by Lynsay Sands
Especially if she was going to start having sex dreams about Tomasso, she thought unhappily. Abigail didn't know what she would do if these dreams continued once he was out of her life. They were hot and awesome while they were occurring, but waking up to reality afterward . . .
Shaking her head, she glanced back toward the trees, wondering how long she would have to wait for Tomasso to wake up.
Tomasso continued to lie where he was long after Abigail slipped away. He had to wait until his erection fully deflated before even considering getting up, mostly because he didn't think he could do so without screaming. In truth, he was amazed he hadn't woken up screaming when the agony in his cock had dragged him from the dream. He had not been kidding when he'd said she was killing him. He'd simply been confusing the tightness of the vine around his cock in reality with her tightness in the dream.
Groaning, he closed his eyes and simply waited.
Wrapping a vine around his cock had seemed like a good idea when he'd had it. Unfortunately, Tomasso hadn't thought to remove it before lying down to sleep, which would have been good considering that another symptom of life mates was shared dreams.
To be fair, he hadn't experienced them with Abigail before last night, so hadn't thought of them as an issue. And that did make him wonder. Why hadn't they had the shared dreams before this? A couple of explanations came to mind. Perhaps he had, but because he hadn't woken up in the middle of them he simply hadn't recalled them when he did wake.
An alternate option was that since those other times they'd slept had been after passing out from the shared pleasure, perhaps they simply hadn't had them. Perhaps life mates didn't experience shared dreams when well pleasured.
He should ask someone about that, Tomasso decided. And he would, as soon as they reached civilization. But now he had to get up. His erection was gone, the tightness around his penis had eased, and the pain had receded a bit. Not completely. He suspected some damage had been done, which at this point meant that it would not heal until he'd fed and the nanos had blood to make repairs with.
However, since the rest of him was suffering agony due to a lack of blood, Tomasso supposed adding one more pain to the list was not a big deal. At least he thought that until he tried to move.
Oh yes, penis pain beat all the others hands down, he acknowledged miserably.
On the bright side, he could probably take the vine off now.
"Tomasso, stop!" Abigail snapped, and caught his arm to force him to a halt when he continued his hobbling gait forward. "Stop. You need to rest or something."
"I am fine," he said through his teeth. "Really."
She snorted with disbelief. "Look at you. You can't even walk upright. And your legs are so far apart you could fit a bull in there. What the hell is--?"
"Abigail," he snapped, silencing her. "I will be fine as soon as we reach people."
She stared at him silently, her lips pursed. She'd thought he might be in pain yesterday. She'd even wondered once or twice if that might explain his distant behavior, but he'd assured her he was fine. He was still doing so, but now she wasn't buying it. The man was in obvious agony. He was sickly pale, sweating and walking with his legs as far apart as he could get them. The only thing she could think was that he had an infection of some sort, or maybe a boil in an embarrassing spot, like his upper thigh or maybe even on his balls.
Whatever it was, it was obviously causing him a great deal of discomfort that he was trying to muscle through and she wasn't having it. If it was an infection that had grown over the last couple days then it needed tending. Infections could get deadly in hot, humid jungle situations. He could develop jungle rot. If he didn't already have it.
"I want to see," Abigail said finally.
"No," Tomasso growled.
She narrowed her eyes. "I've had some medical training, Tomasso. Let me see. Maybe I can help."
"No. Is fine. I--" His words died on a curse as Abigail suddenly dropped to her knees and jerked his leafy loincloth aside.
"Dear God," she whispered, staring at his abused member. She'd thought a boil, or some other infection, but this . . . Abigail shook her head slowly. This was--"Was it a crab?"
"I do not have crabs," he growled indignantly.
Abigail glanced up to him with surprise. "I didn't mean crabs. I meant--" She glanced back to his penis and winced. "It looks like a big old crab crawled up while you were sleeping and clamped down on your penis with its claw a couple dozen times or more. I've never seen anything like it," she added with fascination, shifting her head from one side to the other to get a good look at the cuts and abrasions striping his skin.
