Chapter 6
Reid McKinley
Even when I thought Max was being obvious in his brooding and grumbling, he could fool most people into thinking shit was fine. With Sam being one exception.
That observant motherfucker followed me down to the water when I went to rinse out my coffee mug.
“So is Max really all right?” he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder, making sure we were alone.
The sun was dipping behind the clouds that rested on the horizon, painting the darkening sky red and purple.
Max wasn’t all right. Not at the moment. But he would be. I’d had the day to find my confidence.
I straightened again and wiped the mug off on my shorts. “He will be before the night is over.” I cleared my throat and figured…Sam was safe. “He’s the one I’m hunting tonight.”
He lifted his brows, clearly surprised. “You mean beyond…I don’t know—beyond playtime?”
I inclined my head.
I was gonna do it. I was gonna go for it.
“Well, damn,” Sam said.
Yeah.
“I just have to make sure he stays in place after I’ve caught him,” I finished.
He smirked faintly and clapped me on the shoulder. “ABDT, we used to say at my old job. Always Bring Duct Tape. Go get him.”
I grinned. That’d be something, wouldn’t it? Duct-taping Max to a tree, to a bed, to the boat…wherever, to ensure he stayed with me.
If today had shown me anything, it was that Max wasn’t comfortable with casual fun. I’d gotten into his head. He was worried, he had questions, and he didn’t feel he could talk about it. I could only think of one reason—he was scared to lose what we had.
Max Jensen was the world’s biggest overthinker—but only for serious shit. He could get down with zero strings attached any day of the week; he could be spontaneous and reckless for fun. Until potential consequences threatened something he genuinely cared about.
He hadn’t been spontaneous or reckless today. He hadn’t jumped all in at the chance of exploring a fantasy, which he would have if this were only a fantasy.
“Are we gonna do this or what?!” Trey hollered up the beach.
Sam looked over there, just as I did. “Are we in a rush?” he yelled back.
“Yes!” the brats responded in unison. “It’s gonna be dark soon!”
And?
The dark was fun. In the dark, we let the fears run wild.
In the end, Sam, Rome, and LC took charge—right around the time Max returned from “taking a leak.” He wouldn’t make eye contact, so I let the anticipation build, and I took a couple deep breaths and absently cracked my knuckles.
The others were busy reminding the boys about safety once more, and I tuned them out.
I wasn’t here for them. For any of them.
Just that man over there, standing by the tree line, staring into the fire.
It had to be us. The combination of having one of those periods when I couldn’t suppress what I was feeling for him…and this trip—this particular trip, where we’d gone further than any other time before…and our phone conversation before the trip…yeah, I couldn’t fight this any longer.
I wasn’t nice enough to say all-or-nothing either, because “nothing” wasn’t on the table.
It wasn’t an option. This had to happen.
I felt the urgency and determination swell rapidly as the guys droned on.
The boys swore they’d safeword if needed, which wasn’t exactly a worry.
We went way back. But Daddies had that extra worry gene in their DNA.
“And now the sun is completely gone!” Cas pointed toward the horizon. “Let’s go!”
Sam didn’t miss a beat. “So fucking run,” he growled.
“Eeep!” The boys yelped and hightailed it up and down the beach. Only two dared to sprint right into the jungle.
I grinned and let the adrenaline buzz through me.
We always gave the boys a two-minute head start, and I let Max decide how he wanted to begin. If he wanted to run now or later. I was good with both. This was our little game.
“I’m definitely gonna need assistance with my two,” Rome drawled.
Yeah, no kidding. Max and I had helped him plenty in the past. Just not this time. Someone else would have to assist him in catching Cas and Trey.
Sam smirked. “Happy to help.”
I patted my pockets, double-checking so I had everything. Folding knife, first aid, glowstick, eight-ounce bottle of water, flashlight—
“Where did Max go? It hasn’t been two minutes yet.”
I snapped my head up and scanned my immediate surroundings, and sure enough, Max was nowhere to be seen.
You sneaky fucker.
He couldn’t have gone in any direction other than backward, right into the jungle. He’d been standing by the tree line.
Sam covered for me, joking things off as Max playing dirty to catch a brat faster, which worked for the others. Those damn brats were always trying to skirt the rules anyway.
“I’ll go see what he’s up to.” I didn’t wait for a response. I picked up my shoes on the way and walked along the tree line to utilize the last daylight in an attempt to find a route. But the vegetation was too thick, without any hints of trails.
