William

“Why, yes,” he says, raising his perfectly manicured eyebrows and smiling, glancing back to his car. “The research station is a short drive from here, I hope you know—but don’t worry, there’s hardly any travel, so you won’t have to get used to the sounds of planes flying overhead.” Without warning, he reaches down and picks up my luggage as if it were full of feathers, and he starts to load them into the car neatly, leaving me blinking at him in surprise.

Is this some kind of joke? There is no way a guy that hot just lives out here in the middle of nowhere. And the more I look at him, the more I suspect he isn’t actually my ride. I mean, what kind of driver has a car like that? But he did know right where the research station is when I mentioned it...who else would know that?

After he loads my stuff into the car, he steps around to the passenger’s side and holds his hand out to me to help me in. “Please, after you,” he says, and I’m so taken aback I just reflexively reach out my hand and let him set me into the front seat.

“Don’t passengers usually ride in the back?” I say uncertainly, looking around for some kind of meter, assuming him to be a taxi driver or Uber or something. But there’s nothing like that on the dashboard.

“Call it island hospitality,” he says with a good-natured laugh as he gets in and starts the car. The engine roars to life, sending vibrations through the whole car and my seat, and I feel myself a little excited by the sheer energy he must have under the hood.

Damn it, Harper, keep it together! I rally myself, but I realize that I simply can’t tear my eyes from this guy. I’m still not entirely convinced he’s real. I mean, what kind of island has hot British men pull up in powerful cars to pick you up from the airport?

“My name is William, by the way,” he says as we pull out and onto the main roads of the island, if they can be called that. They’re still dirt roads, not a shred of asphalt in sight, and the greenery is threatening to invade every inch of space. “But please, call me Will.”

“Oh,” I said, unused to drivers introducing themselves so casually. “I’m Harper. Harper Emerson. But I suppose you already know that—not that it would be hard to mistake me for someone else, out here,” I joke, forcing a laugh, but the chuckle he gives is sincere, and he flashes a smile at me.

“I think it would be hard to mistake you for someone else anywhere, Harper,” he says, and it takes me a moment to catch his meaning. Is he...hitting on me? Okay, this guy has to be an actor.

“I was about to say the same about you!” I giggle, trying to sound like I’m totally not in over my head talking to this guy. My driver. Is he even my driver? Harper, you idiot, he might as well be a kidnapper, and here you just got into the car with him. Yet somehow, the idea of him kidnapping me didn’t seem all that bad. “But I’ve got to say, I wasn’t expecting to be picked up by someone so...British.”

He laughs again at that, a deep, warm, mirthful laugh that warms me on the inside, wanting to keep him talking. There’s a sort of cool confidence in the way he carries himself that makes me want to listen to him ramble on about...well, anything.

“And I wasn’t expecting to pick up someone so gorgeous, but here you are,” he quips, and I feel my heart beat faster as a smile plays on my lips, my hand reaching up to nervously twirl a lock of hair around my finger. It figures that I’d run into a guy like this looking like, well, about how you’d expect to look like after over thirty hours on planes. Good thing I had time to gussy up a little on the last flight.

“Is that more island hospitality?” I joke as he turns a corner, his car handling smoother than anything I’ve ever ridden in.

“No, that’s just me,” he says, and I know exactly what that undertone in his voice means. Oh god, Harper, what are you getting yourself into? “Now,” he goes on, “I was told I’d be picking up a university student, but they didn’t mention were from.”

“Bath,” I say, happy to be talking about something I know how to handle myself in, unlike flirting, “but yeah, I’m American,” I add hastily as he flashes me a smile. “I’m an environmental scientist. There are some plant species on this island that are entirely unique to the ecosystem, and—well, I don’t want to bore you with the details,” I trail off nervously, but he just laughs at my discomfort.

“Believe me,” he says, “you can’t bore me. This is probably the most interesting thing in a few years to happen to this little island, and I dare say that you are too,” he adds, and I’m astonished by how brazen this driver is being. And yet I can’t quite tell myself that I’m not enjoying myself. Being a full-time grad student has me overworked and underappreciated, and as much as I’m pretty sure this guy is either a dream or about to murder me, I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. Once I’m holed up in my research station, I probably won’t ever see the guy again. That thought hits me, and I feel a little sadness as we take a turn down a path that I realize is probably our stop.

“Well, here we are, Miss Harper Emerson the biologist,” he says, making my name sound so heavenly on his accented tongue. He stops a few dozen yards from what I realize is the station, and my heart sinks. It’s basically a trailer with a cabin next to it, but some of the equipment visible through the windows tells me this is the place. “Your... luxury suites, I see,” he adds, noticing my disappointment at the site of the place. “Just remind yourself that this island has plenty more to see than the inside of that dingy trailer,” he says, and I smile at him, savoring that husky voice as much as I can before he drives out of my life.

“Th-thanks, Will,” I say, cursing myself for stammering. Am I really so horny as to be flustered by a simple goodbye? Yes, yes I am.

I step out of the car with him, and he helps me unload the trunk and get my luggage. “I can take it from here,” I say, and I regret it the next minute — damn it, why didn’t I ask him to help me to the trailer? He looks a little surprised by my haste too, even as I’m blushing, but he smiles nonetheless.

“I can see you’re in a hurry to get some rest, so don’t let me get in the way of that,” he says, perfect teeth sparkling as he walks around to the car and gives me a wave. “Do take care, Harper

. I think we’ll be seeing each other again sooner than you think.”

“Wait,” I say, confused, “what?” But he’s already getting into the car, the engine roaring to life again as he pulls off down the road, leaving me on my one. Alone, nothing but the gentle rustling of the tropical trees all around me to keep me company.

Frowning, I trudge off to the trailer, hardly taking notice of the exotic, breathtaking wildlife all around me. There are plants nearby I’ve only ever seen in obscure textbook photos, and a dozen more I genuinely don’t recognize. This place is going to be a gold mine of research.

Now, if I can just get rid of that damn persistent need I feel between my legs so I can clear my head…

I walk up to the trailer door and see a note taped to the front: Key Under Mat. That’s it. Not even something to confirm that I’m supposed to be here or what this place is. And no guarantee there aren’t squatters inside. Awesome.

I retrieve the key and open the place, and the stillness within tells me I have nothing to fear from squatters. Or visitors, by the looks of things.

I am definitely going to lose my mind out here, I realize, my heart sinking. As I unpack my things and get comfy in my home for the next year, I can’t get the thought out of my mind — what the hell did Will mean by seeing me again soon? What even does he do out here? Drive people around? This island can’t have a population of over a thousand, so it wouldn’t surprise me, but you do not afford a car like his on that salary. Can you?

Once I’m settled in, I see to the next priority: a shower. The bathroom in the trailer is, uh, cozy, but it’ll do. And as I’m stripping off my clothes and feeling the warm island air on my naked body and start running the water, I don’t care in the slightest.

To my surprise, there’s a tub in there, though it takes up most of the bathroom. I step into it with one of my long legs, and the hot water makes me grateful for at least that feature in my cramped quarters.

Once I’m inside, I pull the hair tie out of my mane and let the hair fall over my shoulders with a deep sigh. Hot water caresses my tired shoulders, running down to my breasts and swollen nipples, still on edge from all the excitement of the day. The water runs down between them to the smooth skin of my stomach, then down between my thighs, mingling with the wetness the drive with Will had built up on its way down my ample hips and generous ass. I cover my face with my hands as I feel the burn of embarrassment hot inside me.