by Daya Daniels
The sweat.
It drips over his tanned flesh. Slowly, it descends down the middle of his chest and through the sparse line of hair that trails its way down his stomach and over the V muscle at his hips.
“Tenley.” The deep voice jerks me out of my illicit fantasy.
I flinch. “Yeah.” My eyes find his awkward expression and his blues again which sit beneath thick arched brows.
Why?
It’s the only question I can ask myself. But the word applies to so many questions—too many to ask myself, or him, or even God right now. There isn’t enough time in the universe to answer the “whys.”
Fuck.
With a breath, I avert my gaze from his immediately. “Okay, yeah, no acrobatic moves. Got it.” Heading off, I glance over my shoulder to find him still staring, eyes narrowed, looking pissed as ever. I march through the tall grass which licks at my ankles and tickles my shins until I’m almost jogging, needing to get away and be alone.
These days alone is all I feel.
Brooks
HEAVING FOR BREATH, I stand straight and observe her as she trods downhill, her wild golden strands flowing behind her as she disappears from my view.
I’m glad she’s gone.
Because right now, I can’t fucking stand her.
Each time she’s near me, the soft scent of her skin wafts my way, the ocean in her hair, the sweat on her flesh, the sheerness of the dress she’s wearing that melds perfectly to her breasts always showing off her perked nipples. I hate that dress. I hate that I’m here. And right now, I hate myself.
I set the axe down slowly and march toward the hut. Once inside, I snatch up the jug of water, take a few gulps of it and set it down. With a breath, I stare up at the ceiling, then I pull the waistband of my pants away from my skin.
And there it is, angry and swollen, dripping.
I grip it with a hand and growl.
It hurts.
I should leave it alone.
But, I can’t.
I pull my shorts down releasing myself and spend quite some time staring at my cock, debating exactly just how long I can will myself not to touch it. And wondering just how long a man can have an erection for before it starts to mess with his health. This couldn’t possibly be good for me…
Sighing, I wipe a hand over my face.
I’ve been doing this often when I’m here.
The cigarettes. The jerking off. The former was at one point my only solace here and now the latter is all I have left.
I adjust my dick, groaning at the sensation in my balls which are swollen, again.
Shifting, I move to pull my shorts back up but freeze.
Fuck.
I can’t work for the rest of the day like this.
There’s no goddamn way.
Inhaling loudly, I spit into my hand and when my fingers wrap around my cock and I move it over the swollen flesh, I practically fall over. I won’t bore you with the content of my thoughts...I place a steadying hand on the windowsill and tug on my dick, working it expertly from root to tip. Once I’m over how shitty I feel, I let my moans and groans mix with the soft breeze not caring about this primal act. The movement becomes vicious as my hips thrust wildly, fucking the wet cocoon which my fist has made. I shudder violently, gasping, shaking, my bare feet sliding over the wooden floors. And then I’m expelling loud and long wails while spurting into my hand and soaking it with my cum.
And there’s a lot of it.
Too much.
More than what seems humanly possible.
Shit.
I slump against the wall, panting. Quickly, I grab a rag and clean up the mess. After I toss it down, I stare at my dick, angry at it because it’s still hard.
This was good enough when I was a teenage boy.
But I’m not an adolescent kid anymore.
I am a man.
Running a hand over my beard, I groan and accept that I’ll be back in this tiny hut jerking off once more before I must go home later.
Cock tucked away, I head back outside in the breeze and beneath the sun.
And I get to work.
Tenley
I COULDN’T FIND PENI.
My guess is that she’s made some animal friends here.
She spends her days swinging from the trees and picking fruit. There’ve been a lot of days when I have wished I could swing from those vines with her. After that awkward run-in with Brooks, I walked back to the house then gathered up everything I needed and then left to collect crabs.
Now, I’m here, the proud possessor of an empty net.
I’ve been here for a while.
The sun beats down on me and the winds have picked up. The water laps against the rocks and splashes me occasionally but still I keep working, continue searching. The crabs crawl over the rocks. When I spot one, I dash for it, attempting to lay the snag over its body, but it’s too quick. It slips in between the rocks and I’ve lost my chance.
My chest deflates with my breath.
I gaze out at the ocean—so magnificent, so endless, so far away from home.
Another crab pops its head out.
“Okay, you little bastards, I’m getting serious now.” I gather all my hair up and secure it in a messy bun on the top of my head and set off carefully, maneuvering over the rocks.
I spot another crab.
Making a dash for it, I toss the snag and trip. “Aaaaah!” I fall to the rocks and land awkwardly on my side. The snag tumbles far away from me. I stare at it all for a long while before I bother to move. With a groan, I roll onto my back and lift my hand that’s now grazed and bleeding.
I’ve picked up so many markings since I crash-landed here—scratches, scars from cuts, bruises from injuries. And it’s then that I remember I haven’t even seen my own face in a mirror in a while. I’d seen my warped reflection against the surface of the water. A flash of myself in a windowpane. But never a clear version of me. What do I look like now, really? What about me has changed? I have no clue who I am anymore! I stare up at the blue sky above. The earth turns. Nothing pauses. The world doesn’t stop spinning because of my pain. It’s only a reminder of how insignificant I am in this entire universe right now. I’m alone. Here and now, in this moment, I’m completely alone.
