Page 24 of Gripp

She had her feelings about people, which was why she was so good at her job. If he was going to share more with her, it would be when the time was right for him or when she felt he would be susceptible to some prodding.

She also had a sneaking hope that he was starting to like her. Even after the sex, which was spellbinding, April had been unsure. Men would have sex with anything that had a pulse in her experience, even someone they didn’t particularly like. Especially if he’d been imprisoned for a while, the man must have been bursting.

But he had made sure she came, which was more than any woman could ask for.

They walked an hour in silence. The only sounds were made by their feet moving through the dirt and a few tiny creatures creeping around in the dark. Soon enough, Gripp stopped abruptly, which made April freeze in fear.

He smiled down at her, then leaned down to her level. She smelled his natural rustic scent as he nearly pressed his cheek against hers. She thought she was going to faint because he smelled so good.

“There are mangroves along the edge of the water there,” he whispered into her ear. “I think I see a hut we could get down to.”

April was speechless, the sensation of his hot breath against her skin causing her to lose all track of time. All she could do was swallow hard and agree.

“That sounds good,” she huffed out.

Gripp leaned up, smirking. Did he know the effect he had on her?

“Follow me,” he said.

She did as he asked, and they moved along the ending trail, coming upon the mangroves that bunched together near the edge of the island. Their clustering, droopy shape made it easy to hide within. They would likely not be spotted in the dark.

Gripp asked April to stay back while he checked out the hut. She did as he asked, again, which even she knew wasn’t particularly like her. Maybe she was starting to trust him already.

“All good,” he said, holding a hand out to her.

She frowned, then took it as she stepped down from the elevated hill. “What the hell are these used for?” April asked, trying to distract herself.

“Usually hunters when they watch out for alligators or crocodiles,” he remarked, taking off his backpack.

April reluctantly let go of his hand, feeling empty once he removed it.

“People hunt crocodiles out here, eh?” April said.

She made a mental note to remember that as Gripp planted his butt on the dirt mound within the tiny dwelling.

“It’s one of few sources of protein around here,” he said. “Trust me, once you get desperate, there isn’t much you wouldn’t eat out here.”

April sat next to him. There wasn’t much space in the hut, but she didn’t mind. Above them, vines of the mangoes hung like thick, protective spider legs.

April felt her essence blending with his, and she realized that she was starting to care about what he thought of her. She never really had time for men in her life, other than a few good romps in the sack to release the stress of her career. What they thought of her was even less important.

But their fingers touched again when Gripp removed some of the food the monk had given them. Their eyes met, and she felt a crackle inside her chest.

Her face was warm with a blush, and she quickly took the food and looked away.

“That makes sense,” she said, trying to gaze into the dark.

They ate the bread and raw vegetables, then her eyelids became heavy. She laid out the backpack and used it as a pillow.

She didn’t expect Gripp to take out a blanket and wrap it over her, then settle behind her to spoon her body. It made her heart pick up the pace again, and the urge to press her ass against his cock was powerful.

“Get some sleep,” he said, then kissed her cheek.

Her body melted and froze at the same time. The kiss lingered until her body finally gave into rest, imagining them fucking in such a small space. It would have to wait. They were both beyond fatigued. But that didn’t mean the thought didn’t tantalize her, lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

Gripp held her tightly against him, his hands resting on her hips as he, too, fell off to slumber without another word.

FOURTEEN

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