Page 20 of Ripe & Ready
We stay like that for a long moment. Breathing hard, covered in sweat and banana, tangled in a sticky, ruined mess of our bed.
He turns to me with a sigh and brushes a strand of sweat-slick hair off my forehead. “You know what we call that?”
I blink at him, confused. “What?”
He snorts. “Banana bred.”
What Ishouldbe thinking is, “God. How did I get so lucky” with sarcasm. What I’mactuallythinking is, “God. How did I get so lucky” no sarcasm.
No irony. It’s all full-blown, head-over-heels sincerity.
The joke was terrible, but it’s also perfect. A playful whine escape me as I bury my face against his shoulder before glancing back up at him.
“I smell like breakfast,” I grin. “Tomorrow morning, you’re getting me waffles.”
7
I’ve spent more years of my life longing for Derek than not. So when I wake up in his arms, my first thought is this has to be a dream.
Maybe the whole thing was. Maybe when I open my eyes I’ll be back at the start of our trip. Still jet-lagged and anxious, gearing up to trek into the jungle to spot Calliope and Neptune for the first time.
Maybe I was bitten by that spider. Maybe it wasn’t just a harmless tree spider. Maybe it was actually venomous and I’m in some kind of slow-motion, venom-induced haze. Caught in the liminal space between life and death, where your wildest desires stop feeling so out of reach and everything you’ve ever wanted folds itself into a perfect little fever dream to ease you into the afterlife.
Maybe this is peace. Maybe this is me, dying.
Honestly? Not a bad send-off.
But then I hear the soft rustle of leaves outside the hut, the early hum of the Congo waking up. The lingering mix of musk and coconut body wash on my skin floods my senses and I feelhim. Derek’s warm body is curved against mine and his hard cock tucked against my ass is a very persuasive reality check.
I’m here. I’m in the Congo. With my best friend. And maybe we’re in love.
He nuzzles into the curve of my neck offering me a few lazy kisses and throwing in a couple sleepy nibbles for good measure.
“Morning,” he mumbles, voice all rough and raspy and weirdly hot considering the sun’s still not fully up.
My own hardness pressing against his when I roll to face him. My lips part with the threat of a moan I manage to keep quiet.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
He rubs the sleep from his eyes and smiles. “Best sleep of my life.”
“Same.”.
“So…” he trails off.
“So…” I echo.
“More gorillas today.”
“More gorillas,” I nod.
“A whole new group.”
“Awholenew group.”
“Are you excited?”
I squint. “Won’t they look the same?”
