Page 71 of Roughing It

“Fine.”

Moments later, I hear the telltale signs that she got over her unnecessary shyness, followed by running water. When she opens the door, I scoop her up and carry her to our rumpled pallet.

Lying her down, I gently widen her legs, then clean up the remnants of our time together. She’s quiet and pliant, her eyes heavy and soft. A sex-drunk smile plays on her lips, and she’s a fucking sight. Tousled hair, beard rash on her chin and other more sensitive places, red marks on her hips and neck. Gorgeous.And mine, a greedy voice deep in the back of my mind whispers.

Snuggling her, I sprinkle her shoulders with chaste kisses, enjoying the peace. Then, like a silent alarm goes off in her head, Blakely bolts upright and searches through the blankets and pillows.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“Where’s my phone?”

“You need it now?” There’s an undercurrent of frustration in my tone.

She’s looking around like it might drop from the sky. “Yes. No? I don’t know! But?—”

With a sigh, I pull it out from my side of the mattress.

“Thank you.” Her eyes widen, and she looks at me. “Holy shit! I have a ton of missed calls from Kirk. I’m guessing your ‘She’s fine’sign-off didn’t sit well with him.”

Pulling her back into my arms, I kiss her neck, her jaw. “How about instead of worrying over Kirk, we eat something, and I hold you like I promised I would?”

Without another word, she melts into my touch, her quickly forgotten phone clattering to the floor.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

blakely

DAY TWELVE

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

More than half asleep, I swat away the gnat buzzing around me. It’s too damn early, and I’m too deliciously sore after spending last night with Hudson Brooks between my legs to deal with annoying bugs.

My heart skips a beat. I can’t believe we slept together. Or how good it was.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

The persistent sound drones again. I grit my teeth and ignore it, confident it will fade away. Instead of worrying, I opt to snuggle closer to my bedmate. Yesterday was as amazing as it was awful. I shudder at the foggy memory of the icy water, sighing when Hudson pulls me tighter into his warmth.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

Okay. This is getting out of hand. Is it an army of flies?

Next to me, Hudson growls, his face hidden beneath a pillow. “Make it stop.”

I stretch my hands out, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from. Groping around the bed, I come up empty, so I force myself into a sitting position. Eyes only partly open, I search the dark cabin. Nothing.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

The noise is close. I peek over the side of the mattress and—aha. It’s my phone. Not bugs. I yawn and squint at the faint glow of the screen as it vibrates against the cabin floor.

With an annoyed huff, I snatch the phone and hit ignore. A quick glance shows that I have close to twenty missed calls from Kirk and hundreds of notifications from my socials.

“Who is it, and what the hell do they want?” I don’t fight the smile Hudson’s crabby words bring to my lips.

“It must be about me falling overboard. Who would’ve thought that’d be such a draw? I probably made some sort ofinfluencer failreel.”

Tossing his pillow off his face, Hudson pulls me against him. The unspoken message that my phone isn’t welcome is heard and received. I run my fingers and lips over his sleep-warm skin.

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