CHAPTER 8 GABRIELLA
GAbrIELLA
The first campsite they set up was cramped, with a small river flowing to the right.
The second was hardly any bigger, and night was coming closer again after nearly twelve hours of traveling.
They broke up into different camp sites when they realized the issues with the terrain, leaving Mateo to fend with Gabriella on a smaller site off to the side.
José grumbled about something that Gabriella couldn’t understand, and she was grateful when he stormed off.
She presumed he was going to bark orders at somebody somewhere.
From her vantage point in the jeep, she saw Mateo was efficient in setting up his tent.
Muscles dancing against the rhythm of assembling and building their temporary haven.
It made her heart speed up and legs press together in an embarrassing way.
Time passed until, eventually, he came over to untie her.
By this point, she was beyond tired and her muscles cramped from the long hours of sitting.
She also noted how badly she had to pee, but a stubborn side of her refused to give him the luxury of hearing her beg.
Not to mention, old habits were still hard to stop, when she knew she could be seen as an inconvenience.
“Always a fucking issue with you. Why can’t you wait until we get home?” Her ex-husband’s mocking words filtered through. She hated that she still thought of him occasionally.
Mateo put his hand out for her. “Come on Gabriella.”
She tried to step down, only to fall straight into his firm tawny chest. Well, point one for idiocy, she admitted as she felt the flush rise from her cheeks down her neck. Why is he so fit? She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all.
And all through her mental gymnastics, Mateo held her gently, hand splayed on her lower back, with the other now caressing the back of her neck.
His firm grip awakened a fire so deep and dark, she nearly groaned.
Despite her full bladder, her body responded, nipples taut against her sweat-soaked clothes, clit tingling from denial, and her body shuddered.
Mateo’s grip on her back tightened as his words tickled her ear. “Easy, tica.” Mateo’s voice was low and comforting, but she felt his body tense in an assertion of power. “I might start to think you like me with how you’re acting.” `Even when he whispered, his voice was sexy.
She felt the hard lines of him against her soft ones and with a subtle hint, his hips pressed against hers in a way that made her stomach flutter. Heat pooled between her legs, reminding her again of the insistent need to pee but also of the arousal gathering.
Pretty sure this is a kink thing, but I doubt Mateo is into that. She laughed into the gag which seemed to raise Mateo's interest.
“Something funny?” he asked from above her.
She felt his breath tickling the hairs on top of her head.
She glanced up, noting the slight tilt of his lip as he raised a brow to her.
The fading sunlight turned his eyes into molten copper, his skin brandishing under the light.
He was so close to her, his arms gently tensing as if trying to decide to pull her in or push her away.
He's nothing like Justin, she thought. Where her ex was cruel, Mateo had been nothing short of kind, which was an odd quality for an international poacher. She didn't think she would ever compare them again.
She shook her head.
“Let's take this off then.” He helped her remove the gag and rope. His fingers were light and deft, leaving trails of warmth as he untied the last of the rope. “Better, see?”
She inhaled a deep breath, his scent filling her lungs in a way that made her lightheaded. Neither of them moved. He stayed just as close with his hips pressed against hers, the unmistakable length of him now pressing between them as his arms seeped with the warmth of him, encasing her in comfort.
“We need to pull away from each other,” he said easily, his tone taking on a hint of mirth. “Need me to count to three?”
“I think I preferred you when you were the easy going tour guide Mateo. This cocky version of you is exhausting,” she admitted, though she couldn’t stop the way her mouth twitched.
“Both versions of me are true. You’ll learn that eventually. Come on.”
“So demanding,” she groused as they separated.
Speaking reminded her of how arid her throat felt, as if she’d swallowed sand.
She already felt humiliated enough that he had to help her walk with her legs numb and stumbling.
Now, after his big villain reveal, she was questioning her body’s reaction to his proximity.
“Just kill me Mateo. The turtles will understand.”
“And miss out on our illuminating exchanges? Never.” He chuckled, his chest brushing her back.
She desperately wanted to lean back into him. She tried to reason that it was because she still felt weak, as was evident by how badly her body trembled.
