Page 10

Chief Styles Sawyer

Sawyer hauled ass toward the clear running water, hollering over his shoulder. “This is drinkable, right? It’s not poison?”

The sound of Oakley’s light laughter mingling with the gentle gurgle of the stream was all the affirmation he needed.

The oppressive weight of extreme thirst had been bearing down on him from the moment Oakley had pulled him out of the river. His tongue felt like sandpaper, and his throat ached as if it’d been scraped by barbed wire.

Without checking around to see if anything dangerous was also partaking—he didn’t give a shit—he fell to his knees at the edge of the stream.

With trembling hands, he scooped the cool liquid to his lips and swallowed what tasted like pure ecstasy.

Each drink was a wave of rejuvenation, washing away two days of parched torment and reviving his senses.

Oakley knelt beside him and dipped his head under the running water before he opened his mouth wide.

Once Sawyer had drank all he could, he cupped both hands and splashed some on his face. The sting was so intense it knocked him back on his ass.

He hollered loud enough that Oakley ran to his side.

“Fuck, that fuckin’ burns!”

“I know. Come on, on your feet.” Oakley helped him up once again, took his hand, and pulled him back to the water. “You gotta clean it, then I have something that’ll ease the stinging.”

Sawyer removed his jacket and undershirt and got his first look at the reddened skin and bruises on his right side. It wasn’t as bad as his face and neck, but it might leave some scars.

He clenched his teeth, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes as he ducked his head back under the water and took his time washing his hair and cleaning the burns the best he could.

By the time he finished, Oakley had started another fire and was roasting some palm-sized fish on more bamboo skewers.

He put his T-shirt back on but left his jacket unbuttoned as he sat beside Oakley on one of the rocks.

“Where’d you get those?”

Oakley stabbed at the small fire, keeping the flames blazing.

“There’s a deeper pond a little ways down. It’s full of these. It had some decent-sized snails too if you like escargot.”

Sawyer’s stomach rebelled even at the thought.

“Fish is fine.”

Oakley handed one of the stalks to him, watching him pick at the white flesh before putting some in his own mouth.

It didn’t taste like his favorite—Chilean seabass—but it was better than snake meat.

They ate in silence—apart from the intrusive animal noises—until nothing remained of the little guppies but bones.

“How does your face feel now?” Oakley asked as he scooted closer.

“Dry…achy.”

“Come ’ere. Turn and face me.”

Oakley cupped his left cheek and gently palpated the sensitive skin on his neck.

“It’s not infected, and not all of the blisters have burst, so that’s good.”

“Are you a doctor too?” Sawyer asked because he didn’t know what else to say.

The way Oakley had been caring for him was a lot. He wasn’t used to being nurtured or protected. He was the protector.

Sawyer flinched when Oakley touched a sore area on his lower jaw.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s fine.” He shrugged, easing back. “I’m sure it’ll heal at some point in my life. Scars never bothered me.”

“They don’t bother me either,” Oakley whispered, staring into his eyes.

He was able to breathe easier when Oakley got up, went back to the edge of the pond, and began pulling the leaves he’d gathered during their journey from his pockets.

Sawyer used his swatter to bat away a large spider trying to climb onto his boot, careful not to upset Oakley by killing it. The other insects didn’t bother him as much anymore, but he didn’t do spiders.

Oakley laid out some of the dampened leaves on a smooth stone and the others he put on a stone close to the fire.

Sawyer gave Oakley an incredulous look when he pointed to his lap.

“Lie down.”

Da fuck?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Oakley rumbled. “Lie your ass down so I can treat those burns.”

“With that?” He pointed at the slimy leaves.

“Yes.” He frowned. “People all over the world have been using that as antiseptic for centuries.”

Sawyer shook his head.

“What do you think anti-inflammatories, analgesics, and astringents are made from? Huh? You think they magically come in pill and liquid forms. Then just suddenly appear on the shelves at Walgreens.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes.

“Exactly. A lot of medicine is harvested from right here in this rainforest. This Cordoncillo leaf has tons of antiseptic properties and will disinfect those open cuts. And it also has numbing agents that are used in making Novocain.”

Numbing sounded good.

Sawyer sat, then turned and laid his head on Oakley’s thighs. Staring up at him from that angle made him think of what it’d be like to have Oakley stretched out on top of him and buried deep inside him.

