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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ELLIOT

When I wake in the morning, Hank is still passed out. He’s flat on his back on the dry needles, and he’s snoring under each breath.

I blink a few times, reorienting myself.

We remain stuck on the island. It’s one mishap after another.

And I hooked up with Hank.

I carefully extract myself and go to drink water. Not only did Hank and I hook up, we had sparks. He’s being Hank and acting cautious, but the energy is still there between us, warm as a campfire while he held me close all night, a strong arm around my torso and against my chest.

Despite everything, I felt safe.

I sit next to the creek and refresh in my underwear, now ripped on the side. The rocks are pointy on my butt, but I’m used to it.

It only makes sense that stranded sex is amazing.

Horny and a little unhinged. And Hank is pretty amazing, too, honestly.

In civilization, with our actual lives around us, we probably make zero sense.

But right now, as long as we’re stuck on this island, it seems to me that Hank and I are a great idea.

We might be strangers, but I feel like Hank has seen a part of me that I’m still getting to know myself. Who we are to each other is surprising and unique, and a deep, instinctual urge goes through me when I think of him.

This is a unique combination of circumstance and sexual compatibility, and I am all about enjoying the one weirdly fun thing that’s come from our ordeal.

I splash cold water on my face, hoping that he still feels the same way after a solid sleep.

The sun comes out, climbing into a clear sky. After putting the wood for the shelter fire out to finish drying, I head straight to the beach to work on the signals. Hopefully, Hank will sleep in and get something close to a proper rest.

After a little time pulling branches from the woods, I spot him wandering down the beach. He’s in his boxer briefs and his filthy T-shirt, scratching his beard as he unevenly steps.

“Hank!” I yell. My voice comes out in a rasp, but when I try again, it works. “Over here!”

“Morning,” he says as he approaches, and I see he’s gathered more bitter flower greens. “Nice branches.”

I smile, glad to see him. “Thanks. See you got a breakfast haul.”

He pulls one mushroom from the greens, and my stomach rumbles.

“Scant on protein.” He breaks the mushroom in half and gives me part, which he follows with some cattail shoots.

“But considering our shoe construction has improved enough to last multiple days, we can start using cattail as a food source. And all these rains should bring fungus.”

I nod as I chew my half of the small mushroom. “The earthy flavor is growing on me.” When I nibble the cattail, it’s a little fibrous, but it tastes a bit like cucumber. “Not bad.”

Hank munches on a shoot. “It’s surprisingly pleasant.”

“I think that’s because of starvation.”

“Probably.”

We munch on the unsatisfying flower greens, too. “Should we try a berry bush?” I ask.

Hank nods in the affirmative, and we head into the trees. We have our regular check-in conversation, surveying our growing list of injuries and pains. When we arrive to the good bushes, there’s a flourish of movement, and I step back as a flock of birds seems to explode out of nowhere and fly away.

The berry bush remains, stripped bare.

“God damn songbirds,” I say.

Hank leans against a tree. “Motherfuckers,” he agrees.

I sigh and get down on my knees, reaching for a couple tiny remaining berries further back in the shrubs as my stomach rumbles.

“Okay,” I say. “Maybe food has become a priority again.”

Hank starts searching the bush, too. “Berries and flowers seemed sufficient when I thought rescue was around the corner. But you’re right. I’m a bit… famished.”

I glance up at the clear sky. “Whatever happens with the weather, we can have a fire at the shelter today.”

“The fiddlehead ferns might be ready soon,” Hank adds. “They’d be delicious cooked in a clam shell.”

My mouth salivates just thinking about it. When my stomach pangs in response, I place my hand over my belly and sit back, weak.

Hank hands me a shriveled berry. I place it on my tongue and keep it there, sucking a little.

“I’ve thought more about last night,” Hank says.

I nod. “I’ve been thinking, too, about what you said.”

Hank holds my eye while a chipmunk scurries behind him. “We have a connection,” he says. “And you’re right. It’s hot, and there’s little good reason here on the island to ignore that. But we need to be explicit about a few things before we continue.”

“Sure,” I agree. “Like what?”

“Like making certain that this doesn’t come back to ruin my career, or your relationship with your father.”

I frown. “I think we’d be a little late to ruin that.” Hank gives me a sympathetic nod, and I continue. “But yes, I’d much prefer he never learn about this.”

