The Flyboy's Temptation

“Not a thing. I mean, I can heat up TV dinners, but for the most part I eat at the office cafeteria. They make a mean mac and cheese. It almost tastes like real cheese.”

He grimaced. “That sounds disgusting.”

She shrugged. “Food is fuel.”

“No, food is more than fuel. Good food is like an orgasm for your mouth.”

Hope gasped and blushed, immediately flustered. “Well, I don’t look at it that way. Besides, I don’t have time for...orgasmic food experiences.”

J.T. liked seeing Hope blush. The sudden pinkening of her cheeks softened her face and made him think of other things that might make her blush.

He sighed dramatically. “That’s a pity. You’re missing out.” And he left it at that with a slightly crooked grin.

The rain lightened to a steady drizzle as night fell. The jungle sounds seemed to amplify, and a sudden howling and screeching nearly startled Hope out of her chair.

“Probably howler monkey,” he supplied to calm her nerves. “Harmless, but loud.” But to be on the safe side, J.T. pulled in the water canister, closed the pocket door and latched it for the evening.

He took a swig and offered Hope the canister, which she accepted. After they’d drunk about half, he screwed the top back on and placed it in a safe spot, away from their feet, then closed his eyes.

“Are you going to sleep?” she asked.

“Sounded like a good idea.”

“Okay.”

He shot a quick glance at Hope as she tried to get comfortable in the leather chair. The plane wasn’t in bad shape considering it’d dropped out of the sky and skidded to a stop on the jungle floor. They were lucky the cabin hadn’t been ripped to pieces.

Again, there was that luck factor.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a bitch.”

“That sounds promising,” she grumbled.

He smiled grimly and closed his eyes.

Darling, you have no idea.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Hope awoke ravenous with a full to bursting bladder. She maneuvered around J.T., who was still sleeping, mouth open slightly and gently snoring, to relieve herself and prayed fervently as she squatted that a snake would not think her derriere was a good place to sink its fangs.

Finished, she returned to the plane to find J.T. doing the same, only he hadn’t felt the need to hide behind a tree.

She shouldn’t stare.

But J.T. had the kind of body that females noticed—even if they were doing their best to ignore every muscled inch.

Hand bracing himself against the plane, pants slung low on his hips, he groaned with relief as he pissed on the ground.

Hope had just enough time to whirl around before J.T. turned and saw her gawking at his body.

“Oh, hey, sorry, I thought I could finish before you returned.” He zipped and said, “All clear. No worries about seeing anything that might frighten you. I remember what you said about snakes.”

Hope turned and faked a smile at his joke. “Very funny. As long as your snake doesn’t bite, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

J.T. guffawed and rubbed at the stubble on his beard. “Well, at least the rain has stopped, right? Gotta be thankful for small favors.”

True enough, but even as she was anxious to get moving, she knew the trip wasn’t going to be easy.

“Right. Let’s eat our rations and pack up. I want to use as much daylight as we can before we have to stop and make camp.” She rummaged in her pack and pulled out the last protein bar, breaking it in half so they could share it as they had before. “Bon appétit.”

Hope made sure to really savor each pseudochocolaty bite in the hopes that her stomach realized it would have to go without for the rest of the day unless they happened upon a burger joint in the middle of the jungle that allowed you to pay with a credit card.

Within moments they were finished with their woefully inadequate breakfast/lunch/dinner ration and began to pack, but Hope had to keep stopping when the torn sleeves of her blouse kept snagging and getting in the way. “This stupid shirt...” she grumbled, wishing she’d chosen something more practical for the trip.

J.T. surprised her when he stepped over and ripped the sleeves plain off, untucked the blouse from her tattered skirt and tied the front in a knot tightly around her waist. “There, that ought to help,” he said, grinning. “And it looks better, too.”

Hope gaped, unable to believe what he’d just done. She glanced down at her ruined shirt and realized he was right. At least it wasn’t going to get caught on branches now. Although she wasn’t entirely comfortable with how much skin was showing, J.T. seemed fine with it.

Ahem, he seemed more than fine with it if the appreciative glimmer in his eyes told the truth.

“Thank you,” she murmured, shouldering her pack and hoisting it higher on her back and tightening the straps.

The low buzz of an approaching aircraft caught their attention and Hope immediately started waving frantically to catch the pilot’s attention. J.T. yelled, “Get down!” and tackled her to the ground to hide in the foliage.

“What are you doing?” she screeched, unable to believe he’d just submarined a possible way out of the jungle. “That could be our rescue plane!”

“I can guarantee that is not a rescue plane,” he growled, holding her tight. “Remember how I said there were guerrillas in this jungle? Well, they use ultralight aircraft to patrol their territory, such as that Cessna that just flew overhead. Chances are they saw the plane down, which means they’re going to circle back around for a better look. We gotta get out of here, now.”

A flutter of alarm traveled her spinal cord. “What if they saw me?”

“Let’s not hang around and find out,” he said, letting her go as they climbed to their feet. The sound of the aircraft returning put their feet into sudden motion as they ran into the jungle, trying to lose themselves within the dense canopy.

Branches scraped her face and thick tree roots tripped her more than once as they ran like bats out of hell until they could no longer hear the plane, but by that point they were so deep in the jungle Hope was terrified that they’d gone from the frying pan to the fire.

Breathing hard, sweat running down their faces, they stopped to catch their breath as they regrouped.

“Do you think they saw us?” she asked when she could speak again.

“No way to know,” he answered grimly, and drew a deep breath. “But we gotta keep moving.”

“But we don’t even know where we’re going!” she protested. “We could be heading in the wrong direction.”

“We’ll follow the river. At least we’ll have access to drinking water.”

“But you said the river would take us over a cliff,” she reminded him anxiously.

“I guess we’ll just have to be careful.”