Page 15 of Wild for You
My brain takes the opportunity to present me with a detailed flashback of my thighs clenched around Jack’s neck in a chokehold.That’s so not helpful right now …
The flashback triggers another memory of me shoving my cell phone in my bra when Jack tried to snatch it from me on the plane.
I reach in my bra and pull out my beloved phone. “Ha!” I yell in victory. “I’ll just call 911 or whatever, and we’ll be out of here in no time!” I hold up the phone and examine it, but the screen is completely black.
The sound of Jack's laughter interrupts me, and I pull my attention back to him. “What’s funny? Why are you laughing?”
“We crashed my plane in the ocean, your phone’s water damaged. I don’t have to look at it to know that.” He sighs. “Besides, even if your phone wasn’t submerged in water for over thirty minutes … it’s not like you’d actually have a service out here in the middle of nowhere.” He gestures to the island around us.
“What are you saying?” I purse my lips as my stomach plummets to my feet.
“I’m saying,” He breathes in a long, controlled breath, “that if you want to survive, you’re going to have to put down the giant dick and start listening to me.”
“No. No. No.” I shake my head, “This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening to me right now.” I flap my hands as the reality of the situation comes crashing down. Gasping for breath, I meet Jack’s forest green eyes, which seem to crinkle at the ends. Does he think this is funny?
“You!” I scream as I lunge toward him in a frenzy, swinging the dildo with all my strength. “You did this! This is all your fault!”
“Whoa. Whoa. Hold your weapon!” He stands to his feet, towering over my small frame, and swipes the dildo from my sweaty grip. “I’m confiscating this. Have you completely lost your mind?”
I jump, trying to take back my weapon, but it’s no use. Jack’s got at least a foot of height on me, and unless I climb him like a tree trunk, there’s no way I’m getting the vibrator back.
I cross my arms over my chest and let out a huff in defeat. I’m hot and exhausted, and I don’t have the strength to keep fighting him, so I collapse on the sand, lying like a corpse.
“What are you doing now?”
“Obviously, we’re as good as dead, so I’m laying here until the vultures come and put me out of my misery.”
To my surprise, Jack laughs. “Dramatic much?”
I squint open one eye and see he’s back to his original spot, hovering over all my stuff.What is with this guy and my underwear?Rolling over on my side, I examine him for a moment before I finally speak.
“So, we really crashed the plane? Like it’s gone?” My voice is so quiet it almost comes out as a whisper.
“RIP Betty White.” Jack makes the sign of the cross over his chest, and for the second time today, my stomach drops. “I was able to crash land in the ocean, but it wasn’t pretty. The old girl got swallowed whole in no less than ten minutes, along with all of our stuff. Luckily, I was able to grab my survival bag with all my recording equipment and this.” He holds up something resembling a gun, but the barrel is bigger.
“What’s that?”
“A flare gun.” He shoves it back in his backpack. “There’s only one shot, so we can’t waste it.”
He pushes his hand through his long hair and points to the pile of things in front of him.
“Besides that, it looks like we’re working with—” He begins counting off as if committing it to memory. “Twenty-seven thongs, five bras, seven bikinis, four tampons, a curling iron, three vibrators, a tube of lipstick, and one toothbrush.” He sighs, pondering the obscure pile before him.
“Well, it’s not my fault that you only managed to grabthisbag!” I snap. “If you want to be so judgmental, you should pack your own survival bag.” I huff. “If you wouldn’t have crashed the plane—”
“If you wouldn’t have had your cell phone on—or been trying to molest me—I wouldn’t be trying to figure out a way to survive using your elaborate collection of lingerie and dildos! I wouldn’t have had to decide what bag to grab, and I wouldn’t have had to give you mouth to mouth on the beach after you almost drowned!” he yells back.
I cross my arms over my chest and back away from him. This can’t be happening right now. I’m supposed to be sipping Mai Tais on a beach in Costa Rica, not washed up with a wannabe Bear Grylls who seems to think there’s a solution in my underwear bag.
Without another thought, I take off in a sprint along the beach, running as fast as I can in search of anything that would indicate human life.
“Now what are you doing? Come back before you hurt yourself … again!” Jack chases behind me, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to my head start. He’s running next to me now, and it’s almost comical. If someone didn’t know better, it would look like we’re a couple taking our exercise regime very seriously on vacation.
But nothing could be further from the truth.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Jack
