16. Diego

It was amazing what a warm fire, dry clothes, a bottle of water, and an MRE could do for a person's spirit. Roni and I emptied our bags, pulled out our wet clothing, and hung them on branches we propped up in the sand. In no time at all, the clothing dried, we ate, drank water, and were dressed in a layer of warm clothing. We smelled like the sea, but our clothing was warm. When we finally stopped moving for the day, Roni returned to sitting between my legs facing the fire. I wasn't sure what it said about us that she did so without being told or that I allowed her into my space so easily.

For the most part, she'd been silent since I broke our kiss. God, I wanted nothing more than to turn her over and fuck her next to the fire like a fucking caveman, grunts and all. But survival was so much more important than getting my dick wet. Especially when her survival was my job, and I wasn't supposed to mix business with pleasure—at least not with her. Her father made that very clear.

Still, I couldn't help it. Her body was a work of art. She wasn't a size zero like most celebrities—she was a healthy size, and the meat on her thighs probably helped keep her alive in the extreme temperatures last night.

"Everything okay?" I asked when the silence continued. The only sounds were the birds, the ocean, and the crackle of the fire.

She nodded. "Just thinking," she said after a delayed pause.

I chuckled. That much was obvious. "About?" I pressed curiously.

"Honestly, my thoughts are jumbled. I bounce from thinking about how far we might have to hike through the woods, to Nina, my parents, and then to you."

I understood most of those topics taking up headspace. A near-death experience could really put the mind through the ringer, stir up all kinds of thoughts. Add to the equation that the death of her best friend was what started this whole adventure, and it was only a matter of time before she was emotionally exhausted. I was worried that she might reach her snapping point soon. I knew how to help my best friends face their demons, but helping someone who was once so nasty to me was completely out of my comfort zone. On top of that, I was worried that this assignment was going to reignite my own traumatic thoughts—something I might have to warn her about sooner rather than later.

I failed to keep the new kid safe on his first assignment, and I wouldn't let the same fate fall upon Roni.

As if my thoughts finally caught up with the rest of Roni's words, I focused on the last one. You.

"Me?" That one had caught me off guard.

"Yeah. You." I could hear the nervousness in her voice, as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue with her train of thought.

I scooted a little closer to her. "What about me?"

"Just figuring out what to do about you." Now she was smirking; I could see the side of her cheek muscles rise, even though her perfect lips were hidden from me.

"Oh, this is going to be good." I couldn't help the laugh that slipped through my lips. I couldn't wait to hear what she decided to do about me. As if I were a problem to be fixed.

"Just trying to figure out if I want this, whatever's going on between us." I opened my mouth to interrupt her. There wasn't anything to decide; we couldn't be together—her father's rule, even if I decided I wanted her smart mouth. "No, don't interrupt me. What I'm trying to say might be a little difficult to admit. I've kept myself distant from most guys. Especially since my dad ran for his first office. I never know who is trying to use me to hurt him. So I never give them the chance. I still protect my father, even when I shouldn't have to—I'm the child, but I do nonetheless. I'm so worried about everyone else's intentions that I don't know that I've ever been in love." She scoffed, and her shoulders tensed beneath my hands.

"Diego, I'm thirty years old, I've had less than a handful of sexual partners, and I've never been in love. It's so sad it's almost pitiful. I know I'm not unattractive, so the problem isn't my appearance. It's who I am—who I'm related to. But you knew me before I was all of that, before my dad entered politics. And I've got a theory…" She chewed on her lip nervously. I was struck by the sight because she'd been a confident person since her school days. She'd had no qualms about trying to one-up me by answering a question first and then giving me the middle finger behind the teacher's back. Witnessing her lack of confidence now was a humbling experience.

She was right, though—that was a lot to admit, something that took courage. Now women were applauded for their sexual freedoms, unashamed of who they slept with or when. Yet she was ashamed because she couldn't be like them. What did that say about the expectations that women put on other women? That men put on women?

She had me curious about where she was taking this conversation. "Theory?"

