He tilts his head back against the tree. “In a different world, I would have been enamored with you.”

I roll my eyes. “Because I’m a dancer?”

“Because you’re just so. . .bright. You’ve been kidnapped to an island and hunted like a literal animal, and you still have the energy to flip off every camera you find for good measure. I envy you.”

I glance at him sharply. “You envy me? With all that money at your disposal?”

“Money isn’t everything,” he replies.

“That’s something only rich people say.”

I’m rewarded with his soft laughter. “I suppose you’re right.”

We fall into silence again, listening to the sounds of the stream moving, listening to the birds. We both check for others, making sure we won’t be ambushed as we sit here, and when I glance around the tree, it’s to find Creed standing in the distance, his back turned as he picks up wood for the fire. Slowly. As if he’s checking the surroundings for me rather than actually gathering wood.

Grinning at the sexy big oaf, I rise up on my knees suddenly and straddle Row’s waist where he sits. He holds his hands up, his eyes going wide, as I brace myself with his shoulders.

“Uh, what’s happening?” he asks, staring up at me, but I can feel his cock stir beneath me.

“You’re bummed out because you’re a Hound now. I get it. But how about a little fun?” I lean down and whisper in his ear. “Would the Hound like to fuck the Rabbit?”

His hands come down on my waist gently, reverently. “Is this a trick?” he rasps. “You going to stab me the moment my guard is down?”

“Maybe,” I tease. “Guess it’ll be a surprise. What do you say?”

Blinking up at me, I think for a moment he’s going to decline before he reaches between us and unbuttons and unzips his pants. Whatever hesitation he had, he throws it away and looks at me like I’m some goddess asking for his loyalty. “Let’s do this.”

He spears his hands beneath my shirt and cups my breasts, immediately rolling my nipples between his fingers before pressing his lips to my neck and sucking. I moan, throwing my head back at the expert way he strokes me, at the way he immediately lets me take control. He doesn’t force himself on me. Instead, he gently lets me move around and simply holds on for dear life.

I grab a handful of his hair and jerk him up from my neck before kissing him roughly, drawing a sexy moan from his lips. He’s vocal about what I’m doing to him and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on. More men should moan. It’s fucking hot as hell.

“Take the fucking pants off,” he rasps against my lips. “I want to touch you.”