Page 122 of Lost Paradise

“Oh gosh,” she gasps.

Eve has no idea that she’s got five cocks wrapped around her fingers.

Hand in hand, we make our way back, the moonlight casting a silver glow on the sand, almost as if it's marking a path for us.

Chapter 37

We trekked through thedense jungle, and Byron’s keen memory from his last visit made our journey to the abandoned Soviet bunker smoother.

In the end, Eve insisted we couldn't afford to be one man short, given the load we had to haul back, particularly the generator and the bottles of diesel we hoped Byron could produce. None of us were willing to leave her behind, especially overnight. It wasn’t about being misogynistic; this island is dangerous, teaming with savages who relish human flesh and stare at us as if we’re pure evil they’d like to have roasting on a rotating spit. So rather than argue her case about being left alone at camp, Eve said she would join us instead.

We’re currently at this dodgy old USSR compound where they conducted unfound tests on natives. A place I’m sure torture and manipulation were involved. I settle the last watermelon we collected along the way?another strange detail about this island. But knowing this island served as a covert mission for Cold War government scientists, things are beginning to make sense.

“That’ll do,” I say to no one in particular, staring at the stack of bright green fruit, and go to help Byron, who’s putting together a self-made stove for the oil cooking outside in the open clearing using different items we collected from inside.

“Do you think you can get this to work?” I ask, taking out my zippo, lighting some dried-out leaves and other dry tinder from one of the bags we brought with us, and tossing them under the makeshift stove.

I’m hoping he manages this because there’s only so much lighter fluid left in this zippo, and I don’t have the patience to start rubbing sticks together. I know it’s possible because I’ve seen Zane doing it,but better him doing such than me. No one’s tending to the fire we’ve left on the beach as our SOS beacon of hope, so it’ll probably be out by the time we return.

“Everything is a possibility,” Byron answers with a sly grin. “It’s all in the mind,” he says indicating his head.

“Well, I hope your mind gets this thing to work,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Dunno mate,” he says, fiddling with the ingredients

He put two pots with different concoctions on the stove to cook. He’s not sure of the exact formula, but he made notes, and hopefully, one of them will eventually convert.

I leave him with his experiments and the notes he’s been studying since yesterday. He claims Russian is like a code, and if he can work through it, he might find some semblance of what exactly they were doing out here, and maybe there’s something that’ll ensure the cannibals remain on their side.

The last thing we want is an all out bloody war on this island.

“I’ll go check what the others are doing,” I say, leaving Byron to his papers and pots. He glances up briefly to acknowledge my words and focuses back on his mission.

I step into the entrance of the facility, my eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the dirty windows. The others have made a pile of stuff to take back with us, a chaotic jumble of necessities and oddities. My gaze locks onto Eve, as it always does. She's dropping off a first aid kit and some more soap, her movements graceful despite the rough conditions.

Her messy light blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in tangled waves, a stark match to her pale legs, exposed by her frayed makeshift white denim shorts that are ripped and dirty. Her wrinkled white cotton shirt that’s seen better days clings to her frame, a far cry from the society girl she was before we became stranded on this godforsaken island. But somehow, here, she looks more natural, more beautiful.

I watch her casually wipe the sweat from her brow using the sleeve of her shirt, then untie the knot at the hem and slide it off her body. She takes the sleeves and ties them around her waist, leaving her in her white sports bra. Her bare shoulders and midriff are mesmerizing, a testament to her resilience and strength. Her tanned, freckled shoulders and arms catch my eye, glowing with a raw beauty that takes my breathaway.

“This first aid kit’s expired, but it’s better than nothing,” Eve says, her voice like music to my ears. She glances at the pile, a wry smile playing on her lips. “The amount of soap they kept in storage here was crazy, but they didn’t leave an ounce of clothing except for this smelly wifebeater. After a good wash, it might be wearable.”

I furrow my brow at the unfamiliar term. “A wifebeater?”

Eve laughs, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine, and she holds up the dirty army green vest. “It’s a sleeveless undershirt, like the ones people wear under their clothes. A tank top for men. The name’s not exactly flattering.”

I chuckle, though my mind is elsewhere. There's a flicker of something deeper in Eve's eyes, a hint of turmoil that she hides well. I know she and Astro hooked up last night. It was bound to happen; the sexual tension between them was a fierce, catastrophic force, disrupting the group. Now, at least, there might be peace. Eve is the link that keeps us from fracturing completely, the bridge between the two factions that have formed—Team Foster and Team Astro.

I step closer to Eve, the scent of her hair intoxicating. “Are you okay?”

She sighs, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to make sense of all this.” She gestures to the pile of supplies.

I reach out, my hand lingering on her shoulder. The contact sends a jolt through me, a reminder of our shared declaration of love. Yet, I can’t help but be fascinated by her, like a moth drawn to a flame.

As we sort through the items, I steal glances at Eve, marveling at her potency and her beauty. Even in this miserable place, she’s a vision. But there’s something else on her mind, something that seems to be on the edge of her tongue, and every time she looks at me wanting to talk about it, she chickens out.

“At some point, you’ll need to get whatever you want to say out,” I say abruptly.

She glances at me in deep thought, but our silence is interrupted by Astro, followed by Foster and Zane.

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