by R. R. Banks
With Hunter stretched across the pallet, I stood and looked down at him. I ensured that he was watching me as I undressed carefully, gradually revealing myself to him. I didn’t know how far the night would take us, but I wanted nothing between us and nothing to stop us from whatever exploration we desired. There were no limitations tonight. There was nothing that was going to stop us.
When I was finally completely naked, I knelt down and reached for the button on the front of Hunter’s pants. I released it and eased his zipper down slowly, wanting to continue to build the delicious tension that had been burning between us. Finally, they were open and I grasped the sides to start pulling them down. Hunter lifted his hips to make it easier for me to remove them completely and drop them to the side. There was nothing left concealing him now and I was able to let my eyes travel along his body, taking him in in all of his exquisitely crafted beauty. I forced my gaze to move slowly, scanning every inch of him, rather than rushing to what I had been waiting so long to see. When I had paid the proper respects to the curves of his shoulders, the deep cut of his chest, the plane of his belly, and the tantalizing trail of dark hair from his navel, it was finally time to see the erection that had been straining toward me through his pants as we kissed.
It was even more incredible than I had envisioned when I was in the water. Long, perfectly straight, and deeply veined, it was so hard and thick that it looked as though my fingers wouldn’t touch when I wrapped my hand around it. I was very willing to try. I leaned forward and touched a soft kiss to his lips, then brought my mouth to the side of his neck. I could feel him trembling slightly as I kissed my way down his neck and onto his collarbone. I brushed my lips along each bone and then pressed them into the soft dip between them. The rhythm of his pulse was there, telling me that I was coaxing him forward, bringing his arousal higher with every touch of my lips.
Taking my time, I kissed my way over to one of his shoulders and then down his arm, following the curve of each of his muscles until I reached his hand. I lifted his arm and turned his hand over so that it rested in my palm. I kissed his palm and then slipped each finger into my mouth in turn, sucking my way down them and then drawing my tongue up the inside of his arm until I reached his shoulder again. I continued this exploration over the other arm and down his body, lavishing his nipples, the taut muscles of his chest, the ripples of his stomach, and the muscular V at his hips with the attention that I had been wanting to give him since the first moment that I saw him. I wanted to go further, but I forced myself to stop. There was still more that I wanted him to feel. Knowing that he was so inexperienced made me feel as though I had been given not a tremendous obligation, but a privilege. I got to be the one who awakened him to the delicious capabilities of his body and to welcome the blissful attention that I would teach him to give.
Swinging one leg over his hips, I positioned myself so that I looked down into Hunter’s eyes. He gazed up at me, his eyes slumbering slightly. I knew that I was bringing him to an edge and I wanted to urge him further. I flattened my hands on his chest and ran them up to his shoulders and then down both arms so that my body gradually lowered down toward his. My hands reaching his and intertwining our fingers, I allowed my breasts to brush his chest. The sensation traveled through my sensitive, hardened nipples and I lowered myself just enough that my breasts crushed lightly against his chest. My angle allowed me to feel his surging erection against my thigh and I nestled back against it so that it nudged my wet, waiting petals.
Holding my hips in place, I brought my mouth back to his. Hunter kissed me with both tenderness and passion. His hands ran along my back softly, then slid up to my shoulders and squeezed as though reassuring himself that I was truly there. After a few moments of just enjoying the feeling and taste of his mouth on mine, I pulled away from the kiss and eased myself down Hunter’s body so that I knelt between his thighs. Resting a hand on the inside of both legs, I pressed them apart so that I could gain greater access. Finally indulging the fantasy that I had been harboring, I wrapped my hand around the base of his erection and finally felt the warmth of his skin against my palm. I could feel the blood continuing to flow into his shaft, making it even harder. My other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them. They hung away from his body with the intensity of his arousal and I manipulated them carefully while stroking my other hand along his shaft.
Slick fluid had gathered at the tip of his cock and I swirled my palm over it to allow my hand to move more easily along his skin. My hand ran along his erection in long strokes, twisting slightly when I reached the head to stimulate the tight bundles of nerves under the head. I looked at Hunter’s face and saw that his eyes were closed, his expression one of concentration and pleasure. He was racing toward climax, drawing closer to the oblivion that I wanted to give to him, when a screaming wind from outside broke the peaceful, transcendent bliss between us.
I snapped my eyes to the entrance to the cave just in time to see a large tree sail past, the roots torn up from the ground. The effect was violent enough that I could feel the sting of water against my face and Hunter sat up sharply. He reached out and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me back with him deeper into the cave as he dragged the pallet along behind us. We huddled together against the far wall of the chamber, bracing ourselves against the most intense moments of the storm. When it finally ended, the adrenaline slid from my body and I felt exhaustion take over. Hunter seemed to feel the same, and though I longed for more of the exploration, I allowed him to draw me down onto the blankets with him and curl around me. His hand trailed lazily along the center of my stomach and brushed along the bottom swells of my breasts.
I hadn’t even realized that I had fallen asleep in Hunter’s arms until I felt him shift behind me. I opened my eyes slowly and saw the glow of morning sunlight outside of the cavern. Despite its beauty, I didn’t want to get up. I rolled over and nuzzled closer to Hunter again. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Better than I have in a long time.”