"Our competitiveness…our rivalry. That was something else entirely, wasn't it? A mask for this chemistry, passion—whatever the hell you want to call it. We competed because that's how we held each other's attention, wasn't it?" She paused briefly. "You made sure I couldn't go a day without thinking about you, even if it wasn't in a lovey-dovey way. You wanted to stay in my thoughts, even if it was because I hated you…" Her eyes looked as turbulent as the ocean in front of us. They stared up at me mixed with a sense of quiet accusation—her lip was tucked under her teeth. Her chest rose and fell quicker.

Her words nearly choked me. It wasn't intentional, and I didn't know that I ever consciously knew that. But once she spoke those words, she made them true. That was what we did, two stupid kids who had no idea how to tell each other that we liked the other. My own body reacted in a traitorous way. My palms began to sweat, I felt breathless, and my blood rushed south. I was notorious for being cool, calm and collected—yet I felt anything but. I felt out of control at the realization that she was right. We weren't enemies, we were two kids who had issues with how others saw us, and neither of us were able to speak the truth: we had a crush.

What was it about Roni that did this to me?

Everything.

"For someone supposedly so smart, it took you a long time to see through me," I answered, unable to allow myself a moment of vulnerability. This moment felt like too much. I followed the words with what I hoped was a devilish grin, something she wouldn't see through. Did I do what she said on purpose? Absolutely not—but did I want her to know that?

Nope.

I continued to stare down at her—the longer I did, the harder it became to resist temptation. I was tasked with hiding her away, not with fucking her brains out. It didn't matter that we were literally beached and camping down for survival; I still wanted her. I wanted to take that smart mouth of hers and wanted to do dirty things to it—with it. Those hands that she'd used to try to show me up again and again—I wanted them wrapped around my cock and tugging on my hair. That fire she'd always spit at me, I wanted it to consume me. I wanted to back her up against a tree and hitch her leg up and take her.

As I stared down at her, I could tell she wanted the same thing. She wanted to finish what we started on the boat, and fuck if I didn't want to give her what she wanted.

I leaned forward and urgently placed my lips on hers, as if I blinked I might lose my opportunity. She responded immediately, melting under my touch, and her fingers snaked their way up to my head. They tangled in my hair and tugged hard. There's that passion.

Our tongues collided, and all I could taste was saltwater and her. I pulled her up into my lap, and she straddled my legs. Each one of her knees scraped the log I sat on, but she didn't seem to notice or care. She slid even closer until only our clothing separated us from what we really wanted.

"Are we really going to do this?" I asked, pulling away. I wanted her so bad, but I didn't want the President of the United States hating me. Could he strip me of my military honors for sleeping with his daughter?

"Yes. We. Are." Roni's words carried a lust so deep that I didn't question her any further. I'd jump right in and consequences be damned.

"Are you…"

She cut me off. "Yes, I'm protected. Shut up and show me what you've felt since we were kids," she demanded.

She ran her hands over my abs under my shirt as she reached for my belt. I felt what was left of my blood and my thoughts rush south. There would be no talking myself out of this now.

Her fingers quickly had my fly unbuttoned, and she lifted herself off me briefly to shimmy my pants down slightly. I grabbed the waistband of the jeans she wore and gave them a tug. They slid down her ass easily, giving me all the access I needed. I grabbed her hips and spun her so she faced the ocean and then leaned her back against my chest. I spread her legs wide using my knees, exposing her to the ocean. My fingers pulled her underwear to the side, and when my pointer finger touched her clit, she let out a soft moan. It was barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire, but it was there.

With determination, I worked her clit in soft circles, and with my other hand I reached forward and ran a finger further south. She was soaking wet for me. I slipped my middle finger into her, and she jerked in my arms. Her loud panting demanded my complete attention, and my lips found her neck. I gently grazed as I used both hands to work her, and I was rewarded by her squirming on my lap.

"Are you going to come?" I asked. My voice was deep and commanding, and she shivered when she heard it.

"Yes," she answered with a desperate moan.

"Good girl." I applied more pressure with my teeth against her neck and picked up the pace with my hands.

She let out a half-moan half-cry as her body tensed, and she clenched around my fingers. After a few seconds, her body turned to jelly in my arms as she came down from the post-orgasm high.

But I wasn't done with her. Not by a long shot.