Page 33 of Anton

I nodded, shivering as I watched him walk further into the trees. Picking up a small branch, I began clearing the area where we could sit—and later lie down to sleep. Glad that I could do at least something to help, even if only this.

When Anton returned, I watched with awe yet again as he built a small fire, his movements fluid and sure. Then, with even more astonishment, I saw him open the back of his leather belt to reveal hidden items carefully placed throughout its length. It was like a survivalist’s treasure trove. He pulled out a Swiss army knife and a flint, closing it back up with ease before lighting the fire.

Unwrapping the fish, he placed the pieces on several thin sticks he’d clearly gathered for this purpose, balancing them on the surrounding stones.

“Better get out of those wet clothes now,” he said.

I bit my lip and nodded, standing up. Slowly, I removed my boots, which were now looking worse for wear. My socks came off next, and I laid them beside the fire. Finally, I pulled off my dress, leaving my underwear on, not quite ready to take things that far.

All the while, I deliberately avoided looking at Anton, but I knew from the rustle of clothing that his were coming off too. Oh my! After laying my dress beside the rest of my stuff, I quickly sat on the ground, legs tucked up and arms circling them, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. Anton took a seat next to me, and I tried hard not to look. I really did. But it was impossible. My eyes were drawn to him, and I scanned him under my lashes.

Lord, the man was a god. All hard planes and chiselled muscles. I gulped, thankful that he was still wearing his boxers. Well, I told myself I was thankful, but my inner voice just sniggered in response. My breath hitched as I saw he was looking at me in the same way, with the same level of appreciation.

Tension crackled between us, and the air felt charged with anticipation, thick and heady, like something was about to snap. But then, as if on cue, the smell of cooking fish filled the air and my stomach growled. Anton’s followed, and we laughed, breaking the spell.

Smiling, Anton moved over to the fire and checked the fish. “It’s ready,” he said, placing the cooked bits on the leaves he’d wrapped them in earlier and coming back to sit beside me again. “Try it.”

I picked a small piece up, careful not to burn my fingers, and popped it in my mouth. The flavour burst on my tongue, and I couldn’t hold back the moan as my empty stomach responded to the rich, smoky taste. It was as if every bite were a reward for the journey, each morsel laced with the hunger I hadn’t even realised I’d been suppressing.

Anton watched me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Good, huh?” he said, his voice low, but there was something more in his gaze now, something deeper.

I nodded, still savouring the taste. “Incredible,” I murmured, licking my lips.

His eyes tracked the movement. Was he going to kiss me? God, I hoped so.

Licking my lips again in anticipation, the fish was momentarily forgotten, but he didn’t move to claim my mouth as I’d hoped. Instead, he picked up another piece of fish and held it near my lips. Eyes locked with his, I opened up and took the offering, chewing slowly. Every cell in my body was on high alert, waiting, hoping, wondering what he’d do next.

Smirking, knowing full well the effect he was having on me, the bloody man left me hanging, popping a bit of his own fish into his mouth. And just like that, the moment was gone.

So, he wanted to play games, did he? Well, I wasn’t a master event planner for nothing. Fun and games were my forte, and he was about to find that out. Game on.

CHAPTER 14

ANTON

DAY 1 – EVENING – PET NAMES?

We finished the rest of our fish in silence, and I was grateful for the distraction the few minutes of filling my belly allowed.

All too soon, it was time to get some rest. I took the leaf I’d used as a makeshift plate from Marcie. As my fingers brushed hers, she shivered, and I knew it wasn’t just from the chill of the night air.

Quickly turning away, I tossed the leaf into the fire before checking the progress of our clothes. I sighed. They were still far too wet to put back on. Damn it. There was nothing for it.

I glanced at my Little Miss Sassy. She’d wrapped her arms around her bent legs again, her body trembling with the cold. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and the slight shiver in her frame told me she was feeling it. She stifled a yawn, and I knew I couldn’t stall any longer.

We’d trek through the forest as far as possible tomorrow; the shade would keep us cooler than the scorching sun we’d endured earlier. With luck, we’d find a road or a village where we could get help. But tonight, as the temperature dropped, the forest was already sapping what little warmth we had. At least it wasSeptember, and from what I could tell, we were in Spain, so it wouldn’t get freezing. With shared body heat, we’d manage.

But that in itself presented another problem. To share warmth, we’d have to get close—very close. Semi-naked as we were, and with my cock already making its opinion on the idea known, that was going to make for a very uncomfortable night.

Resigning myself to the situation, I moved back to the fallen tree and lay down. Marcie was lost in thought, her gaze distant. Was she thinking about the situation? Me? Both? I longed to know but didn’t ask, unwilling to open a conversation I wasn’t ready for.

“Come here,” I said, my voice gruff but low enough not to startle her.

Her gaze flicked my way, and I patted the ground beside me. She didn’t stand, just shuffled closer. But not close enough.

“Closer,” I said. “Come lie down beside me.” Trying to act nonchalant, I bent my elbow and tucked a hand under my head, patting the hard earth beside me again. I willed my cock to stop twitching. Down, boy. That is not happening. If anything did happen between Marcie and me—and I still wasn’t sure I’d let it—it shouldn’t be when she was terrified, vulnerable, and we had a pack of bloody sick bastards hunting us.

My Little Miss Sassy raised an eyebrow.

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