Page 49 of Wild for You
An impish smile covers my face, and I throw my head back and laugh. “Now, how did you know I had an exhibitionist kink?”
“Just a lucky guess.” His scratchy voice sends another jolt through my nerves, and I lose it. Head thrown back with abandon, I lose myself in Jack Manning and succumb to the most glorious orgasm that shakes me to my core and, dare I say, rewires me into something completely new. Something wild.
“Let me take you on a proper date.” Jack kisses the tender spot beneath my jaw a few minutes later once our breathing has slowed. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
I can’t fight the grin and simply nod as my head rests against his bare chest. “I’ll have to check my calendar, but I think I can work you in.”
“Good.” He plants a kiss on my hand and wraps himself around me tighter. Covered in perspiration and sand, we lay in each other's arms with only the full moon’s gentle glow shining down on us like a spotlight, like we’re the only two people in the world.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Gwen
“I swearif I ever get off this island, I’ll never order another Pina Colada for as long as I live!” I slap the dinosaur-sized mosquito on my arm, leaving a trail of blood behind.
“What? You’re sick of coconut?” Jack winks. “I don’t know. I think it’s becoming one of my favorite smells.” He leans in and bumps me in the side. “It reminds me of you.”
I smile as I remember the exotic coconut slippage between us. “I’m so sick of it. I eat it, drink it, use it to keep from burning in the sun … Hell, last night, we even used it as lube! I’m basically a walking coconut at this point.”
“I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed my pina colada last night.” Jack pulls me into him and sniffs the top of my head. “I love you. I’d drink Pina Coladas every day of my life if you’d let me.”
His walk comes to a stop, and he pulls me closer to him as I suck in a sharp breath at his words. “Shhh.” He places his finger over my lips. “You don’t have to say anything back. I know this is intense. I just wanted you to know how I feel about you.” He pulls my hand up to meet his mouth and kisses it.
Butterflies swarm in my belly, and my heart aches at his words like a swirling ying-yang of fear and joy. I knit my brows together and bite my lip, suppressing a smirk.
“I know you do, Tarzan.” I press up to my tiptoes and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m going to get ready for our date. I’ll see you when the tree shadow is over here.” I point to the tree above us and then to my right—which I’ve recently learned is West.
Jack laughs at my caveman time-telling technique since, technically, he at least has a real watch and knows what time it is—in Costa Rica anyway. “Ok, Jane. I’ll see you then.” He shuffles as he looks down at his muddy bare feet and wiggles his toes, “I guess I better go clean up myself.” Turning to head in the opposite direction, he calls over his shoulder, “I hope you’re ready to be swooned. You have no idea how hard it was to reserve the whole island for just the two of us.”
I laugh at his joke because even though we’ve been trapped here alone for forty-five days, I wouldn’t trade our first date for any big city high-rise restaurant—even if I could properly curl my hair or wax my vagina. Somehow, Jack makes the simplicity of island life appealing, not just tolerable. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was his master plan all along.
* * *
I’ve donethe best I can to get ready by using a small compact mirror to apply my makeup. Luckily, my sun-kissed skin has a golden glow that could never be achieved using a sunless tanner. Even though it’ll take me a year of laser treatments to reverse this sun damage, I can’t help but notice how happy I look … and feel.
Since my face is already glowing, I add a little highlighter to the apples of my cheeks and apply my favorite pink glittery lip gloss for a subtle pop of color. My hair has decided to do her own thing, so rather than fight the natural waves, I dipped my head in the ocean this morning and finger-curl my waves for soft, beachy waves that I also couldn’t create with all the hair products in the world.
I stretch my arm as long as possible, holding the tiny compact mirror as I try to take in my look. Since I don’t have any real clothes—thanks to Jack’s emergency decision-making when the airplane crashed—I’ve put together a simple white thong bikini with a floor-length red and pink Moroccan print swimsuit coverup. Each side has a giant slit exposing my leg to my waist. It’s a bit scandalous for a first date, but I have a feeling Jack won’t mind at all.
I’m almost finished fluffing my hair and decide to add a tiny bit of mascara because why the hell not. This is a special occasion, and I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to get all fixed up again.
My stomach swirls with nerves and excitement … and a little bit of sadness. Part of me wishes we could recreate this date in the real world, in our real lives, but the other side of me wants to keep this precious moment right here on this island where it belongs.
I snap my compact shut and exit the tent. I’m not sure how much time has passed exactly, but I’m getting better at noticing how the sun moves across the sky. Who would’ve thought Jack would make a survivalist out of me? I certainly didn’t. I swipe my arm to push away the hanging palm leaves that make the door to our hut and find Jack waiting for me. He’s sitting on a log, gazing around as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
His eyes light up when he sees me, and my heart flutters when I see he’s also dressed up for me—well, as much as a man stranded on an island can.
I chuckle when I realize his dressed-up island date outfit isn’t much different than how he looked when I first met him in the real world. It’s a refreshing thing to see someone who’s so sure of who he is, no matter the crowd. I envy him for that.
Jack’s wearing mid-thigh length floral swim trunks—a different pair than he usually wears—and a contrasting floral short sleeve button-up that’s left open, revealing his sculpted, masculine chest. I let my eyes roam over his massive frame, and a smile tugs at my lips when I notice he even brushed his hair. His usual man bun is intact, but it’s a little tamer than usual. It looks like I’m not the only one trying to make a good impression here.
“You look … Wow,” is all he says as he takes my hand, helping me climb out of the hut.
I grin, tucking my wild waves behind my ear. I can’t fight the blush that creeps up my cheeks. Who is this bashful woman? I’m practically melting under his gaze, and for the life of me, I can’t wipe the smile away. I feel like myself but in another dimension or something.
Jack’s Gwen is the same woman with the same heartbreaking childhood in her past, but she’s come out stronger on the other end. She’s confident, sure of herself, and, most importantly,happy.
“You clean pretty nicely yourself, Tarzan.” I wink, and my skin tingles from his touch.
