The Island, page 7
I wanted to melt against him, but the million dollars was closer than it had ever been. I’d made it through one night, and I just had to make it through the rest of today and tonight, and if no one captured me by nine a.m. tomorrow morning, a million dollars was mine. Yesterday, it seemed impossible, but today, I was feeling more confident.
I started to struggle, knowing I needed to escape even if I didn’t really want to. I had to at least try to get that money.
Spencer grunted as I started twisting in his arms, and his hold tightened on me. I bucked my hips and tried to kick out at him, and he lowered us to the forest floor with his weight atop me. I was still struggling against him, while he was making soothing sounds, but he was also holding me tightly. When his cock dragged against the crease of my ass, I realized my fight was doing nothing to turn him off. “You have to let me go. I need the money.”
“And I need you.” He subdued me, holding me against the damp forest floor as his body curved over mine. I whimpered and tried to escape when his hands moved over me, one arm keeping me securely locked in position with my ass in the air, and my face almost buried in the leaves, but not quite. I couldn’t move, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
One of his hands moved to the waistband of my jeans in the back, and his hand slipped inside to squeeze the lush globes of my ass. I whimpered and then moaned as he slid his thumb down the cleft, pausing to press against the quivering ring of muscle that refused to yield.
He chuckled. “I’m going to claim your ass this weekend too. There so many things I want to do to you, and time is ticking away. I’m claiming you, and we’re going to a cottage now.”
I shook my head, still trying to fight. A moment later, two of his fingers penetrated my pussy, pushing into my channel until he encountered resistance. I was afraid he was going to fuck me right there, which seemed so sordid and dirty, especially since I was still fighting him when I got the chance. The idea was repulsive, which didn’t explain why I was practically dripping wet for him, and his fingers glided in and out of me easily as long as he didn’t go too deep.
“I think you’re a filthy fucking girl, who likes it dirty and rough. I can give you that. I can give you sweet seduction too. I want to give you everything with the time I have.”
I bit my lip, trying not to moan as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of me. His words were a sharp turn-on, and my nipples were tight in my bra. I still wore his flannel shirt, and his scent surrounded me, but it wasn’t just from the garment this time. The heat of his flesh against mine stirred my desire to a fever pitch.
I was in a position where I couldn’t look up to see what was going on, but heard another grunt, and it didn’t sound like one of passion. His hand slipped away, and his weight rolled off me. I rolled over for a better view, realizing I was free.
The mystery of why was quickly solved. There was a wiry young man, who looked like the thug type, except for his Gucci loafers and designer leather jacket. He was clearly a trust fund baby playing at badass. He was also armed with what looked like a shield of bark, and a heavy branch. He’d taken advantage of Spencer’s distraction to hit him, likely planning to take him out of the game that way.
Spencer moved, so he wasn’t unconscious, but was clearly woozy. Blood trickled from a wound at the side of his head, and he reached up to touch it before pulling back with crimson on his fingers.
I needed to run while I had the chance.
Instead, I found myself scrambling to my feet and approaching the little jerk who’d hit him in such an unsportsmanlike way. He was raising the branch, holding it threateningly over Spencer while taunting him with something I couldn’t quite understand. I thought he was calling him a pussy, but it was difficult to tell, because he was saying it so quickly. He seemed to be high on more than life, and I was genuinely afraid for Spencer.
I was also afraid for myself, because if he managed to take Spencer out of commission, he’d probably be able to take me. I really needed to run, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Spencer there alone. He was defenseless.
Or so I thought. For someone who had a head injury, he moved pretty quickly—one moment sitting on his butt and holding his head. The next, he lunged forward and knocked the little creep to the ground by hitting him in the knees. They wrestled together, and the thug-wannabe dropped his shield and branch. I rushed over and picked it up, waiting until I had an opening before whacking him upside the head in much the same way he must’ve done to Spencer. With a small groan, he went completely slack, and I was terrified I’d killed him.
As though reading my mind, Spencer touched the jerk’s neck. “He’ll live.”
A surge of relief filled me, and I tossed aside the branch as I looked at Spencer. For a moment, I was tempted to reach down and offer him a hand up, but instead, I did the sensible thing. I turned and ran.
He must’ve been slightly impaired by the head injury, because he wasn’t keeping up with me. I ran as hard and as fast as I could, somehow discovering my feet were fleeter today than they had been yesterday.
Either I was more accustomed to my environment, or panic was just giving me a surge of surefootedness, because I didn’t trip, and I managed to leap over several obstacles and keep running without even stumbling. It was an impressive feat of athleticism, at least by my standards, and I ran like that until my chest was burning, my side was aching, and I was forced to stop and bend over for a moment to catch my breath.
I dropped my backpack on the ground beside me as I struggled to regain my breath. My thoughts were finally crystallizing again, and the panic was fading. I wasn’t sure why I had freaked out, since I was sure Spencer didn’t plan to hurt me. Perhaps it was just the circumstances in that moment. Knowing he was on the cusp of literally claiming me, and ending any hope of winning the million dollars, plus surrendering to him for the rest of the weekend, had combined to give me a massive freak-out.
