I settle back on his legs, making sure to put my weight on his good leg and avoid the injury to his other leg. That gives me time to recover from the whole condom comment. Unfortunately, he has a point. Naked is a bad idea out here, and I’m not interested in getting pregnant any time soon.
“It is beautiful.” I twist around to take in the beauty of the jungle and inadvertently place too much weight on Max’s injury. Not wanting to hurt him, I reluctantly crawl off his lap and turn around until I’m once again sitting beside him. “So, tranquil.”
Indeed, it seems as if the jungle holds its breath. An eerie calm fills the air. Beside me, Max’s entire body tenses. He puts a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet, and grabs his rifle.
We hold our breaths. Too terrified to move and make an inadvertent noise; my entire body stills. Far below, the sound of something large crashing through the jungle reaches our ears. Max taps his ear, cocking it forward while I press my back against our little hollowed-out tree.
That’s when I hear the indistinct voices of several men. They push through the vegetation without a care for stealth. I still remember how silently Max and Knox navigated the dense foliage with barely a sound while I lumbered through it like an ox, tripping nearly every other step.
On full alert, Max’s weapon is at the ready. We should be safe. That was the whole reason for the complex climb up to our perch.
Up one tree, cross the canopy to the next tree, using a bridge of limbs. Up again, only to cross over one last time. I thought I was going to die.
Knox moved like a leopard with lethal grace. Even Max moved easily, quietly, and he has a leg with a bullet still in it and an injury to his arm.
We wait for several long minutes, long after the last crash and crunch, before Max finally settles back beside me. He’s warm, with sweat beading his brow, and looks exhausted.
Warm?
Sweat?
I’m warm, but the air’s not that hot. The humidity of the day is still locked in the trees and leaves. I place my hand on his forehead and wince.
“You have a fever.”
“Was afraid of that.” He winces and casts his gaze out at the jungle.
I wait for what seems like forever, thinking he’s got more to say, but when he keeps staring out at the leaves, I tug on his sleeve.
“We can’t stay here. There has to be a village nearby. A pharmacy? Someplace to get medicine?”
Infection’s setting in.
I can see Max try to deny it, holding his own council. The play of expressions across his face is comical, as if he’s arguing with himself and losing. Just when I think I need to step in and demand we leave, he gives a sharp nod.
“We go.” His bloodshot eyes give a slow blink.
Not sure if that’s from lack of sleep or the infection. I wonder if we shouldn’t stay here and wait for Knox to return with his team.
He stares back at the jungle, casting about for what? I lean next to him and stare with him, trying to figure out what he sees. Then I realize he’s tracing out a path, following limbs to other trees and trying to find another way down.
“Max, if those men passed us, they probably aren’t going to come back this way. Why don’t we just climb down this tree?” I bite my lower lip. “Although, I don’t know where to go from there.”
“We head West. There’s a rural village two clicks away. From there, we’ll wait for a chicken bus to come along. Take that to…”
“A what?”
He turns to me, mirth filling his eyes. Okay, maybe he’s not as tired as I thought. I don’t know how that can be, considering he kept watch all night while I slept like a baby beside him.
“Have you never ridden on a chicken bus?”
“I don’t know what that is, so I’m guessing no?”
“Ah, the magical chicken buses of Central America…” He gives me a playful shove. “They are a bucket list experience.”
“Never heard of it.”
“You’ve probably seen one in a movie, just didn’t know the name.”
“I take it there’s something involving chickens.”
“Not as much these days, but that is how they got their name.” He lumbers to his feet, favoring his good leg. “I’ll tell you about it on the way down.”
I gulp as I lean out of our tree and stare down the dizzying height. A chicken bus is the least of my worries. I’m more worried about breaking my neck.
Thirty-Four
Eve
Surprisingly, getting out of the tree is way easier than the climb up. There are so many roots and vines winding around the trunk that I have no problem finding hand and footholds. Climbing down a ladder is probably harder than getting out of this tree.
We stop twice on the way down, standing on broad limbs, while Max listens for the men. But he doesn’t hear them, and neither does the jungle.
All the birds, bugs, frogs, monkeys, and all manner of beasts wake up and greet the day with a cacophony of hoots, hollers, chirps, tweets, and birdsong.
Once we get to the ground, I brush the dirt and grime from my hands on my pants and look expectantly at Max.
“Where do we go now?” I’ve never been this lost in my life. Max, however, shows no hesitation.
“West.” He executes a precise pivot and points.
“How do you know that’s west?”
He points overhead at the sun. “Rises in the east, bubbles. Everyone knows that.”
Max flashes one of his magnetic grins, teasing me. Then he pulls me to him, wrapping his arm around my waist as he leans down and kisses me senseless.
My blood goes from simmering to nuclear hot in a nanosecond as the firm pressure of his mouth devours mine. I turn into a puddle of sensation as his greedy mouth takes and claims, overloading me with sensation and burning desire. My body responds to the heat of his kiss with a gasp of wanting much, much more.
When I look up, the arresting features of his face make me tremble. Every nerve in my body is on notice, acutely aware of the promise behind his kiss. His thumbs rub tiny circles along my spine, which make me shudder and sigh in contented bliss.
The tenderness of his kiss is enough to make me swoon. The promise for more makes me burn beneath the rush of his exhales and the tiny whimpers coming from my mouth.
Kisses laced with the promise. The man is an expert with his tongue. He kisses me in a way I’ve never been kissed before, engaging his entire body. From chest to hips we’re bound together with the need rushing through our bodies.
Max isn’t ashamed to let me feel every hard inch of his molten desire either, shamelessly grinding against me. But then, I’m pretty shameless myself, practically humping his leg.
Give me a roof over our heads, a warm bed, and the safety to strip bare and I’m there. I can’t wait to discover what else he can do with that wicked tongue. Not to mention, I’m eager to wrap my hands around what he’s packing in those pants.
He pulls back, winks, then executes a sharp about-face with a smug expression plastered on his face. Yeah, he knows exactly what he did to me, leaving me wet and wanting—for him.
As we march through the jungle, I pay close attention to Max. He walks in front of me, clearing a path, but I worry about his leg and the infection setting in.