Tomasso closed his eyes on a sigh. This was not the kind of fascination for his penis that he'd been hoping to elicit in Abigail.
"Well," she said now. "I'll have to put antiseptic on it."
Tomasso blinked his eyes open again and said wearily, "It is fine, Abigail."
"And antibacterial cream," she added ignoring him.
"Leave it," he almost begged.
"It should probably be bandaged as well to prevent further infection," she muttered, glancing around with a frown before asking, "What did we do with the first aid kit? Oh, there it is," Abigail answered herself as she noted it hanging from the strap of vines he'd fashioned and slung over his shoulder to save having to actually carry it.
Standing, she grabbed the vine strap and started to lift it off his shoulder, but he caught the strap before she could fully remove it. "Abigail, no."
"Stop being a baby," she scolded, tugging the vine free of his grip and kneeling to open the first aid kit. "This needs to be tended to. Do you want your penis to fall off?"
"I should be so lucky," Tomasso muttered. Right now he'd be happy for that to happen. At least the pain would ease then. He might actually be able to think again then too.
"Think of me as a doctor," Abigail suggested, selecting different tubes and swaths from the pack.
Tomasso stared down at the top of her head and raised an eyebrow. Doctor? Despite his throbbing penis, his thoughts ran more along the lines of playing doctor with this woman. It did not help that she was kneeling in front of him in the same position she would be in were she about to take his cock in her mouth.
Much to his amazement the thought was enough to stir interest in his poor penis and it began to swell, bringing on even more pain as the cuts and abrasions the vines had caused in his skin stretched and in some cases split open. Tomasso bit back a groan and closed his eyes.
"Wow, that's gotta hurt."
Abigail's mutter brought his eyes open again to see that she was visually examining his penis as it swelled. Fortunately, she was not touching him. Yet. The thought of her actually touching him made him swell further.
"Abigail, please," Tomasso groaned miserably. "Just leave it alone."
"No, I'm sorry," she said firmly, opening the antiseptic. "It has to be tended. You could develop a tropical ulcer, better known as jungle rot. It's called that for a reason, you know. Tropical ulcers can invade deep tissue, even bone. Your penis could literally fall off if this isn't--"
Abigail paused to give him an apologetic look as he gave a startled shriek of agony. She'd applied the antiseptic and to Tomasso, it felt like she'd poured liquid fire over his sore cock. He'd never experienced such pain. Nearly having his arm severed from his shoulder some years back did not compare to the agony her nursing caused.
"Yeah, that's really gotta hurt," she muttered and did it again.
She was punishing him.
That thought drifted through Tomasso's mind and he opened his eyes to peer around the makeshift camp Abigail had created in the hours since she'd "tended" his injured penis. She'd scavenged several armfuls of palm fronds to make a sand free bed for him, and then insisted he lie on it, saying it would reduce the risk of sand getting into his wound. Tomasso had been too exhausted from the pain she'd caused in her "tending" his wound to argue and had dropped onto it. But it was the most uncomfortab
le damned bed he'd ever lain on. The leaves of the fronds weren't so bad, though the fronds tended to stick to his skin. It was the stems that made the "bed" unbearable. They were hard and at angles, poking into his skin.
Abigail had also wrapped a coconut in her jeans and blouse to make him a pillow, which was sweet, but even the jeans and top did not soften the hard shell of the coconut. She might as well have given him a rock.
Once she'd had him settled to her satisfaction, Abigail had scavenged up some coconuts that had fallen from the trees nearby and left them for him to drink and eat. Unfortunately, three of the four coconuts she'd found had cracked as they'd fallen from the trees and were infested with bugs. He'd had trouble opening the fourth coconut. It would have helped if he'd been allowed to get up and find a rock to bash the coconut on, but Abigail had shrieked at him twice when he'd tried to rise from the sickbed she'd made him.
