17. Roni

"Good girl." His praise was mixed with a growl that sent me over the edge. Truth be told, I was riding that edge for a long time, not wanting the ecstasy he created to end. I'd never been this turned on or felt as attractive as when he played with me. His expert hands were only comparable to Mozart and his piano or Michelangelo and marble. I felt like a work of art.

His heavy breaths filled my ears as I relaxed against his chest.

"Did you think we were done?" His chest vibrated beneath me. His hands grabbed my hips and spun me around again. I faced him and saw the primal need reflected there, and just like that, I was a blank canvas, ready for him to make art again.

He stroked himself with his right hand, but I quickly batted it away and replaced it with my own hand. His eyes closed in pleasure as my fingers closed around his length, and I slowly worked my hand up and down. His head tipped back with a groan, and I placed my lips on his throat and licked the salty skin there.

"I want you inside of me," I whispered.

He raised his head and pinned me with a heated look. "Your wish is my command." I didn't even recognize his voice. He seemed like a completely different Diego—but I liked the new version. A lot.

He slid his hands under my ass and lifted me up. I used my hand to guide his girthy dick to exactly where I needed it. He was packing, and I knew that I was going to be in for a bit of pain before it got better. But once it passed, God was he going to feel so fucking good.

He lowered me down slowly, and my back arched at the feeling of being stretched so wide. When he was fully seated inside of me, he grunted, and I leaned forward with my forehead against his shoulder, breathing hard. His fingers laced themselves into my hair and pulled my head back so he could look into my eyes. I could practically see his thoughts, how much he'd wanted this, and what he'd do to make this worth the years of verbal foreplay.

His lips pressed to mine, and then I opened myself to him. His tongue met mine at the same moment he shifted his hips, forcing himself even deeper. I swallowed his groan, and his fingers left my hair. His hands planted themselves on my waist and gripped hard. He used them to roll my hips, guiding me to the pace he wanted. It started off slow, but in no time they were rolling in record speed as he sat on the edge of the log, thrusting up into me.

"Come for me," he demanded. Again the carnal need in his voice did something to me that had me shuddering. I bit down on his shoulder to stop the intense scream that wanted to force its way up my throat as I clenched around him. His thrusts were erratic and deep. His grunts filled the space around us until finally they stopped all together. The sounds of our heavy breathing filled the air as his cock still filled me.

He gripped my hips tight again and stood, then placed me on the log he'd been sitting on. He stepped back, and I felt empty with him no longer inside of me. He went to his bag and dug through until he landed on a pack of Wet Wipes. "You never know when you might need to get clean or why." He chuckled as he took one and handed me the pack.

When the evidence of what we'd just done was gone, we returned to the fire. The heat and passion from earlier faded, but an easy understanding remained. I silently placed more wood on the fire as he started to set up the tent.

I watched the smoke dance and disappear above my head and wondered how long this was going to last. Did we have days before the group was caught? Months? Years? Surely I'd be out of danger when my father left office, right? So what, two years max?

A lot could happen in two years.

It bothered me how little I knew about the group that wanted me so badly. "What do you know about the Geneva Project?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He sighed as he zipped up the finished tent. "Not nearly as much as I'd like to. They're up and coming, only been around for a decade or so… All I know is what's in their manifesto. They are hardcore anti-government and such. It's ironic they are petitioning to be a recognized political party and to be on the election ballot next election. They've recruited, fundraised, and somehow developed a mercenary force. It's—"

"Unreal," I cut him off.

He nodded. "Yeah. Normally, I've got my friends to kick these thoughts around with. My buddy Guy is a good hacker, and he'd be able to piece together a lot more than I have. They have no idea what's going on, which is…unfortunate. I'm sure they'd have been a lot of help."

It was my turn to sigh. "Dad made you sign a confidentiality agreement, didn't he?"

I didn't need his nod as conformation; I could see it in the defeated slouch of his shoulders. "It feels like being out of the fight. Keeping you safe is important, but I hate leaving them out of this."

I felt sympathy for him. I didn't have many friends, and losing Nina was still very fresh. I wanted nothing more than to be able to call her when this whole experience was over and tell her about all I'd endured, but I couldn't. I understood his desire to bring his friends into the fold. I didn't see any harm in bringing them in, especially if his friends were capable of helping us and my dad out of this mess in the first place.