“How does he keep finding me?” I whispered the question aloud as it suddenly occurred to me. Spencer seemed to be able to find me far too easily. It was like he knew exactly where I’d be, but how could that be?
It seemed obvious he was tracking me somehow, and I didn’t know if it was some kind of electronic device he had smuggled along for the show, or if the producers had sold me out. That seemed just as likely a scenario after the way they had lied to us about our head start yesterday.
I couldn’t recall anything in the contract consenting to allowing them to share our location with the hunters, but I had signed off on an entire paragraph that talked about electronic tracking. Maybe it had been buried somewhere in there and couched in legalese, so I didn’t know to what I was agreeing. Or maybe they just didn’t bother to tell us or put it in the contract. Maybe it really was just incredible luck on his part, but that seemed like too neat and convenient of an explanation.
So how was he tracking me? My first thought was he must’ve put something in the flannel shirt, and I quickly stripped it off. I had no idea what I was looking for, but felt through all the seams and over the fabric, not finding any suspicious lumps or bumps.
If the tracker he used was similar to the one our vet had inserted in our cat a few years ago, it was probably about the size of a grain of rice. I wasn’t sure I could even detect it visually or tactilely, but eventually slipped on the shirt again. The idea of running around in just my bra was even worse than leaving a tracking device on my person.
The next option was the head cam, and I unclipped it. Looking into it, I said, “If you’re tracking me for him, the chip has to be either in here or in something you gave me.” I set it down on a nearby partially rotted log, not intending to put it back in my hair when I took off in a minute.
If it was in something they gave me, and if it wasn’t the camera, it had to be either the backpack or an item in it. Without knowing which article it might be, I couldn’t risk taking any of it—other than the water and the food, which I didn’t see how they could track.
I opened the backpack and removed the last bottle-and-a-half of water, shoving the full one in the pocket of my jeans. It was tight and uncomfortable, but would work for now. I carried the half-filled one and stuffed the rest of the energy bars into my other pocket. There was still an MRE left in there, along with my mess kit, but I couldn’t take them. I didn’t want to have both my hands busy should I need to defend myself.
The last thing I took was the fire starting set from the survival kit, which was thin enough to slide into the back pocket of my jeans. I was burdened with the bundles and feeling uncomfortable, but it couldn’t be helped. I no longer trusted the backpack, or any of the contents inside, including the tools and the emergency blanket. Any of those could hide a tracking device.
I still wasn’t sure if I was being proactive or paranoid as I took off, leaving the rest of my things behind. Being on this island had distorted my perception, and the show was starting to feel disconcertingly real. It was like being trapped in the jungle and hunted.
I hadn’t expected this edge of realism, at least not until I was captured. I’d known that would be plenty real, especially if I ended up caught by someone who only wanted to use or hurt me, but I hadn’t expected the hunt itself to feel like a life-or-death situation. It was strange and bewildering, but also kind of exhilarating in its own dark fashion.
As I started walking again, no longer able to jog because of the soreness in my legs, ankles, and hips, coupled with sheer exhaustion, it began to rain. I thought briefly of turning back to retrieve the emergency blanket, hoping to use it as an umbrella, but decided against it. Right now, it was just a light rain, and the leaves did a fair job of shielding me from the worst of it.
Chapter Nine
Spencer
How the hell had she gotten away from me? Cutting myself some slack, and due to the fact that my head was still aching, and I had an occasional moment of slightly blurred vision, I accepted I had been too slow to respond after that little shit hit me with the branch and tried to steal her away from me. I just sat there like an idiot as she stared at me before running. It’d taken me another couple minutes to really gather my senses and get to my feet to follow her.
At that point, I was still overly confident in the tracker, and I’d followed the route it mapped for me. It wasn’t until I was almost at the destination that I realized the red dot hadn’t moved for several minutes. I was terrified for her and broke into a run despite the pounding in my head, expecting to emerge to find someone attacking her, or her injured. Instead, I just found her damn backpack and some of her other items abandoned. She figured out I was tracking her somehow, and she’d left it all behind.
That had taken my advantage, and I’d spent the last few hours stumbling blindly through the jungle again, vision even further obscured by the periodic heavy rain. It came in waves, and sometimes the rain was so thick it drenched me in seconds while pounding against my skin with incredible force. Other times, it was a light drizzle, but it had rained steadily since almost the time she’d last slipped away from me.
I shouldn’t have gotten distracted by trying to subdue her right there in the jungle. I should’ve just thrown her over my shoulder and gone to the nearest cottage to claim her. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. The next time I got my hands on her, I was claiming her immediately.
I just had to find her first, and that was proving to be a bigger challenge than I’d expected. Without the GPS unit telling me where to look, I was just as blind and clueless as I’d been the first day. I didn’t like feeling out of my element or inept. They were emotions I’d never really experienced before. I was certain Foster would say it was a humbling experience that was good for me, but I was just getting increasingly frustrated and pissed off.
At first, when I heard someone calling, I didn’t realize it was her. I just kept walking, but then it penetrated it was a female voice. I veered, changing direction to head toward the sound, and the closer I got, the clearer the word became.
“Help.”