“Me, too,” he said. He sighed and I saw him look toward the entrance to the cave. “Do you think that Gavin made it into the cabin of the boat before the storm hit?” he asked. “He might be an ass, but I wouldn’t want to think that he was out there in all of that by himself.”
Those words brought me back to harsh reality. The fantasy of the night before had kept me from thinking about the storm when I first woke, but now I felt worry sink heavily into my belly, making me feel sick. I could remember weathering storms when younger and camped with my father, but none had been as intense as that one. Even so, some of them caused truly horrific damage.
I got up and scrambled into the clothing I was wearing the night before. It was still damp and I shivered as the cold fabric touched my skin. Hunter stepped into a pair of pants that had been in the pile of blankets and clothes we were using for his bed. We stepped out of the cave and I immediately noticed the ground was strewn with pieces of branches, leaves, and other remnants of the island that the storm had thrown around. I took a deep breath and looked back at Hunter. He was staring around like I had, shaking his head.
“Where could he be?” he asked. “I would have thought that he would come back to the cave as soon as the weather cleared up if he hadn’t been able to make it when the raining started, even if it was just to gloat that he had been right about the storm.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I hope that he’s alright.”
I still didn’t trust Gavin, but just like Hunter had said, that didn’t mean that I wanted something horrible to have happened to him. I was going through enough. The last thing that I needed was a storm-battered body to deal with when I couldn’t get off of this stupid island.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Hunter said. “Remember, he’s trained in wilderness survival.”
There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice and I couldn’t help but chuckle a
t the memory of Gavin’s bravado about his training and how it would help them to get through this time on the island. As funny as it seemed, however, it did make me wonder what kind of experience this man had that had allowed him to spring into action the way that he had. I wanted to think that it all came from some kind of exclusive military training that had taught him to paint himself camouflage, roll around in the woods, and survive off of tree bark and moth wings, but in the back of my mind I knew that that wasn’t the case. There was something about Gavin that put me on edge and made me wary of him. He had helped us from the beginning, but there had always been an underlying sense of obligation, as though there was another reason that he was there with us, and now that he was missing I was starting to question everything about him.
We started down the makeshift path toward the waterfall and pool. Some of the clothing that had been at the front of the cave was now strewn across the ground and Hunter leaned down to scoop it up.
"Just bring them with us," I told him. "I can hang them up to dry at the shelter."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt my face drop and saw the expression on Hunter's face change. He scrambled away from the edge of the water where he had paused to rinse his feet and we started running through the jungle toward the beach. I wasn't paying as close attention to where I was stepping as I usually did and the brush bit painfully into the bottoms of my feet, but I didn't stop. We needed to get to the shelter and find out how much damage the storm had caused, and if all of the work that we had put into the structure had been destroyed. The moment that I got to the beach I felt like everything inside of me emptied and I was completely deflated.
The once pristine sand was now scattered with the branches, fronds, and ropes that had once been the shelter we had poured ourselves into building. Pieces of tattered fabric and broken pieces of the ship moved in the lazy waves that slid up the sand and then back, gradually pulling the destroyed remnants of their supplies back into the sea. I stepped out onto the beach and felt emotion catch in my chest. Fighting tears, I rushed toward the site where the shelter had been. It hunkered at the edge of the jungle in a heap of broken bamboo and torn leaves. I could see the crates of supplies that we had positioned inside tipped over, the contents that hadn't been tossed onto the beach spilled on what had been the floor.
From the moment that I noticed the storm coming, I had been trying to deny it. I had been trying to keep memories forced down as far within me as I could possibly get them, not wanting to face them. I had struggled through the sound of the rain and the angry rumble of the thunder. Now, though, I couldn’t keep them away any longer. Brutal memories, moments that I had never wanted to see or think of again, sliced through my mind and forced themselves onto the backs of my eyelids as I squeezed my eyes closed so hard that I saw spots of light bursting in the darkness.
"Fuck!" I screamed, picking up one of the fronds that had been a part of the roof and throwing it as far as I could into the jungle. "Motherfucking storm!" I kicked at another piece of the rubble and spun around so that I could scream at a different portion of the beach. “Son of a bitching cocksucking, assblasting piece of shit! Motherless whore! Fuck-stick shitheaded bat-brained dick splinter! Donkey-fucking three fingered cunt kicking blueballed limp dicked fuck monkey!”
It felt amazing and I wanted to scream more, but I felt like I had used up all of my profanity creativity and couldn’t think of any other words to use.
"Eleanor," Hunter's voice said from behind me.
"No!" I shouted, whipping around to face him. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down. Are you seeing the same thing that I’m seeing?" I demanded.
I gestured frantically around us at the beach.
"Yes," Hunter said, taking a cautious step toward me and holding up a hand as if to calm me.
Either that, or to act as a defensive tool in the event that I chose to fling part of the shelter at him.
"Then you can see that everything we went through was for shit. It meant absolutely nothing."
