Desert Island

“Geez, I really hope a cargoship of Pinot Noir hits a storm and a few crates fall over,” I say with a laugh. “I’m going to miss that.”

He smiles as our eyes meet once again. “There are other things to keep oneself intoxicated,” he says in that deep sexy voice of his.

“Like what?”

The breeze is taking a strand of my hair for a ride and he tucks it behind my ear as he gazes down at me. “Like love.”

My eyes drift down to his lips and I have a sudden wish that he’ll lean down and kiss me. My chin tilts up.

Whoa. This is moving way too fast.

I whip my head around and suddenly stand up, wiping the sand off my pashmina. Carson looks up in shock, not knowing where he went wrong.

He didn’t do anything wrong and that’s the problem.

We can’t go down this road. We can’t kiss!

That’s like kissing your roommate or kissing your coworker, but even worse! There’s no moving to another apartment or switching jobs when things go horribly wrong. We’re stuck together. Forever! We have to keep this platonic, no matter how tempting the alternative is.

“Thanks again for dinner,” I say as I look down the beach at my ex still caught in the bushes. “It was wonderful, but I’m really tired now.”

He nods as he gets up and gathers his things—the bowls, the spear, the coconut glasses.

“I’m going to go get my friend,” I say as I hurry over to get Jeffrey. “He’ll make a great pillow.”

The sand is cool under my feet and it feels nice as I jog along the beach and grab him.

“Hello, old friend,” I whisper when I grab Jeffrey’s arm and yank him out of the bushes.

I slowly walk back to Carson, feeling disappointed and let down, like I ruined the moment. Like I did the wrong thing, even though I know that I didn’t. It’s smart to keep it platonic. It’s the rational thing to do.

We head back to our camp and he insists on giving me the hammock.

“Fine, then take Jeffrey,” I say, feeling awful that I’m taking his sleeping spot. “You can use him as a pillow.”

He looks at the half-deflated cock bent at a weird angle and scrunches his face up. “I think I’d rather use a rock.”

I laugh. “He’s not so bad. Turn him around and sleep on his back.”

Carson’s eyebrows raise as I show him Jeffrey’s hairy back and flat ass.

“I’ll be fine,” he says as he lays down on the hard-packed sand, using his big round bicep as a pillow.

If he’s not going to use it, then I will. I lay on the hammock, resting my head on Jeffrey’s back, and gaze up at the stars, feeling a bit tipsy, feeling freer than I’ve ever felt before.

I can sleep in tomorrow. I won’t have to get up early and rush to the airport. I won’t have to sit in traffic.

My mouth curls up into a smile as the warmth of the wine mixes with the warm feeling of having a nice romantic dinner with a gorgeous man. I turn in the hammock and see Carson watching me. I don’t shy away. I stare back at him.

Those eyes… there’s something special in them. Something territorial. Something possessive. He’s looking at me like I’m already his…

And as I watch him, slowly drifting off to sleep, I think he might be right.

I am his.

And he’s mine.

Or, at least we will be each others’ soon.

Bad idea or not, it seems to be inevitable at this point.

It seems like fate.

“That’s it, my love,” Carson says as he drags his hard cock along my cheek. “Put that big dick in your mouth.”

I moan as I feel his swollen tip on my lips, sliding over them and making my mouth water. My lips part and my tongue shyly pokes out, tasting him.

“Mmmmm,” I moan as my pussy gets hotter and wetter. I squirm on the hammock and then my eyes dart open when I feel a cock dragging along my cheek.

“What the fuck?!”

Jeffrey got turned around under my head while I was sleeping and now his inflatable dick is trying to get into my mouth.

“Get the fuck off me!” I shout as I grab him and throw him off.

Shit, I really hope that Carson didn’t see that whole embarrassing ordeal. I sit up quickly, laughing nervously as I look around, but the area is empty. The spot that Carson slept on is vacant, the outline of his huge body still visible on the hard-packed sand.

I feel a sense of loss and emptiness with him no longer by my side, but seeing the plate of fruit and note he left for me eases it a bit.

There’s a delicious-looking platter of mango and berries on a flat rock with a note written in the sand next to it. I smile as I pick up the red flower he left for me and smell it.