I don’t move, just lie down as if I’m dead. Then I cover my face with my hands and sob.
Chest-shaking wails leave me for the life I once had that I’m desperate to get back to, for the happiness that once found its home in my heart. I cry for my husband and the details about his face that I can no longer remember. If James were here, he’d…
“Tenley.” A strong arm slips beneath me and scoops me up with ease before I can even answer to my own name being spoken. Through my watery gaze, I find myself peering into Brooks’ blue eyes and at the distinct scowl which accompanies them. “Christ, I told you I didn’t want you out on these rocks alone.” He sits me upright and cups my face in his hands, examining me. “Are you okay?” He smooths my hair that’s now everywhere away from my face then drops down into a squat in front of me.
“Yeah.” I wipe my tears. “I just hurt my hand.”
He takes it in his large palm, examines the blood there then sucks the wound clean. “This will need to be wrapped.”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s just a scrape.”
Cradling my face in his palms again he peers into my eyes.
I try my best, truly not wanting to appear on the outside as pathetic as I feel on the inside, but the water forces its way through even when I shut my eyes occasionally, and I’m crying again. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get these stupid fucking crabs, and I fell, and then I just stayed there…” Thinking about what would happen to me if I just rolled right into the sea, disappeared, and found myself no longer bound by the confines of this world…
“Oh, Tenley.” He smiles. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
His words only make me cry harder.
“I’m sorry.”
He pulls me close to his hard chest and wraps his warm arms around me. I bury my face in the tattered material of the shirt he has on. Holding me tighter, he cradles my head and pulls me in close. My nose is snuggled in the crook of his neck, and I just breathe, still weeping. I hang on to him. God, do I hang on to him. As if he’s my only lifeline left. And the only person who likely understands my agony.
The salty wind washes over us. The water splashes gently against the rocks. The birds which fly overhead cry out. And Brooks starts to sing that song again. I giggle softly and just listen. My tears ease. And so does my breathing. I hold on to him as we rock. The vibration of his deep voice soothes me. And the sensation of his heartbeat beneath my ear is a comfort.
Reminds me that we’re still alive. We’re fine.
The song ends.
He backs away and searches my face with his blues. “A little better?”
“Yes, thank you.” I chuckle, nodding.
“Good.” He helps me to stand.
My eyes drift over his face, his chest, and then down to…I’m back on his face, taking little breaths.
“I’ll get the snag.” Discreetly, he adjusts himself. “And I’ll help you catch the crabs, okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “That would be nice, thank you, but I want to do most of it myself.” I scan the treacherous rocks.
“Okay, I totally get that, Tenley.” He jogs away from me, rescues the snag, and makes a show of it by holding it over his head, making a funny face and gesturing wildly with it while dancing a stupid jig.
I giggle, appreciating that he’s trying to cheer me up. But all I can focus on is that big ol’ erection in his shorts that no amount of showboating on his part could ever distract me from.
Still, right now, he’s my hero.
And my husband’s best friend…And my best friend’s husband…
And I must never forget that.
Brooks
LATER THAT EVENING…
The house smells of boiled crabs and sweet frangipanis. The sea breeze drifts in through the windows and the golden sun is on its way down and readying to slip beneath the horizon. I’ve showered already and so has Tenley. Peni is taking a nap. And now I sit at the table just watching Tenley who’s had her back to me for the last hour. Since this morning, her mood has lifted but her eyes won’t meet mine and her voice has been softer than usual.
I can’t ask why.
I’m terrified of the answer.
As if it isn’t all as obvious as our predicament.
I run a finger over the grooves in the surface of the table, scratching at it and examining my hands—rough, tanned, covered in cuts and scrapes. They’re different. As is everything.
A breath leaves me when I lift my head.
Tenley moves around with ease, humming, plating up the food. No complaints from her sore hand that really was just a scrape.
Twiddling my thumbs, I swallow the awkwardness which lingers in the air.
I should’ve stayed at the hut…
Fuck.
I’m still unsure of why I hadn’t except for that Tenley and rocks don’t quite go together. And I was right about that. I had a plan today. One which had the boat I’m carving much further along. Instead of focusing on the job I had to do, I finished early, almost had a heart attack when I discovered Tenley clinging to life, and then spent the rest of the day exploring the island with her. I’d convinced myself that I was attempting to cheer her up when really the company and the break from slaving away under the tree somehow had truly made me feel better.
Her tears affect me.
And once they had stopped, it was as if the sun had shone a little brighter in my world.
Smiling, she spins around. “Okay, food is ready.”
I stand.
“No, please sit. I can do it.” She sets the plates down. “We almost didn’t have these crabs for dinner.” She giggles.
And you nearly didn’t make it to dinner…because you almost died on the rocks today.
I suck in a breath. “But we do have them. And you caught them all…”
Her brows collide. “With your help.”
I laugh a little. “No, I think I just stood guard, Tenley. You captured these yourself.”
She laughs, glances at me quickly and then her eyes are away from me again.