"Can I see your phone?" I asked.

"Why?" His eyebrows knit together.

"Just trust me." I stared him down, hoping he'd do just that. He'd be happy with the end result.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his phone from his bag and handed it to me. I turned it on and immediately found the friend we spoke with only a couple of nights ago; he was still at the top of his recent calls. Before Diego could stop me, I fired off a text.

This is Roni. Look into the Geneva Project. Diego says you guys may be able to help us. We're in hiding until this group is arrested.

I quickly turned off the phone and handed it back to Diego. He stared at me as if I grew a third eye in the middle of my forehead.

"What did you just do?"

"Getting us out of this mess. If you think your friends can help, then I trust them—even if you aren't allowed to bring them into the fold. I did." I shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Yeah…that's a nice thought and all, Roni. But texts can be tracked." He let out a loud sigh. "We need to keep moving now."

He began hastily breaking down the tent as I stood there dumbfounded. "But the fire…and camp is already set up…" I looked around the camp—I didn't want to leave it. Not now, anyways.

"We can set up camp elsewhere." He stood up with a frustrated huff. "Did you forget what we just went through? These people will stop at nothing to find you. I only kept this phone for emergencies. It's off for a reason—now it's going to be used to lead the Geneva assholes right to us, unless we get going." He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were a lot smarter than that. This is such a classic you move."

"Me move?" I questioned. I felt my eyebrow raise in quiet fury.

His words wounded me. I was very smart, and he knew that. But hell, I'd never been in a situation like this before, and what would playing it safe do? Extend our camping trip? If his friends were as good as he thought they were, then maybe they'd take down the Geneva Project and Nina would get justice. If they could work the same magic they did to bring down those trafficking rings or stop a whole terror organization, then maybe I'd be home in a matter of days. Hiking to a new spot would be worth it. He'd appreciate the chance I took if he was only stuck with me for a few days or weeks…not months or years.

I could only imagine what it would be like to spend years camped out with him. Frustrating, overwhelming, cold. Either way, he didn't have to be insulting. Classic you move, as if I was incapable of getting anything right. I could name a few things I'd done right since being casted into the middle of the wilderness. He was the one who fucked up by picking a shady boat captain to transport us. If anyone was to blame for our current situation, it was him. I knew how my father worked, and I knew how to get around his loopholes. I wasn't wrong, and there was nothing Diego could say to change my mind about that.

"Yeah, well, let's call it even. You picked the captain, and while you signed a contract, you don't know my dad. I do. I know him, I know what he'll pursue, and I know how to manage him. So excuse me if I did what was in my power to give us an advantage. Your friends can help, so let them." I was seething, practically yelling the words. Meanwhile, Diego stood there watching, listening, with his fists balled.

He shook his head and then straightened his hands and shoved them into his hair. "You are infuriating. This is ridiculous!" He swallowed hard. "I'm not going to do this with you right now. Pack up your shit. We need to get going." He turned his back on me, and we moved back to the tent he'd just set up, and he began breaking it down. By the time I was finished stuffing my supplies back into my bags, Diego had the camp broken up. Even the hot coals of the fire had been covered by sand.

I pulled my bag on my shoulders and brought my other bag over my head. I angrily started marching to my right.

"Wrong way!" Diego called when I was almost out of his sight. I let out an annoyed huff as I turned around to look at him. He gave a satisfied smirk when I raised my eyebrow in an unspoken question. Which is the right way?

He pointed with a barely suppressed, self-righteous arrogance. I marched past him in a cloud of annoyance and frustration. I took matters into my own hands because his were tied; it was literally part of my law education. Find the loophole and then use it. But instead of recognizing my actions for what they were, an out to get exactly what he expressed he wanted, he wanted to get angry. If I were in his shoes, I would have been ecstatic. I guess that was the difference between us and always would be. He was the goody two shoes disguised as a big handsome hero. And I was the spoiled princess who was punished for being anything but pretty and easygoing.

I thought he and I were past insults and judging each other. I thought we'd both shed the shell of the idiots we used to be in high school. We'd be able to work together and be on the same team for once. I mean, I let him stick his dick in me, for fuck's sake. I thought this whole almost-dying thing would have put to bed the issues and immaturities of the past, but I guess not.

I guess he was exactly the same, but he only showed his true colors to me.