I roll my eyes and lie down, scrunching my body against the interior. “Get in here. I don’t bite.” I know why he’s reluctant. It’s that monster in his pants that I’ve pointed out like some sort of blushing virgin. Hell, I don’t blame him for that. “Monster in his pants” might be putting it mildly. Too mildly.
I’ve dated guys of all shapes and sizes. I’m no stranger to sex, and I’ve seen my share of ugly penises. Circumcised, low hanging balls, I’ve seen it all. However, I’ve never seen a dick that’s quite as big as Mendoza’s. He’s gone past the whole “lucky guy” category and straight into the “what the ever-loving fuck” category. The “don’t get that thing near me” category. The one that makes my legs tighten and want to clamp together at the thought. I haven’t seen him naked, but if what is outlined in his pants is legit, he’s abnormally huge. To think I mistook it for a weapon earlier is laughable.
No handgun is that big.
Thing is, I don’t care about the size of his dick. I mean, not as more than a conversational sort of topic, like my heterochromatic eyes. But I know Mendoza’s a guy, and if we snuggle—based on his reaction to me before—he’s going to get wood. That will make things super awkward.
But if we don’t snuggle, he sits in the rain and we lose out on body heat. That puts things decidedly in the “snuggle” column. I cradle my bad arm against my chest and pat the palm fronds on the ground, avoiding any misgivings I might have about this. “Come on.”
Mendoza moves in next to me, though I can tell he plainly doesn’t want to. All right. I’m going to have to make the first move if we’re going to get past all this awkwardness. I wait until he stretches his long legs out and then I move a little closer to him, tucking my head against his shoulder again and pressing up against him. Not in a sexual way, just in an innocent sort of cuddle.
He hesitates for a moment, and then puts a hand around my shoulders.
“Watch the wrist,” I say, gesturing at my bad arm.
“I should look at it.”
“In the morning,” I say, because it’s getting so dark I can barely make out Mendoza. I actually don’t want anyone to touch my wrist right now, including myself. It hurts too much. I lean against him, and he’s warm like my own personal radiator. That’s really nice. I almost don’t mind that it’s raining and getting cold and dark.
Almost.
It’s silent in the jungle as it gets dark. Too silent. I hate it, so I speak again. “Maybe we should play a game.”
“Hmm?”
“Yeah. You tell me one thing about you that I don’t know, and I tell you one thing about me that you don’t know. Each night. By the time we get out of here, maybe we’ll come out of here as friends.” I nudge him with my good elbow. “Though I’m gonna be real honest and say I’d prefer we left as strangers because we get rescued so fast.”
He chuckles.
“I’ll start,” I say. “My eyes are two different colors.”
“I knew that.” His voice is soft in the darkness.
For some reason, I feel a blush creeping over my cheeks. “Okay. I told you that I’m a hand model, right?”
“You did. Keep going.”
“Okay.” I try to think of a different fact for my game. “Here’s one. I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. Camp. He was a counselor and all of fifteen. It was all very glamorous when I was a kid, but looking back, I guess it’s pretty stupid.” I smile faintly at the memory of what a dumb, rebellious teen I was. “He had such smooth moves, though. Even sang me a Justin Timberlake song. I was hooked after that.”
He snorts. I can’t tell if he’s amused by my anecdote or grossed out. I guess I wouldn’t blame him for either.
“Your turn,” I say.
Mendoza’s quiet for such a long time that I start to wonder if he’s going to play our game or not.
I drum my fingers on his chest, waiting. “Well?”
He stiffens against me. After a long, tense moment, he says, almost grudgingly, “My friends call me Rafe.”
I roll my eyes. This is what I’m getting from him? “Gee, what a secret,” I say dryly.
He doesn’t respond. Against my shoulder, he’s all tense again. Uncomfortable. I wonder if he has another erection.
I wonder if he’s going to spend the next few days—God, please let it be only a few days!—awkward around me. I guess we need to get things out in the open. “Maybe we should talk about it, Rafe.”
“It?”
“You know. Godzilla.”
CHAPTER TEN
RAFAEL
I wonder how long it takes to drown yourself in a rainfall. Or at least kill an erection permanently. If I believed in a higher being, I would suspect that I was being punished for some bad deed I’ve done in the past. I’ve done a lot of them, so I guess this is karma shitting itself all over my head. It’s the only way I can explain how I am stuck in the jungle with the hottest piece of ass in all of humanity.
Unfortunately that hot-ass woman is looking at me like I’m a freak—which I am—and that I could hurt her—which I could but have no intention of doing.