Maybe you are a masochist who likes being treated poorly?
She groaned when they reached the wooden stump and made no effort to sit. She tried to look around the stump, pressing a mud covered shoe on the foliage to startle anything that might be living nearby.
He pressed a light touch to her back, unaware possibly of how constantly he was touching her.
“What’s wrong? Why won't you sit down?” Mateo was so close behind her, she felt his heat and soaked it in like a starving man to a feast. How long had it been since she had been touched, and as often as this?
Too long, her body reminded her.
She deflected. “I’m afraid of bugs which means I’m standing in the middle of the jungle, worried about bullet ants.” Her voice, unused for so long, cracked at the confession. “I hate to ask but did you check to make sure there are none?”
His eyes widened at her admission before his brows creased with acknowledgement. “I checked before I got you. It should be fine” Mateo tried to steer her down gently with his hand on her lower back, and she shook her head adamantly.
“I-I can’t,” she stammered, the flush rising to her face, feeling the pressure of her bladder rise in urgency.
She looked around frantically before looking back at him.
“I can’t believe I have to say this …” She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I need to use the restroom,” she admitted.
Yep, kill me now. Her bravado was gone.
Mateo’s hand twitched behind her, his grip sending heat throughout her body. “Oh,” he said, his tone clearly broadcasting he was expecting something else. “Gabriella, it’s really nothing to be ashamed about. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you, the words echoed between them.
His touch, still on her, felt possessive in a way that made her toes curl.
This was warm and safe. God, even now, they still managed to joke with each other despite the precarious circumstances.
What did it matter that she just admitted a basic bodily function?
“Wait here. I’ll find you a spot.” His voice was steady and nonjudgemental.
He left her alone, but she heard his rough steps through the foliage despite the rising noise of the evening bugs rising with the setting sun. As if to further the embarrassment, her stomach let off a loud rumble. Grateful Mateo was not nearby, she wrapped her arms around herself.
She was sweating, achy, and exhausted. Her head was beginning to hurt, and she felt small tremors in her legs.
Classic signs of dehydration and fatigue.
While Mateo had been careful with her, the traveling group had not stopped for a break, nor water.
It was a testament to their stamina, something Gabriella clearly lacked right now.
By the time Mateo returned, she had debated simply peeing on herself and using the excuse she saw a howler monkey who was ready to eat her. Yes, a little dramatic but she was beyond miserable at this point.
But when he stepped back to their site, his cotton shirt sweat-soaked and somehow torn to reveal his tatted dark-toned muscles, her mouth went dry. She forgot all of her aches except for the one between her legs.
Traitorous body, she chided herself. You’re dehydrating yourself more with this.
It didn’t stop her eyes from roaming appreciatively. She swayed a little when Mateo reached her. He must have sensed how weak she was, stepping closer to offer his body as support. “Do you need help?” Mateo’s eyes were on her, dark gaze roaming over her from top to bottom. “I can carry you.”
Yes please! One part of her screamed. Abort abort! The more logical part said. Her spine straightened. “I’d rather you not touch me. I’m fine. I can walk.”
He touches you so much, it's hard to think straight, but she would never admit that to him.
Mateo studied her for a long moment, jaw flexing as if he were weighing more than the terrain. “Gabriella,” he said. He sounded stern, using her name like a warning.
“I said no.” Her words came out firmer this time, though her voice shook.
He exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled despite the tiniest flare of his nostrils. “And if you fall down again? Like earlier? Will you trust me to pick you up then?”
Something knotted between her ribs. That word, trust, felt like a knife.
She didn’t even bother to stifle the bark of laughter.
“Says the abductor. ” Her patience finally snapped.
“Did you think a few sorry’s would fix everything between us?
Sing to the choir Mateo. Justin tried doing that and I kicked his ass to the curb. ”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. They were going tit for tat and Gabriella had to admit, it was straining but exhilarating. She knew he could clearly tell how angry she was, and he was soaking each blow as if she was pounding into the ebony Tortuguero sands.