, more urgency to his voice. He wasn't in sight anymore, but I heard the water splash.
"Over here," I shouted, not wanting him to worry.
"Where?"
"I found food!" I exclaimed, turning to rush back the way I came. My foot caught on a huge root growing up out of the earth and I tripped, the fruit in my arms tumbling to the ground, and I cried out as I fell.
Someone caught the back of my shirt, literally grasping the fabric and halting my plunge forward. Before I could make sense of what was happening, an arm looped around my middle and the hand released my shirt. As I was pulled upright, I turned, wondering how in the world Nash found me so fast.
It wasn't Nash.
It was another man.
The arm at my waist tightened when I looked into his dark eyes.
I screamed.
8
I heard my name being yelled and the thrashing of foliage behind me, but I didn't look. I was transfixed by this new pair of dark-brown eyes.
"Whoa," he said, his voice sounding so foreign to my ears. After days of hearing no one speak but Nash, this was a little startling.
"Are you okay?" he asked. His sweeping gaze reminded me of the coffee I so desperately missed. I opened my mouth to answer, but I never got the chance. I was ripped away from the rich stare. Nash pushed me behind him and then drew his fist back like he was going to plant it in this guy's face.
"Wait!" I said, grabbing him just below the elbow to restrain him. His muscles strained beneath my palm and I thought he might follow through with the hit, but he held back. "He didn't hurt me. I tripped and he was helping me up."
My words sank in as Nash dropped his hand and flexed his fist at his side. Then he nodded curtly.
The man hadn't said anything at all. He just watched us both like he was utterly fascinated. Like he hadn't seen a person in a very long time.
Maybe he hadn't.
"Who are you?" I asked, curious, stepping out around Nash, who brought out his arm to keep me from getting any closer.
"My name's Duke," the man replied, gazing at me intently. He had a very even, unwavering stare when he looked at me. It was like I was the only thing in this world.
He was also very tan, like Nash, but his hair was straight and a lighter shade of brown, like a deep caramel color. It was long, brushing the back of his shirt, the ends flipping up and the rest tucked behind his ears. He had a straight, prominent nose and full lips. But the most captivating feature on his face was his eyes, deep and mysterious. I had a feeling I could stare into those eyes for hours and still not be any closer to figuring out what went on behind them.
He was tall, but not nearly as tall as Nash. He was probably a few inches taller than me. He wasn't a huge guy, but he wasn't real small either. He was thin and it made me wonder if it was because he was being held captive by this place like us-except he'd been here longer.
He definitely appeared more at ease here, and his clothes showed signs of wear. He was wearing a white T-shirt that was no longer quite white. It hung loose over a pair of jeans that were frayed around the ankles, and his feet were bare. His right cheek boasted a smear of dirt and I had the urge to brush it away.