He’d probably find a way to humiliate me in front of Hank.

Hank nods, satisfied by that. “And you’re sure I’m not…” He rubs his beard, looking for the words. “I’m not taking advantage of you in dire circumstances?”

I laugh. Fuck, it’s cute that he’s concerned.

Sitting up, I move over to him. Hank looks slightly surprised, but he doesn’t ease away. Instead, we meet, nearly embracing, and I keep my lips near his.

“Trust me,” I tell him, flirting. “I know what I want.”

Instead of sealing the kiss, I stand, teasing Hank a little. He quickly stands and joins me.

“I’m not taking advantage of you?” I ask back to him. “With my youthful wiles?”

Hank cocks up half a smile. “No, Elliot. Not one little bit.”

This time, I do close the distance, meeting him in a brief kiss. When I step back, I see that Hank’s cheeks are flushed.

“Busy day ahead,” I say. “But if the island starts a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”

Hank scoffs. “Please don’t direct anyone away from rescuing us. Not even in jest. Should we start with…”

He trails off as a buzzing sound grows in the distance.

“Those birds again?” I ask, but it gets louder.

Hank’s eyes get wide. “It’s a… A something!”

He turns and takes off toward the shore, slipping and sliding over the rocks. I scramble after him, my pulse spiking.

The buzzing noise grows louder and stronger, and I hear the roar of a motor rumbling beneath it.

“It’s a boat!” I yell.

“A boat!” Hank yells as he runs into a branch, which knocks him back.

I sprint ahead of him. As I emerge on the shore, I see a speedboat, close to the island and gliding over the water.

Hank lets out a guttural, panicked yell as he scrambles to his feet. I keep running, my legs flailing and aching as I hit the waves, but the boat curves away from the island, and it’s gone.

Tears fall down my face. “What. The. Fuck?” I ask between gasps.

Hank walks into the water and drops to his knees. “Again,” he says. “We missed rescue again.”

We turn to look at each other. Hank’s chest is wet with perspiration, and he’s got new scratches on his face.

He flops onto his back. “I’m going to need a minute to recover from this,” he says.

I walk toward shore and join beside him, lying down in the sand. The waves come to our feet, and Hank is staring straight up.

“That sucked,” I say.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Hank puts his arm around my shoulder, and our bodies slide together, finding their space.

I drag my fingers up his thigh. “Maybe I can help.”

The response coils through Hank’s body, and his cock moves, plumping as I stroke his thigh.

He turns to me. “Elliot,” he says, breathing my name.

His hand moves to my side, and I stroke up, finding his hard dick. His hand roams, too, as pressure builds behind my balls, and we turn to face each other.

Hank’s grip wraps around my erection, and I drag my palm up his thick, hard shaft.

“Don’t let the speedboat get you down,” I murmur, encouraging him as I stroke and match his pace. “You’re the big, strong, wilderness man. I know you’re going to save us.”

Hank hums under his breath, pleased. I feel his cock swelling with the compliments, so I keep going.

“You look so sexy when you’re climbing the tree, lighting the fire,” I tell him.

“Burly and confident. Smart as hell.” Hank spits in his hand, and I hurriedly do the same.

“You know how to keep us safe, wilderness man. And that’s why I’m going to give you and your big cock a nice, satisfying orgasm before we go back and rescue ourselves. ”

Hank presses his forehead to mine, leaning as we jerk each other off. “Fuck, Elliot,” he says with a shaky breath.

Our bodies tangle together. We both lose ourselves in the frantic jerk-off session, groaning and gasping our names back and forth. When we orgasm, we finally kiss, smashing our mouths together, and I feel the scratchy drag of his beard on my stubble.

We ease back, and Hank keeps a hand on my cheek. He holds my face and looks at me for a moment before letting go, and it sends warmth tumbling through me.

I clean myself off in the ocean, very satisfied with how that went. “Alright. Recovered?”

Hank chuckles. “Something like that.”

We help each other to our feet and turn back to shore. The sky is still clear, the day heating up, and high above us, I see a jet leaving a trail.

A pleasant hum of erotic satisfaction lingers on my skin, making everything feel momentarily light, and I smile happily.

“Back to work,” Hank says with a confident nod. “It looks like the weather is clearing.”