“Hey! Look what I found!” Mason’s voice echoed from across the water. I could see him standing behind the waterfall and peering out from through the veil of water. “There’s a cavern back here!” With a laugh, he dove through the falling river and off the ledge, into the dark depths below. He surfaced a moment later, spewing water and laughing as he swam over to where I sat.
“There is a big space behind the waterfall. Why don’t we stop here for the night?” His face lit up, making him look about ten years younger. He hadn’t smiled this much in days.
Playfully kicking my feet I splashed him, the cool water raining down over both of us. Squealing as I felt it land on my hot skin, I leaned back on my elbows and raised my face to the sun. “Alright, big guy. You set up camp behind the waterfall, and we’ll stay. I want to clean up some.” I sniffed my shoulder and scowled. “Ugh. It’s been a week since it rained, and I feel gross. There’s too much glorious fresh water here not to take advantage of it.” I fell backward, lying flat on my back with my arms stretched out.
“Deal.” He did a flip in the water and swam on his back before playfully rolling over and swimming back. Beside me, he hauled his gorgeous, dripping body out of the pool. “I’m gonna dry my clothes on that bush over there. Give me your pack and I’ll take it with me.”
“I’ve got it. You go on. I’ll join you in a little bit.” I had brought a tiny sliver of soap with me, and I fully intended to use it. While Mason set up camp behind the waterfall, I came to my feet and stepped into the water.
Standing fully clothed beneath the falling water, I soaped my hair, my body, my soiled shirt and pants, and let the water wash away the dirt. When it finally began running clear I pulled off my wets clothes and soaped up again, using my shirt to scrub every inch of my skin until it was pink and shiny. Then I stood there, shivering under the cold water.
In this remote jungle, far from everything I knew, I could see the beauty in its simplicity. I’d grown up with everything I’d needed, never having to worry about food, clothes, or shelter. In fact, I had more than I needed. It had never occurred to me that anyone grew up any differently.
College, work study, Mason, and the jungle had all altered my understanding of life. I was receiving both an education and a new perspective on the world. My life of opulence was a fantasy that had done nothing to prepare me for the real world. Dad cutting me off was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. While I would love to have skipped the plane crash, even that horrible tragedy had taught me about myself.
The fishing village had been small, poor and very, very happy. You could see the love the mothers felt for their children, the husbands for their wives, and the children for their parents. Their lives were simple but full. They lived free of the unnecessary trappings of the modern world.
What little they had, the village had shared with us. The old woman nursed Mason. José’s family fed us and gave us a place to sleep. They shared everything they had. My house was different, and Mason’s even more so, when he’d had one before his father died.
I couldn’t believe the side of him he’d shared with me. No one would ever guess Mason Alexander, playboy billionaire, had lived on the street, homeless and hungry. Who would suspect his dad had died penniless or that his mom had worked two jobs just to put food on the table.
Who was I compared to that?
What do I want out of life?
Chapter 22
Mason
Spreading our clothes out in the sun, I took the time to empty our filthy packs. They’d been questionable to begin with, cobbled together from this and that, but after daily use and hundreds of jungle miles, they were stretched out of shape and wearing thin at the bottom. The hike had torn and spattered them with all matter of organic material. Sorting through their contents behind the waterfall, I shook out the two blankets we had with us, creating the best bed I could on the rock floor. The cavern was fairly shallow, but big enough for a king-size bed with space to the side for our bags.
I finishing my chores and was ready to relax and have some fun. Canon-balling through the waterfall, I landed with a giant splash in the middle of the pool, sending a tidal wave of water over Kinsey as she floated blissfully on her back with her eyes closed, relaxing.
“Mason!” she squealed. She sat upright in the water and came after me. I pretended to run away, letting her catch me and laughing as she fought to shove my head under water. Darting away I stayed just out of her reach, teasing her until I finally relented, letting her catch me again. “Got you!” she shouted in triumph as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
She was warm, wet, and naked. Catching me and sliding her body down mine until we were eye to eye, her playfulness suddenly changed. Her movements became sensual and fluid. Those delicate hands roamed my body, pushing me back until she had me pinned against a rock at the edge of the pool. They explored the planes of my back and chest, before venturing lower, following the trail of dark hair to the springy curls around the rod growing thicker and harder between my legs.
I closed my eyes and a shudder ran through me. She wrapped her fingers around my cock and began to slide her hand up and down the length of my shaft, stroking it from base to tip. Then her other hand cupped my balls, gently squeezing them, rolling them between her fingers as she leaned forward and kissed me. Her tongue explored the seam of my lips, dipped inside to tangle with mine, and then retreated before coming back to dance again. Our kissed deepened and I eagerly drowned in it.
“Sit on the edge,” she whispered, her voice sultry, her eyes holding a promise of pleasure.
Boosting myself up out of the water, I did as she asked, watching her every move. My desire threatened to overwhelm me, and I started trembling as Kinsey advanced. Hips swayed as she rose out of the water, a goddess rising from the depths. She came to stand between my legs and knelt before me, taking the throbbing head of my rod into her warm mouth. Running her tongue around the tip, lightly stroking the crease, she sucked the rest of me into her mouth, until it touched the back of her throat.
