“Now.” I lower my voice to that growl that seemed to raise goosebumps on her skin. It works. Her nostrils flare as her pupils dilate with anticipation.
“What if I don’t want to listen?” Her tone is challenging.
“Then run.”
She takes off a second later. I give her a head start before I run after her. Her giggles allure me from between the trees. I know where she is every step of the way, but I like the chase as it turns out. And she likes being chased. So we play.
Until I catch her by the waterfall, and we do the thing I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw her naked. I fuck her from behind. While her cries are muffled by the sound of the falling water and my hand.
Tomorrow, we will talk.
24
Maeve
I wake up to a loud sound that seems too foreign in the natural perfection of this place. Multiple orgasms might have scrubbed my brain clear, and it takes me a good minute to comprehend my surroundings.
Rubbing my eyes, I’m trying to figure out where it’s coming from. It’s not Ezra’s heartbeat that has become all too familiar at this point. It’s something else.
He’s still sleeping soundly with his hand thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. I peek outside—it’s still early. The island’s just waking up. The sun shines right in my face, and I have to shield my eyes from it in order to see anything.
A boat. A fucking boat!
I rush back inside and shake his shoulder. “Ezra, wake up! There’s a boat here!”
“What?” he mumbles as he tries opening his eyes.
“A boat!” I cry out and press my mouth to his in a happy kiss. “They found us!”
It’s natural to assume his face would turn happy. But it’s not the case. Instead, dark shadows instantly cloud his eyes, and his lips form a thin line. His jaw sets, and I can even see muscles moving under his skin.
He slowly climbs out of the place that has become our home for the past few days.
“Ezra.” I touch his hand. “What’s wrong?”
But he pulls away from my touch like I’m some sort of fly on his sleeve.
“Ezra?” My voice turns small.
His ice-cold eyes turn to me. “Not now. We’ll talk later.”
That was vague. And cold. Detached. Not at all like the man who was with me yesterday. Yes, we don’t know much about each other, and he promised we’d talk today. But his tone has changed. It’s not promising anymore. It’s… something else.
I step backward, stumbling over my bare feet. The sand feels too cold, the air too muggy. I’m suddenly aware of my half-naked body, so I hug myself with my goosebump-covered arms.
The boat is coming ashore. Before it’s even fully settled, a tall, dark-haired man jumps out of it. He strides toward us. The closer he comes, the faster he walks. When he’s on the shore, he rushes toward Ezra and grips him in a tight hug.
“I thought you were dead, brother,” he says as Ezra hugs him back.
Well, I expected that. Ezra mentioned him having only his brother, so it’s only natural that he’d be the one coming to his rescue.
“Not so fast,” Ezra laughs, smacking his brother on the back. His voice is different, carefree. Not like he was a minute ago with me.
When they’re done with their hugs, the man turns toward me.
“And who are you, Friday?”
“I am Crusoe, he’s Friday.” I point at Ezra, making his brother laugh. I expect my beachside companion to laugh with us, but he doesn’t. His face remains stoic when he looks at me.