“The heated Matico plant is an anti-inflammatory and will also reduce the pain and swelling.”

Oakley kept talking like a scientist as he rubbed the leaves from Sawyer’s temple to his throat, oblivious to Sawyer’s increasing arousal.

“There are plants all around us that act as aphrodisiacs too.” Oakley smirked. “But I didn’t pick any of those…unless you want me to.”

When he didn’t laugh, Oakley’s smile faded as they stared into each other’s eyes for a long time.

Sawyer had never met anyone as smart as the man holding him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Oakley whispered.

“I can’t help it.” Sawyer ran the pad of his thumb across Oakley’s eyelids. “It’s those damn eyes.”

Add the fact that intelligence was his biggest turn-on, and Sawyer wouldn’t need any aphrodisiacs.

He hummed when Oakley ran his fingertips through his wet hair while he dabbed pieces of the warm leaf along his singed scalp.

It was almost dark by the time Oakley was done, but he’d be damned if he didn’t feel ten times better. His skin felt moisturized as if he’d been massaged with aloe lotion, and the pain was minimal, enough to give him a glimmer of hope.

How would he thank Oakley for all of this when they made it out of there?

“Where are we sleeping?” he asked, glancing up at the trees around them.

None of them looked able to support them.

“We’re gonna sleep on these rocks.”

“On the ground.”

“No, on one of those big ones over there.”

Oakley pointed to the smooth stones beside the pond before he began throwing more sticks on the fire.

“I’ll just have to make a big enough fire to keep the animals away.”

Sawyer didn’t sit on his ass, basking in his remedies and freshly cared-for skin. He got up and began to search for smaller stones to surround the fire to form a pit.

“The trick will be not letting it go out in the middle of the night.”

Sawyer blinked, remembering the jaguar.

“We’ll take shifts, okay.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll take the first one,” Sawyer volunteered.

Oakley walked up to him and took his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He surveyed his work, his mouth so close that Sawyer could feel his warm breath.

“The swelling is already going down.”

“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to say this before we’re back stateside”—Sawyer put his hands on Oakley’s waist—“but thank you.”

The chief’s smile and gorgeous eyes were beautiful in the warm glow of the firelight. He wanted to get down on his knees and show his appreciation in all the different ways he knew how.

“You’re about to thank me again.” Oakley smirked.

Sawyer couldn’t stop his moan as he pulled their hips closer.

“Not for that…at least not yet.”

“Then what?” Sawyer dragged the tip of his tongue along Oakley’s bottom lip, unable to help himself.

The other man’s constant display of bravery, immense intelligence, and abilities made Sawyer fall faster and harder every minute they were together.

He wanted the other chief as badly as he wanted to get out of the fucking jungle. But what if they didn’t survive? He’d die never having had Chief Aiken Oakley inside him.

Oakley’s eyes flashed with desire as he licked away the flavor Sawyer had left on his lips.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Oakley’s voice was deep and sexy, sending shivers down his spine.

The demand was odd but whispered with such sensuality that Sawyer complied without second guessing.

“You trust me that much?”

Behind the darkness of his eyelids and amid the danger of their environment, Sawyer was hypnotized.

“Yes,” he groaned, aching at the forceful way his cock pressed against his fly.

It was the dead-honest truth. He trusted Oakley with his life. There was no reason for him to doubt his safety.

“Then open for me.”

Like a good boy, he did what he was told, his dick pulsing harder with each second of anticipation.

Oakley moaned a melodic sound that ghosted over his tongue with the cool evening breeze before something juicy and plump was placed between his lips.

A scent of fruity sweetness preceded the taste of honey-like nectar as he bit down on whatever he’d been given.

Oh damn.

Intrigue and delight filled him as he chewed that small chunk, swallowed it, and immediately opened for more.

“Mm-hmm.” Oakley’s smile could be felt against his cheek as a larger piece slid inside his mouth. “I knew you’d like that.”

Sawyer opened his heavy-lidded eyes to find Oakley gazing hungrily at his mouth.

“What is that?”

“Papaya fruit. I found the plant when I was catching the fish.”

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever had fruit that sweet.”

“Let me taste.”

Oakley smoothed another piece across Sawyer’s lips before he slipped it inside and followed right behind it with his tongue.

Fuck, not again.

The last time they got lost in tasting each other, a jaguar almost ate them.

But the memory of that threat wasn’t enough to make him stop.