Bobbing her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners, she looked up at me with a smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing to me. she slid up my growing length until only the tip remained in her mouth, then she plunged back down, burying her nose in the nest of curly dark hair encircling the base of my shaft.
Holding me in her mouth, gliding up and down the length of my shaft, her lips made a perfect rosy pink ‘O’ around me. She turned those big blue eyes on me once more and I was lost. I slipped into their depths and I let myself let go, cumming in waves, over and over again. She milked every last drop from me until I fell back, spent. I had no clue she could hold such power over me.
Kinsey
Curling up next to Mason, my head on his chest, a small satisfied smile played across my lips. This was the first chance I’d had to reciprocate the gift Mason had given me that day in the rain, and I thought I’d succeeded. Snuggling closer into his side, I wrapped an arm around him while he recovered. I could feel the aftershocks ripple through him as came down from his high. I did that, I created that pleasure, and I have the power to do it again.
Eventually a hand came up to tuck me in closer to his side and caress up and down my arm. The light touch of his fingers caused the hairs on my arm to rise and goosebumps formed in the path they traveled.
“You are something else. I totally didn’t expect that.” The words rumbled through his chest as it rose and fell rhythmically below my ear.
“Sometimes a girl just has to exert her power,” I said, giggling and propping myself up on my elbow. “I just didn’t want to show my hand too soon.” I started tracing circles on his chest.
“You definitely have the power.” His smile glowed in the sunlight. “I don’t think I can move.”
“You mean you aren’t going to take advantage of this naked woman in your arms?” I purred in his ear. “Really?”
“You gotta give me a minute. A man needs a
little time to recover from something like that.”
Chapter 23
Kinsey
Mason refused to explain how we’d escaped the rebels. I was afraid I knew what had happened, but I didn’t press him further. He didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to force him. Slowing down, I linked my arm with his and leaned into his strength as we walked.
“What is the first thing you want to do when we get out of here?” I asked, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Eventually, we would have to talk about all of this, but clearly now wasn’t the time.
“Mmmm.” Playing along he kissed the side of my head. “I want a steak—a juicy, cooked-to-perfection, oozing-with-flavor, thick porterhouse steak and a bottle of my best wine.” He smacked his lips. “I can practically taste it. You?”
“A shower. A hot shower—no, wait—a bath. A long bubble bath. I want my strawberry scented bath gel, lots of frothy white bubbles, candles, soft music, and at least an hour of soothing hot water. I hurt all over. My bruises have bruises. Maybe a nice glass of cold wine, but mostly I just want hot water.”
We settled our pace into a rhythm. The walking was a lot easier than it had been in the mountains. As we walked farther, the jungle thinned.
“Garbage!” Unlinking my arm, I reached down and picked up a plastic water bottle. “There was someone here!” Ever the optimist, I chose to think it was someone good. Finally we were starting to see signs of humanity. Looking ahead, I could see other bits of trash, and I knew we had to be getting close.
“Following the river, we had to hit the sea eventually. Maybe this is finally it.” Mason looked relieved, his face losing the pinched expression he’d been wearing since he woke up from the crash. The lines in his forehead didn’t seem as deep, and his eyes had a bit more life to them.
Coming around a bend in the river, I stopped. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Look!” I shouted and started running, streaking toward a small house that suddenly appeared like a mirage next to the water. Only, it was real.
The small shack had a clothes line strung up with shirts and pants flapping in the breeze. A small dog roamed the length of a chain in the front yard, yipping to announce our arrival. In a downstairs window, a curtain was pulled aside, and a face peered out at us.
We had made it.
Mason
The small house belonged to a poor Nica family. The father was a fisherman who made his living on the river. They spoke a native dialect, but the oldest child spoke enough Spanish and English to give us directions to Bilwi. This family was completely off the grid, but Bilwi was home to 30,000 people in Puerto Cabeza. One of them was bound to have phone service. We might even find an airport.
It was only a few more hours to Bilwi, and we practically ran the whole way. The sight of a telephone pole brought tears to my eyes. It was the first sure sign that we were definitely going to survive the horrible ordeal.
That first phone call was weird. Standing in the town square, an old fashioned pay phone was as close to modern living as the town had to offer. It was enough. Dropping in the coins I’d traded my extra shirts for, I dialed the international extension for the US and called Mark.
“Mason?!” I pulled the receiver away from my ear as he shouted. “Oh my God everybody, it’s Mason!!!!” I could hear a chorus of cheers over the phone line. “Mason, is it really you? Don’t go away! Where are you? Are you okay?” The questions came so fast they overwhelmed me.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine. We’re in Bilwi.” I was surprised by my own lack of enthusiasm. It was almost a letdown, after the weeks of trying to find our way out of the jungle, to finally be there, safe.
“Where the hell is Bilwi?”
“We’re on the east coast of Nicaragua. There’s a little airport here. I’ll explain everything later. Can you get us a charter into Managua?”