The sweet angel who moaned and sighed in his arms was a harridan as a doctor, Tomasso decided. Giving up on the possibility of a rock, he'd made do with his own brute strength and made a mess of it, splashing the coconut water everywhere when he'd finally managed the task. More of the precious liquid had landed on him than he'd got in him and now he was uncomfortably sticky everywhere. He was also attracting ants.
While Tomasso had been busy with that, Abigail had actually fashioned a crude spear using the scissors from the first aid kit and a branch she'd scavenged while hunting up the coconut. She had also then caught a fish, and built a fire to cook it over. Tomasso had had to rub two pieces of wood together to make a fire when he'd built his. But Abigail had found waterproof matches in the first aid kit to help her with the task. She now sat on the sand at the edge of the jungle, in only her tank top and panties, burning that fish. He could smell that it was burning from way over here, but she was just sitting there letting it burn.
Definitely punishing him, Tomasso thought on a sigh and glanced down toward his penis, which was presently a white gauze-wrapped stump sticking out between his legs. This time it wasn't sticking out because it was erect. It was sticking out because Abigail had wrapped it in gauze, and then wrapped a metal roll-up splint around that, before finishing with another round of gauze. The splint was to protect it from being bumped, she said. What it did, however, was make it look like he had a whale penis. All right, it wasn't that bad. Whales' penises were eight feet long or something. So, horse penis was probably more correct. Whatever the case, it presently appeared to be twice the size it really was, and was extremely heavy.
Tomasso had no idea what he was supposed to do when he had to relieve himself. The idea of removing the gauze and splint, only to have her insist on replacing it, was not a happy one. And Tomasso was already a very unhappy camper. Not only was he in pain and uncomfortable, but her insistence that he lie here and recuperate was not getting him closer to relieving his discomfort and pain. All he needed was to feed and everything would be fine. The cramping in his body would stop, his penis would return to its normal, happy state, and Tomasso would be his usual, strong, pain-free self. But Abigail wouldn't even consider his suggestion that they keep walking. He was to rest today. Tomorrow they would continue on their journey if she judged him well enough to do so.
When he had given up suggesting and determinedly insisted that they forge ahead, Abigail had dropped on her ass in the sand and said fine. Then he should go on without her, because she was not moving. Tomasso could hardly leave her there in the middle of nowhere by herself, so he'd caved in to her demands. One day of rest and they would head out again. He just hoped that day of rest didn't leave him in an even worse state than he was presently in, although it was hard to imagine being any worse off than he was at the moment.
Grimacing, Tomasso glanced to Abigail again and couldn't help noting that while he was miserable, she appeared to be in her element. Tending to his wounds seemed to have boosted her spirits somehow. She had turned into this bossy little take-charge dynamo, bustling about and getting things done. She was born to be a doctor, he thought wryly, and decided once this was all over and everything was settled, he was going to make sure she finished medical school and became the doctor she was meant to be. He would see to that even if she didn't agree to be his life mate. She deserved it.
Abigail's chin fell off the arm she'd rested on her upraised knees and she woke up with a start, frowning when she smelled the charred odor in the air. Damn. The fish, she thought and quickly removed it from the fire. She'd dozed off while cooking it and now it was a little overdone.
"Dammit," Abigail muttered, but then heaved a sigh and shrugged. It wasn't too bad, not black or anything, at least not everywhere. They'd just have to make do.
Heaving herself to her feet, she quickly kicked sand over her fire, dousing it. Abigail then carried the skewered fish to where Tomasso rested.
"Here we are. I'm afraid I nodded off and it got a little crispier than I would have liked. Just don't eat the black bits. The rest should be good," she said cheerfully, offering him the skewer.
Tomasso eyed the offering dubiously and then glanced to her to ask, "Are you not having any?"
"Actually, I'm not hungry. I am tired though, so I think I'm just going to nap," she said, stifling a yawn.
"You need to eat," he insisted as she settled on a clean bit of sand not far from him. "And you need liquid."
"Later," Abigail muttered, stifling another yawn as she dropped onto her side and curled sleepily into a ball. They hadn't been up that long but she was exhausted. Dead tired. She heard Tomasso saying something else, but it was just a "wah wah wah" in the background as she slipped into sleep.