When I looked back toward the fire, the others were off too. Time was up. We were on the hunt.
It wouldn’t be long before we heard the first screams.
A familiar excitement rolled through me like a summer storm, but it was different.
Something about it wasn’t so familiar after all, because this was Max.
For as well as I knew him, I’d never studied him from the perspective of a predator.
I couldn’t predict his next move. I couldn’t goad him like I would with a brat. He’d see right through that.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” LC yelled up the beach.
I squinted into the dark, certain I saw something rustling and whooshing by, but whatever it was…it wasn’t Max. He couldn’t run that quickly so close to the ground. My guess? Cas. He was about two shits high and disturbingly fast.
Rounding a few boulders, I realized I was more tense than normal, and I guessed that wasn’t weird.
This was uncharted territory, and it excited me more than I could describe.
Hell, I’d been damn near bored the last couple of years because I was a magnet for brats and masochists.
They were certainly fun at times, just…a bit too predictable for my tastes in the long run.
Max wasn’t a brat or a cookie-cutter masochist, though.
I kept walking, not sure he’d even be on this side of the island, except…something told me he might have eyes on me. Fuck, did he?
I stopped short and stared into the nothingness, and for a quick second, I felt like the prey. Like the tables had turned.
Defeating Max wasn’t gonna be easy. He was strong and agile, almost as tall as me, and he’d been around for a while. He had fewer buttons to push.
My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, but I received more help from the moon. The clouds parted and let the moon cast the island in a pale blue glow.
“Nooo! Help me!” someone screamed far away. “Stop it, you dummy!”
I couldn’t stay out here any longer.
I put on my shoes and tied them tightly, and then it was time to go in there. Out here, I was too exposed.
Stepping between two ferns, I ducked lower when I heard someone running nearby. Quick footfalls, heavy panting, a few curses—it sounded like someone young.
Then I stayed put and looked around me until I was absolutely certain I was alone. I caught no movement nearby, no sounds that didn’t belong here. He couldn’t know where I was, could he?
I started walking back toward our campsite, slowly, carefully, all senses heightened. I sidestepped to avoid big rocks and bushes, and I crouched to prevent being slapped in the face by the vegetation from above. Everything was wetter in the forest, and the place was alive.
Maybe I should’ve put on a tee.
Movement caught my eye, and I whipped my head sideways to see a form out on the beach. He moved cautiously along the tree line, and I hid behind a boulder.
My heart began pounding.
Was it him? The silhouette was familiar.
I poked my head out and looked between two palm trees.
Whoever it was, he was trying to find someone in the jungle. He walked close without entering, and he was about ten feet away.
It had to be him.
“Where the fuck did you go?” he snapped under his breath.
I grinned. It was him. He’d been watching me.
Something trickled down my neck, sweat or water dripping from the trees, maybe a combination of both, and that tiny thing did something to me.
It made me wanna get filthy. Mud, sweat, blood, sand, humidity, twigs—I wanted to feel all of it.
I wanted the saltiness of the ocean on my tongue and scratches from the forest all over my body.
But more than that, fingerprints and bitemarks. Bruises and cuts.
“You lookin’ for me, darlin’?” I asked.
He shot up and stiffened, and before he could react further—hell, before I could make a conscious decision—I bolted into action.
I pushed away from the boulder, darted out of the jungle, and flew at him.
With that split-second decision, I’d made up my mind.
Topple him over in the sand, not the forest floor, where more things could cause harm.
Max crouched and braced himself for impact the second before I reached him, but it wasn’t enough.
I rammed into him and sent us both to the sand, and he let out a gritty oomph.
Adrenaline pumped through me, and my mind was wiped clean, aside from one single goal.
Bury my cock so far up his ass he’d taste me.
His shock was clear, though it quickly morphed into fury. “Jesus Christ—slow your fucking roll,” he growled.
“What did you expect, dinner and drinks first?” I grunted and took a punch to my side as I tried to roll him over.
Fuck, that hurt.
New strategy—don’t attack from the front. He could ward me off too easily.
He shoved me off him, and I landed next to him in the sand. But when he scrambled to his feet in an attempt to escape, I reached out and grabbed his ankle. He went down again, and I gnashed my teeth and crawled over him.
“Motherfucker!” he groaned.