"Melanie?"
She sat bolt upright.
"Damn it. Isn't there any privacy on this stupid island?" She said irritably.
It seemed that every few minutes she would slip into a reverie of some kind but never get farther than she just had. Her lust and desire were always just beginning to rise but were never satisfied, then a deep sexy male voice would call her to herself again. Or she would notice a pair of lustful deep brown eyes watching her. Even if she had packed her vibrator and even if it was salvaged from the wreck, she wouldn't have been able to use the damn thing. It reminded her of the summer camps she had been on as a teenager, bunking with a roomful of other girls and just talking and thinking about the boys in the male dorms every spare minute of every day, and then even more intensely at night. There had been nowhere to do it though, not with the camp monitors watching them like hawks twenty-four hours a day. Not with public showers you couldn't touch yourself in. How the hell were any of the boys or girls ever to get their minds off the opposite sex under those conditions?
This situation was ten times worse -- God no, it was a thousand times worse! Alex and Sebastian weren't two goofy teenage boys; they were tall, handsome, confident, and very wealthy men. From what she could tell, both of them longed to fuck her as well. Even though there were no camp monitors, they were all adults, and there were only three of them on the island. Hell, she might as well have been locked in a convent with buff, tanned, naked fire fighters parading around outside her cloister window.
The man looking at her looked hesitant, respectful.
Alex. She thought.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Strong and I have come up with an idea. It may be a little crazy but look, what else are we going to do until we get rescued from this damn island?"
His eyes were filled with longing but at the same time, he carefully remained a respectable distance from her. It drove her mad.
This one always did the same. He was so careful not to touch her under any circumstances and all the time she was just crying out for his touch, dreaming of his hands, his fingers, his arms, his chest, his hungry mouth against hers...
The other one was different. He always came close to her. His animal scent and masculine presence filling her senses and sending her raging hormones into overdrive. But he was careful never to touch her either, unless it was some half-intentional light brush of his hand or thigh here or there. It drove her mad but made her go the opposite way. She wanted the big tease to be reduced to his knees, to tears if possible, begging her to touch him. Of course, he would do it if she asked him. She was sure of that. But she intended to make it so that he wasn't sure of anything. If he was lying to her, then he deserved every bit of the pain she would inflict upon him.