“Oh my God, yes! Anything! I’ll set it up right now.” I could hear him typing in the background. “We thought you were dead. Mom hasn’t stopped crying since your plane disappeared. I was planning your funeral!!!”
“I’m not sure how we survived.” I took a deep breath. “It’s just me and Kinsey. The crew didn’t make it.”
Silence flowed over the line.
“I need to get some money too,” I said. “This is not a town that takes credit cards.” My brain didn’t want to switch over from survival mode.
“I am so sorry Mason.” Mark swallowed before continuing. “Don’t worry. We’re coming to get you. We’ll be in Managua in six hours.”
“Thank God, Mark. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I called Liam,” he said. “I thought maybe he could help. He came back from God knows were. He’s been trying to track the plane. He called in a favor at the pentagon. The US military has been searching satellite images for the crash. Liam was ready to deploy his team to search the jungle on foot.”
DO-DO-DO the phone trilled in my ear, to continue your call, please deposit more money.
“Mark, I’m running out of coins.”
“I’m still working on a flight from Bilwi for you. Give me the pay phone number. I’ll call you back in 15 minutes. Hang in there, Mason. It’s almost over.”
“Thanks, Mark.” I hung the phone up and stepped back out of the booth.
Liam? He called Liam? I never thought I’d hear that name again. That angry kid had fought against everything Noah tried to do for the group of us. He enlisted in the military before he even graduated from high school, and on graduation day, he walked off the stage and out of our lives. I’d heard he was a spook somewhere for the CIA. I had no idea Mark was still in touch.
Mason
Mark wasted no time arranging the private charter. The air taxi flew from Managua to Bilwi, and we were strapped in for takeoff in under two hours. It was the only plane at the airport, the daily commuter having already left, so there was no waiting on the tarmac. We were in the air within minutes of boarding. An hour later, we were standing safely on solid ground again in Managua.
I was a worried how we’d both do, our first time on a plane since the crash. I admit I was a little hesitant as I climbed in. The plane was old, the paint scratched and faded, but the pilot was an ex-pat, and after quick conversation about his military flight training, I trusted him.
Kinsey trusted me. “He’s well trained,” I told her as I helped her with her seatbelt. “The skies are clear.” I took her hand in mine to reassure her, and that now-familiar tingle ran up my arm. When we hit some mild turbulence along the way, she whimpered and turned her frightened eyes to me. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it softly, watching the tension drain from her face. I held her hand all the way to Managua.
A car was waiting for us when we reached our destination. The Aeropuerto Internacional Augusto C. Sandino, Managua’s international airport, was busier than Bilwi’s, and the sudden immersion into hustling, bustling civilization rattled me. Settling into the plush seats of the black Lincoln, I felt like an imposter. Unbathed in ratty clothes, I was not the Mason Alexander who took this all for granted. I was changed. As I wondered if Kinsey felt the same, I saw her shiver in the cold air conditioning, so I pulled her close and held her to keep her warm.
Chapter 24
Kinsey
I think I was in shock. The last few hours flew by in a blur. From the moment I knocked on the door to the little house, to the moment we climbed into the limo, life sped by at a surreal pace. Shivering in the back of the limo, I snuggled close to Mason, the one constant in my life.
From the moment we boarded the plane in Bilwi until the moment the black limousine delivered us to the Hilton Princess Managua, I didn’t speak. Something about the concrete lions that greeted us outside the hotel’s glass entrance and the wall-to-wall marble in the lobby felt absurdly indulgent. We were back in the modern world of luxury and accommodation, but I seemed to have left my voice somewhere in the jungles of Nicaragua.
Alerted to our arrival, a concierge whisked us up to th
e executive floor and into a suite where 250 thread count sheets, fluffy bathrobes, and a big bathtub awaited us.
Standing in the middle of the room, slowly turning in a circle, Mason saw my confusion. “Kinsey,” he said, “baby, it’s okay.” He took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. Undressing me like a child, he spoke softly to put me at ease. He turned on the hot water and added some of the complimentary bath gel the hotel had left for us. “Here.” He picked me up and gently set me in the tub. “Just close your eyes and relax, I’ll be right back.”
I don’t know how long he was gone, but it was long enough for me to fall asleep. Waking as he returned, I realized the water had grown cold. Much of my stiffness was gone, my head felt clearer, and my stress was nearly gone. The bath had done its job.
At some point, Mason must have showered. He was clean and dressed in new clothes. He had shaved, and the whiskers that had graced his jaw for the past few weeks were gone. He looked younger, stronger.
Kneeling by the edge of the bath, he turned the faucet to hot, warming the cooling water. He took a soft washcloth from beside the tub and began to wash me. Slowly dragging a cloth along my limbs and gently wiped away the dirt and grime until all traces of the jungle were gone.
Closing my eyes I fell into the sensation—the rhythmic swipe of terry cloth, the drops of water rolling across my skin, and the chill I felt when he withdrew his touch.
Moistening my lips, I became hyper-aware of my body. Every inch of my skin felt electrified with little jolts shooting through me wherever his hands landed. Tilting my head back, Mason poured warm water over my hair, massaged the shampoo through my blonde strands, and then rinsed away the dirt and oil.
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 15