Tomasso stared at Abigail's back and frowned. He was quite sure she'd fallen asleep in the middle of his lecture that she needed food and sustenance to keep her strength up for their journey. It was probably that lack of food and liquid that was causing her exhaustion, he thought with irritation. She would feel better if she ate.
Tomasso glanced to the skewer he still held, and then held it aloft as he eased up to a sitting position. When he managed the task without terrible agony shooting from his groin, he released a sigh of relief and then proceeded to get to his feet. That wasn't as pain-free as just sitting up had been. The gauze and splint shifted with his next efforts and he sucked in a deep breath as pain shot through him. Truly, with the agony the rest of his body was in, he was surprised the pain in his groin was so troublesome. But the rest of the pains wracking his body were nothing compared to the penis pain. He even forgot about them when that pain struck.
It took some time, but Tomasso managed to get to his feet and make his way to Abigail in a sort of half duck walk that left his appendage unmolested. He was mightily relieved to be able to stop when he reached her side though.
"Abigail." Squatting beside her, he nudged her shoulder.
She mumbled sleepily, but didn't really stir.
Frowning, he nudged her again. "You need food."
Her response was an incomprehensible mumble, so Tomasso tried again, this time reaching to brush the hair off of her face. He paused though when he felt the heat radiating from her. Tomasso was no expert on mortals, but she seemed quite warm to him. Not dangerously so, but he suspected she had a low-grade fever.
"Abigail," he said with concern, trying to turn her over.
"Go away," she muttered, reaching out blindly to push him away, and smacking his mummy-wrapped penis.
Tomasso let out a stunned whimper, dropped the fish and fell back in the sand as agony shot through him. He lay there on his back for he didn't know how long, his legs bent and in the air and his hands on either side of--but not daring touch--his bandaged penis as stars exploded behind his tightly shut eyes. When the pain finally receded and he had the presence of mind to open his eyes and look around, Abigail hadn't stirred, the skewer of fish was half buried in the sand, and night had fallen.
Tomasso eased his feet carefully to the sand and when he completed the task without further pain, released a relieved sigh. H
e then closed his eyes again briefly, wondering when his life had gone so out of control? He'd thought his situation bad when he'd woken up to find himself naked in a cage and unable to escape. But waking up to find Abigail there, and realizing she was not only a good guy, trying to rescue him, but his life mate, had seemed to be a gift from God. How had it all gone so wrong?
The hum of an engine caught his ear as he was pondering this and Tomasso stiffened, and then turned his head to peer through the trees toward the ocean. His eyes narrowed as he saw a boat cruising slowly into view. Thoughts of Jake and Sully, the men who had put him in the cage, immediately came to mind, but there were four or five men on this boat, and most of them were carrying long thin sticks that he suspected were fishing rods.
The engine cut out suddenly as the boat paused almost directly in front of where Abigail had made their camp, and a burst of laughter floated across the water and sand to his ears.
A chartered fishing boat, Tomasso thought, his eyes scanning the occupants as they dropped their lines and settled in with beer and chatter. The long walk he'd subjected Abigail to through the afternoon and night before had definitely got them closer to civilization, and luck had brought civilization closer to them when these fishermen had chosen this spot to stop in. Things were looking up, he thought with relief, and rolled cautiously onto his side and then eased to his hands and knees to get up.
The white gauze wrapping at his groin was like a beacon when he made it to his feet. It stood out in the darkness. Tomasso tugged his makeshift loincloth around to cover it, and then moved cautiously out of the trees. Walking hurt like hell, but knowing it would soon be gone, Tomasso was able to ignore the pain as he crossed the sand and started into the water.
He expected the salt water to sting the abrasions on his damaged member, so was pleasantly surprised when the cool water was soothing rather than painful. Tomasso could only think the gauze was filtering out the salt and keeping it from getting to his wounds. Relieved by that, he struck out for the boat resting about a quarter mile out in the water.