Am I wrong to expect her to look at me?
She bows her head and says a short prayer. I shut my eyes too until she’s done.
Then she looks at me. “I’m grateful for this meal.”
“Yeah, me too.” I peer down at the fat morsels of crab on the platter along with the colorful vegetables and salad from the garden which accompany it.
Tenley digs in. Then so do I.
“I’m angry sometimes, Brooks.”
I keep my head low.
“And often I don’t know what to do with that emotion. So, I cry.”
I finally look at her. “Is that what today was?”
“Yeah, I suppose.” She sucks on a crab claw. “Am I the only one here who has meltdowns?” Her ambers linger, asking all the questions I’m not willing to answer and then she giggles. “Actually, I take that question back.”
Thank you.
“I’m not like you, Brooks.”
“What does that mean?” I scowl.
“I don’t have my own place to sneak off to where I can go and smoke my cigarettes and stare at the sun.” She laughs.
But is it funny, really?
I stop eating, lean my forearms against the edge of the table, and don’t blink. “Well, firstly, I didn’t build the hut to get away from you.” Yes, I did. “And I no longer have cigarettes to smoke, thanks to Peni. And when I’m there, I work. There is no staring at the sun.” I place my hand down on the table, almost slamming it there.
“I’m sorry.” The words leave her mouth quickly. She stares at the table for a moment then runs a hand through her hair. “I’m saying stupid, jerkish, and rude things.”
Yes, you are, considering I chopped down an entire tree with the sheer work of my own manpower using an axe, so that I can build a boat to get us off this fucking island!
“I’m sorry.” With regret etched in her features, she lays her hand over the top of mine.
Just when I detect the tremble in it, she pulls it away and gazes out the window.
My eyes flicker over the used but new dress she’s wearing. It’s one I haven’t seen before.
Pale pink.
Thin.
Tattered.
Yet…
An acceptable version compared to all the others. A deliberate attempt to cover up more…A good thing. A damn good thing. And it’s all possibly because she saw the outline of my dick today!
How do I possibly explain? It would be like trying to convince someone that there is no ice in Iceland! Exactly…It makes no sense! Best not to say anything at all…Yes, that’s it. Just take a vow of silence.
Inwardly, I curse myself.
“I just wish you’d let me help with the boat, Brooks. It would get done much faster if you let me help.” Tenley smiles.
She has a fair point, but…
“We only have one axe, Tenley.”
“We have other tools lying around here that could be useful too. I would think four hands would be better than two. I have so much time to spare around here, Brooks, often I feel as if I’m wasting it. I could really use the distraction. You should let me help?”
“These crabs are exquisite.” I savor the meat that leaves the claw which I hold between my fingers.
“Brooks.”
I sigh. “Okay, Tenley, you can help, Jesus Christ.” I chuckle, still annoyed though. “You aren’t going to let this rest, are you?”
Her brows arch. “Nooooo, I’m right and you know it. I can help. We can get it done faster if we both work together like a team. The boat will be done sooner, and we’ll be on our way home even faster.” She grins.
Something akin to heart-stopping fe
ar settles in my chest.
I swallow it down.
“What is it?” Tenley stares me down.
“It isn’t that simple, Tenley.” I finish my food and nudge the plate aside.
“Of course it is. What do you mean?” She cants forward.
With a breath, I tap on the table. “I have to make oars, four of them, six to be on the safe side.” Just in case we lose two.
“Okay then, I can help you with that.”
I rub my jaw, debating if I want to go over my real concerns.
“Brooks.” Her eyes urge me to speak on what currently knocks around in my head.
I exhale and gesture with a hand. “Tenley, we don’t know where we are.”
“We’re somewhere in the Indian Ocean.”
The Indian Ocean—the third largest ocean in the entire world which covers more than twenty-seven point two million square miles of the earth’s surface. Bounded by Asia, Africa, Australia, and at its very south, Antarctica! And carries a maximum depth in places of nearly eight miles. We could be anywhere in the middle of it. And the ever-changing temperatures here between the cool weather, the blazing heat, and the monsoon rain haven’t provided me with any more direction in that matter than I had when we first landed here. Pretty hard to solve a Rubik’s Cube when the colorful squares are constantly shifting.
I laugh softly. “Yes, I think that is obvious. However…”
“Brooks, I think you’re making a bigger deal about this than you need to be. Once we have the boat completed—”
And we’re far from having it completed.
I sit back in my chair, sprawling, excruciatingly bored with this conversation already. “And I’ve made it seaworthy.”
She stills then nods.
I tilt my head forward a few times. “To make sure it doesn’t tip the fuck over with the slightest wave.” And we all drown…
She nods once more. “We should—”
My lips curve up into a pissed-off smile. “Jump in it and sail out and into the open goddamn ocean with no idea where we are or where we’re headed…away from land, shelter, food, fresh water, and safety to float in the midst of twenty-foot tiger sharks and killer whales and to take the chance that some passing ship, provided that we’re even near a busy shipping lane, will find us before another freak storm and the rogue wave it’s likely packing does?” My jaw aches by the time I complete my tirade.
