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“This is my home.”
He nodded, “If you can help me call for someone, I’ll be happy to go.”
“What are you looking for?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. In the end, he resorted to honesty. “I’m chasing childhood stories.”
Her gaze turned curious and the tension wavered but didn’t go away. She put the cup down in the sand by her feet, “Thank you for your coffee,” she said, and turned back toward the darkness of the inner island.
“What about a radio?”
“I’ll think about it,” she said over her shoulder. The wind shifted, drawing the scent of tropical fruit across his nose, the ends of her wild hair catching in the light breeze.
“What a strange conversation.”
Despite his confusion and frustration, his eyes had dropped to the small of her back, curve of her hips, and round ass. Then he noticed the belt and knife sheath it supported. He watched her go, eyes glued to the sway of her hips until the dark swallowed her. The cup in the sand was the only evidence she’d actually been there, and he wasn’t already going delusional. The cup, and the uncomfortable swelling in his shorts.
Again, he felt as though his teen years had just rolled back on him where his dick seemed to be taking charge. She was hot. Odd, but hot. And he suspected she could carve him up if she wanted to.
Well, he’d just have to make sure she didn’t want to.
For now, he collected her cup, dumped the coffee and decided to go for a late-night swim to exorcise his teenage fantasies. His gaze drifted to where she’d been standing, images of his hands firmly gripping her ass rolled through his mind and his dick bucked in protest. Too damned much time alone. Stripping, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the camp chair. His shorts and boxers followed before he waded into the warm water to wash away the cares of the day and take care of his sudden sexual needs.
Chapter 4
The next day, the woman, Kymri, appeared again at Jori’s camp.
The morning had been well spent swimming and exploring the island for fresh water and other supplies. He still hadn’t found the village she’d wandered over from. The tracks she’d left in the sand went through a wooded area then picked up again on another section of the island then led straight to the water. She must have come from another island by boat.
The activity kept his mind and body in check. With little to do, his mind kept cycling through various topics, many of which he didn’t want to think about—namely the past.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to think about Kymri— she was incredibly hot—doing so didn’t help his physical situation, just made it more frustrating and added to the tension of being stranded and unable to do much about it. So, he walked the island to burn off the sexual energy that riled him. He still couldn’t believe how damned quickly he’d suddenly turned into an uncontrolled teenage boy. And he couldn’t figure out what it was. She was a beautiful woman, yet he’d known many.
Her sudden appearance was making it difficult to focus on the mystery of his rescue. His notebook had quickly been filling up with recollections and theories. The equipment still wouldn’t function properly, so the book was all he had to rely on.
He was all over the place. Recalling his mother’s stories, considering the myths and legends he’d heard about the area, the conspiracy theories and the natural theories. When recalling the events from the night of the storm, he tried to stick to the facts, and they were sparse.
Among his camp gear was a fishing rod he’d made good use of. He cast the line then relaxed, watching the skies.
Periodically, a bird flew overhead. After a while, he noticed it seemed to be a repetitive thing, always the same path across the sky, never deviating in altitude or direction. An unusual species with a long tail, and he wished he had internet access to look up what it was. The tail and wingspan proportions reminded him of the constellation he saw the night before. Interesting.
He netted the fish he caught, packed up his rod, and went back to camp to try his luck in another shallow area tomorrow.
As soon as he reached the beach camp, he checked his campfire embers to ensure they were still glowing, prodded them, added another piece of driftwood, and then went to clean the fish in an area of beach he’d designated for it.
When he returned to the fire, he was startled by Kymri’s presence.
After a pause, he said cheerily, “Good morning,” She was dressed the same as she’d been before.
As was he, he mused, and hoped she wouldn’t mind his shorts and t-shirt monotony. He’d packed light for the trip.
She inclined her head in greeting.
“Hungry?” he asked her, holding the freshly cleaned fish aloft.
She smiled, “It is generous of you to share your food.”
He shrugged, “When I was young, my mother taught me the value of hospitality.”
