Page 54 of The Last Man on Earth
Week 2
Chapter 25
Vincent
Neither one of usslept a wink last night.
Ari laid there shaking all night, while I stayed upright, my back against the tree trunk, scared that if I closed my eyes, I might lose consciousness and never wake up. That’s how we lost my cousin Yara. She fell off a bike, hit her head, laid down on the couch to take a nap, and never woke up.
At first light, I finally saw what almost killed me last night.
Mind you, I always thought of pigs as these cute round cuddly pink animals that roll in the mud and oink. Or as bacon. Or as a slab of sliced ham with pineapple rings on top. But this hairy bitch I’m staring down at is grey and ugly as shit. And dead, but that ain’tmyfault. It was him or me.
I don’t waste time reliving that shit. I grab its feet and drag it away from the shelter so Ari doesn’t have to see it. I get to the edge of the tree line and drop it, then I walk straight to the water to wash the blood off, stripping myself naked as I move.
Fuck.
I forgot I was hurt until the saltwater hits my wounds. It stings so bad, a yell tears out of my throat before I can stop it.
I’m surprised when Ari comes running up from behind me, calling my name. She has my knife is in her hand and her face is twisted in anger. She’s madder than I’ve ever seen her. Even through my pain, I can’t help but smile at that. She stops short at the edge of the water, staring back at the boar without flinching like I thought she would. She lookspissed.
“Aye,” I say with a grimace. “I’m hurt. I need—“
“I got you.”
She sprints back into the trees, returning a few minutes later with her hands full. She hands me my soap, then lays my clothes on top of the first aid kit, her eyes raking over my chest. “Did it bite you?”
“Nah.” The soap hurts worse than the damn salt. “His horns got me a few good times. But my wingspan is long. I kept his ugly ass from doin’ too much damage.”
Her lips poke out. “That looks so bad.”
“You should see the other guy.”
Her laugh cuts through the sadness of the situation. I mean, I don’t think either one of us is sad that he’s dead, but it’s an uncomfortable feeling to realize we ain’t alone out here, and there are probably a bunch more just like him in those woods.
As I wash myself, my mind goes to Tupac, for some reason. My nigga got shot five times and lived to tell it. So now I’m wondering if I can get any clout for this. If maybe I can rap about killing a wild boar with my bare hands. Truthfully, I put an axe in his dome, but niggas ain’t gon’ split hairs over that shit.
Alright, enough of this. I step out of the water without thinking, naked except for the sand clinging to my feet. Ari can’t look away, her eyes tracing every inch of me until they meet mine.
I know it took everything in her not to linger on my dick. I already know it’s big, but I’ve also been told, many times, that it’s pretty.
She swallows hard, then says, “I brought your clothes.”
She hands me a t-shirt to dry off with, then a pair of underwear. She’s ignoring the tension between us, and I’m in too much pain to say something nasty, so the moment passes us by. Maybe I’ll circle back in ten minutes.
I sit on the sand while she tends to my wounds. She uses a gentle hand to apply ointment to my cuts, then she bandages them as best she can. There’s so many, she gives up eventually, but every time her fingers brush against my skin, a shiver runs through me and I forget the cuts and the holes and the pain. My dick wakes up, not giving a fuck that I’m injured.
When she’s done, Ari lifts herself onto her knees to put herself at eye level with me. Her gaze is soft. Grateful.
“Thank you,” she says. “For what you did last night. You saved my life.”
“It ain’t nothin’,” I say. “You saved mine on the plane. I just returned the favor.”
Her head shakes slightly like she wants to disagree, but no words come. Only her hands on my face, just before she presses her lips to mine. I kiss her back immediately, pushing my tongue into her mouth, hard and deep. She doesn’t fight me this time. She lowkey sucks it in, and that’s the moment I know it’s on.
I knew it was coming.
I grab everything that’s within my reach, which, with my wingspan, is pretty much all of her. Soft skin. Luscious curves. Booty meat. I palm it, squeeze it, then lay back, bringing her with me. The sand is rough on my back, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m moving her now, gripping her hips, grinding her back and forth across my dick.
