Page 24 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

It doesn’t take long before I can hear the sounds of both men’s heavy breathing as they sleep. They probably haven't had a good night's rest since they crashed on the island. There’s no way they slept well at the hospital. They’re probably exhausted.

But try as I may, I find it impossible to go to sleep. The room is eerily quiet, and I find myself missing the noises of the jungle .

I’m not sure how long I lay there. An hour? Four hours? But the sound of the door creaking open has my head turning. I watch Kingsley step into the room, the light from the hall helping me see who it is.

He takes a few steps into the room before he whispers, “Darla? Why aren’t you asleep? Did I wake you?”

“I can’t sleep,” I admit.

He moves closer, standing at the end of the bed, watching me for a moment before he asks, “Is it too quiet?”

I nod, then huff out a breath or annoyance. “I know it’s stupid.”

“Not stupid at all,” he whispers, turning towards the patio door. Since this room is at the back of the house, it opens onto the large deck. Kingsley pushes the door open and pulls the curtain across, allowing the sounds of the outside world to drift in.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and listen.

The steady chirp of crickets fills the air, and in the distance, waves crash gently against the shore.

A soft smile tugs at my lips as the sounds wrap around me, and my body finally begins to truly relax.

When I open my eyes, I see Kingsley heading toward the other door.

“Where are you going?” I ask in worry.

He stops in his tracks and slowly turns to face me. I can’t quite make out his expression in the dim light, but I’m afraid to speak again. I might say something crazy like, “Don’t leave me.”

“I can stay if you want me to.”

Realizing I said that out loud, I pinch my lips in frustration before I whisper, “But do you want to stay? ”

“I—”

He cuts himself off, and my heart instantly clenches, as if all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. My eyes fill with heartbroken tears. More than anything, I’m frustrated that I’m about to cry… again!

I push myself into a seated position so I can see him better. “Why are you pulling away? Do you not want me anymore?”

“I—”

This time I cut him off, my fears over the past few days all coming to the surface at once.

“Are you disgusted by me now? Because of what they did to me? Or because of what I did to them? You can tell me. I can take it. Just stop doing… this.” I wave my hand around in his direction. It’s a lie. I can’t handle it, but at least I’ll know.

He opens his mouth to answer, but Bower jumps out of bed, startling us both. He moves over to Kingsley, wraps his hand around the back of his neck, and forcibly leads him over to the side of the bed. Grabbing the bottom of Kingsley's shirt, he yanks it over his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Unless you want me to take your pants off, too, you better do it yourself. Now.” I’ve never heard Bower speak so aggressively before, and it’s honestly a big turn on. But I tell myself not to get distracted by that as I try to figure out what he’s doing with Kingsley.

“West, shuffle back a bit, we need more room.” Weston grunts but does as Bower asks, moving closer to his edge of the bed, and dragging me with him.

When Kingsley kicks his pants off, Bower points to the empty spot beside me. “Get in. Hug our woman, and tell her you love her.”

“Bower!” We both hiss at once .

Kingsley slowly climbs in as I narrow my eyes at Bower. “You can’t force someone to say that.”

“He’s being a fucking idiot right now. He was making you cry. That’s not okay.”

“Is that true?” Kingsley asks, settling beside me.

“No,” I lie, looking down at my fidgeting fingers. I can feel him staring at me and I only move when Bower speaks.

“Lie down, both of you,” Bower orders, and we both do as he says, lying back on the pillows as we stare at the ceiling.

After a minute of silence, Bower huffs out a breath. “What is wrong with you, King? Why won’t you even touch her right now? Have you changed your mind?”

My gut clenches at the question, but Kingsley is quick to respond this time.

“No!”

“Then what is it?” Bower growls out. Weston’s arm tightens around me, helping to hold me together.

“I just… I don’t know if she…”

“Dummy, talk to her , not me.”

Kingsley turns his head, and I look at him, hoping that he’s not about to break my heart.

“I’m bad at this,” he admits.

“You sure are,” I agree, getting a small twitch of a smile from him.

I press my lips together tightly, trying to stop myself from talking. I really want him to explain what’s going on.

His eyes trail down my body and he raises a hand, holding it over the side of my face as he asks, “May I?” I nod, not quite sure what he’s asking for permission to do .

He gently lowers a finger to my forehead, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before settling his palm on my cheek.

“God, Darla. You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, his eyes roaming my face.

“Uh… thank you,” I whisper awkwardly as my cheeks heat.

“I don’t think you understand how special you are. How rare. You could choose to be with just about any man you wanted, and I’m afraid one day you’re gonna wake up and realize you don’t need me.”

“Kingsl—”

“No, let me finish.” I bite my lip, wanting to reassure him but realizing he needs to get this off his chest first.

“I’m not funny like Bower, I can’t protect you like West, and I don’t have the history with you like Reece has. Where does that leave me? If I fully give you my heart, if I tell you how madly in love with you I am, and you grow tired of me, I don’t think I would recover from that.”

His eyes turn pained and even though my heart is jumping with joy at his confession that he loves me, I reach my hand out, placing it on his naked chest in an attempt to soothe him. “Kingsley, I wish you could see yourself like I do.”

My hand moves up to his cheek, mirroring his position. “Bower brings me light, Weston gives me strength, and Reece stands as my shield. But you…” I say, my thumb stroking his cheek as I stare into his deep blue eyes. “You, Kingsley Voss, you’re my rock.”

I watch his throat move as he swallows heavily. “I thought Steve was your rock?”

I shake my head. “Not anymore. Not now that I have you. You’re the one I go to when I need someone who’s not going to overreact or get upset when I do something wrong. ”

Weston grunts behind me, and Kingsley and I smirk at each other. “You’re the steady one, the man I can lean on when things get tough. But not just for me, for all of us. You’re not just my rock, you’re the rock of our group.”

“If he’s the rock, what am I?” Bower pipes up behind Kingsley, making me smile.

“You’re our light.”

Weston's hand tightens on me, as if he’s silently asking the same question. “Weston, you’re our strength, our protector.”

“And what are you?” Bower asks.

“She’s our heart,” Kingsley answers instantly, before he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. My skin heats with awareness the second he touches me, and my body tingles with anticipation.

My heart feels lighter, finally connected to Kingsley and no longer wondering how he feels. Not wanting to waste another second without saying the words, I lift my head and whisper, “I love you, Kingsley.”

His eyes widen for a second before a big smile covers his face, turning him from handsome to breathtaking. “I love you, too, Darla.”

He kisses me, firmer this time, and I rub my legs together with need. Weston groans from behind me. “Baby, you heard Bower, no getting frisky while you’re recovering.”

Kingsley pulls back, then grabs my hand and holds it against his chest. He smiles at me as he whispers, “Goodnight, Darla.”

“Goodnight Kingsley. Night Bower, night Weston.”

“Sweet dreams, Tink.”

“Night… again,” Weston grumbles from behind me, making me chuckle. And this time when I close my eyes, it doesn’t take me long to fall asleep in the arms of the men that I love… and who love me in return.