Someone was calling it over and over again, and there was an edge of panic to her voice. I was almost certain it was Anya calling, but with the intensity of the rain pouring down and distorting the sound, I couldn’t be sure. Even if it wasn’t her, someone was clearly calling for help. I didn’t have to claim a woman just because I rescued her, and this one sounded frantic. I couldn’t walk away from the fear in her voice. If someone had captured her, they were clearly doing something horrible to inspire that level of fear, and if the producers weren’t going to step in as they claimed, I damned well would.
I followed the sound of the voice for another couple of minutes until I found the source. My heart clenched for a moment, and I saw just a pair of hands clinging to a vine hanging over what looked like a steep drop-off. I recognized my flannel shirt on the wrists and hurried forward, though I slowed down and approached with more caution the closer I got to the edge.
“Help me. Is someone up there?” There were tears in her voice, and I knew for certain it was her. I’d recognize her voice now that I was so close even if I hadn’t seen the telltale flannel shirt.
Lying down on my stomach, I carefully inching forward so I could see over the drop-off. I saw her dangling below and reached out for her hands. “When I pull you up, don’t fight me.” I shouted so she could hear me over the rain.
She shook her head frantically, and not only did she not fight, she scrambled to get a purchase on the slick remnant of the ground that looked like it had washed out beneath her, helping me get leverage to get her up. Less than a minute later, I pulled her over the side and leaned back, sitting down to my butt with her on my lap, wrapped firmly in my arms.
As soon as I could stand up, I lifted her into my arms. My head throbbed for a minute, but I pushed aside the reaction as I clung to her. She didn’t offer any protest or try to escape, and I was certain she was too miserable to do so. I was concerned she was also injured, but wouldn’t have a chance to inventory that until I got her to a cottage. I was livid, wondering why no one on the show had tried to rescue her.
I slogged through the jungle, feet squelching under the mud that was rapidly forming from the decaying vegetation beneath us. I knew I’d seen a cottage not far back, and though it couldn’t have been more than a mile, it felt like I’d run a marathon by the time I reached it with her still in my arms.
She simply clung to me with no fight left in her as we climbed the steps. Somehow, I communicated to her to open the door, and she managed to do it. Since it was unlocked, it wasn’t likely to be currently occupied.
Once it swung open, we stepped inside. I didn’t relax even slightly until I closed it behind us and locked it. The producers of the show surely had key cards to all the cottages, but it would keep any of the other hunters from trying to break in and take what was mine.
I didn’t let go of her as we moved through the nicely appointed accommodations. We went straight down the hallway, where I could see the bathroom, since the door was open. I elbowed on the light before setting her on her feet on the cool tile. “Don’t move,” I said sternly, half-expecting her to argue.
Looking exhausted, she just shook her head. Her teeth were chattering, and she was hugging herself now that she no longer had my body heat.
I went into caretaker mode, which was unaccustomed for me. I’d never really taken care of anyone who was ill or indisposed before. It was a new feeling, but nice, I decided as I bent down to start running water into the tub that was large enough for two. After that, I turned to her and started methodically stripping her clothes. She didn’t protest.
I wasn’t certain if she could fight back or try to escape even if she wanted to. She was obviously chilled to the bone and shaking something fierce. When the water was deep enough, I set her inside and spent a moment undressing myself before getting in behind her.
She settled back against me, seemingly unconcerned about her nudity or mine. I imagined she was experiencing a bit of shock, because I didn’t expect easy acquiescence even after I claimed her and brought her to a cottage. I looked her over quickly, but found no sign of injury.
I was concerned about her as I reached for a cup that was on the side of the bathtub and started pouring warm water over her hair. She still shivered, but they gradually spaced apart as I continued to pour warm water over her body before saturating her hair completely and adding shampoo.
She moaned and leaned back against me as I worked a generous lather through her thick, dark locks. By the time I got around to rinsing out the shampoo, she was no longer trembling. Her body no longer felt like a block of ice against mine either, and she was starting to stiffen against me.
I ran a hand down her hip. “It’s all right. You don’t have to do anything yet. Just take a few minutes to recover.”
“I should try to run away.” Her voice lacked any conviction, and she simply leaned back against me.
I was disconcerted by this helpless kitten routine. I wasn’t even certain if it was her, or there was some physical reason why she was acting this way. Did she have an unseen internal injury? When I asked if she hurt anywhere, she just shook her head again and cuddled closer still. Her surrender was unsettling. Frankly, I’d expected more of a fight.
I was flustered to realize I’d actually been looking forward to her struggle and eventual submission. I shifted uncomfortably as my cock hardened, imagining how much sweeter it would be to slide inside her slick heat after I had earned the right to do so.
She was still cuddling against me, and her soft snores clued me in that she’d fallen asleep. With a shake of my head, torn between tenderness and a little bit of annoyance that we weren’t going to have our fun and games yet, I stepped out of the bathtub with her. I carried her straight to the bed and laid her down on it before tucking the light blanket over her.
I crawled into bed beside her, deciding it wouldn’t hurt either one of us to have a small nap to recharge. I hadn’t slept well last night crouched on the floor of the jungle, and I doubted she had very restful sleep in her tree perch either.