"It didn't mean nothing, Eleanor," Hunter said, approaching me. "We knew that that storm was going to come. We had to have shelter. We couldn't just sit around. We had to do something to help us handle being here, or even just to occupy our time."
It was meant to be a comforting statement, but something about Hunter's words pushed me into even deeper fury.
"To occupy our time?" I shouted. "Is this fun for you? Is this some sort of warped tropical vacation?" I kicked at the bamboo and palm fronds spread across the ground. "Well, let me tell you something. This is not a fucking vacation. There is no five-star hotel hiding on the other side of the rocks and we don't get to dress for dinner in the banquet hall. In fact, we barely get to fucking dress at all."
I gestured toward Hunter who was wearing nothing but his pants, and then at myself and the wet castoffs I wore. His jaw set as he stared at me. This was ruining everything that we had experienced together and I was disgusted with myself for causing that, but I couldn’t stop the anger that was coursing through me. It was all too much. The night before I had been able to convince myself that everything was alright, but now it was like I was being punished, pushed back down to the ground where I should have always stayed.
"This isn't our fault. We didn’t choose for this to happen.”
"Yes, it is," she said. "It is my fault and I hate myself for it."
"Why do you think that it's your fault?" Hunter asked. "You couldn't control the storm that made us crash here anymore than you could control the storm that happened last night."
"But if it wasn't for me we wouldn't have been in that boat trying to get away from the ship so the storm wouldn't have mattered." I started to stomp away from the shelter and then whipped back around to face him again. "No. You know what? This isn't my fault. Everything that I do nowadays might turn to absolute shit because somewhere along the line I apparently lost all of my ability to function, but this isn't on me. This," she gestured wildly around herself, "this is Virgil's fault. This is all fucking Virgil's fault. If he hadn't been such a raging sleazeball this wouldn't have happened."
I was fairly sure I could have come up with something better to call him if I had taken the time to really think about it, but at that moment that seemed like the most appropriate term. It didn’t have the flair of my previous tirade, but it would do.
"He's not here," Hunter said. "He can't hurt you anymore."
"Yes, he can!" I replied. "Can't you see that? He's always here. He's always around. As soon as he found out that I knew about everything that he had done, I signed my death warrant." I felt at once like I was being dramatic and like I was telling the truth for the first time in as long as I could remember. "He cheated people out of millions of dollars. He ran drugs. I wouldn't be surprised if there was blood on his hands. Do you really think that he isn't capable of making sure that I don’t go unpunished for humiliating him with our divorce and then holding the evidence that I have over his head? He sent men after me. The cruise ship wasn’t the first time that it happened. They’ve found me in the grocery store. They’ve found me while I was jogging. They accosted me while I was fucking trying on shoes for the wedding. I had to hobble over to a group of salespeople wearing two different heights of heels just so that I wasn’t sitting alone with them.”
“Have they ever said anything to you?” Hunter asked.
I nodded, feeling as though I had gotten myself onto a slippery slope. I had already revealed more than I ever intended to and now I could just feel him scrutinizing me and everything that I had ever told him, but I was already on my way now. I couldn’t go back and pretend that I hadn’t opened my mouth and let all of this fall out.
“They say that Virgil just wants to talk to me, but when was the last time you needed to send multiple very large, very scary men after a woman just because you wanted to have a conversation with her?" I shook my head and clawed my hands back through my hair to get it out of my face. They caught on tangles that pulled a
t my scalp and frustrated me even further. As soon as I got off this damn island I was spending three days in the shower and using ten bottles of shampoo. "I guarantee you that he wouldn't mind if I had just tipped off of that ship and never came back up. He only wants to see me so that he can have the fun of getting rid of me himself. He just wants me to disappear so that I won't be any trouble for him anymore. He'll do whatever it takes and send whoever it takes to make sure that it happens."
“Well,” Hunter said, his eyes looking slightly lighter, “maybe that’s what happened.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling confused.
“Those guys who were chasing us on the cruise ship saw us jump off into the water. Gavin’s boat was too far away for them to actually get a good look at us climbing on. To them, we did just tip off of the boat and disappear.”
I stepped back and let out a long sigh.
I never thought that I was going to reach a point in my life when I should feel relieved that I was stranded on an uninhabited, storm-battered island because the alternative was worse. That’s a somber realization.
"Come on," Hunter said, reaching for my hand. "Let’s take a break from the shelter for a bit. Come talk to me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hunter
Eleanor seemed reluctant to take my hand, but she finally did and I started leading her further down the beach. After the rather flailing but truly impressive display of temper and fury that she had shown, I felt like she needed to get away from the visual of the tattered shelter for a few minutes. I understood what she was feeling. We had put an incredible amount of work into that structure, and as primitive and lacking in amenities as it was, it was supposed to be something that we could rely on for as long as this nightmare of a detour continued. Seeing it ripped apart by a storm wasn’t just upsetting because the work was gone. Part of me imagined what it would have been like had we been in that shelter when the storm hit. We really thought that it would have provided us some level of protection. Now that we had seen the aftermath, though, we knew that it was a far more likely scenario that we would have ended up palm tree shish-kabobs and would likely never have been found. It felt like just another reminder of what couldn’t be trusted.