Desert Island Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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“Yes.”

“I mean, you actually live here. Like for real.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?! It’s a freaking island in the middle of the ocean!”

I shove my head back between my legs and take a few more deep breaths, trying to keep myself together.

It doesn’t work.

I’m in pieces.

I’ll never have electricity again. I’ll never have a hot shower. A coffee.

Oh no! The coffee!!!

I’m clinging onto my legs, rocking back and forth when I suddenly feel strong warm arms wrap around me.

This is it.

He’s going to eat me and I don’t even care.

But Carson doesn’t strap me to a spit over the fire or try to shove me into a large pot of boiling water. He gently places me onto the nice soft hammock and slides a homemade pillow under my head.

It feels so good…

My eyelids get so heavy.

I fall asleep in seconds.

CHAPTER THREE

Carson

* * *

I can’t take my eyes off her.

Every time I look away for a few seconds, I think that I must have imagined her. Then, my eyes dart back to her calm beautiful face and my heart starts racing again. Disbelief fills me up that this goddess of the sea washed up on my beach, for me.

I poke around at the fire, pretending to work on it in case those gorgeous blue eyes suddenly open and she catches me staring at her.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen a woman, but that’s not it. That’s not why I’m so captivated by her presence, by her beauty. I would be just as stunned by this woman if I was walking down the busy sidewalk in New York City and she was passing in the opposite direction. My heart would be racing just the same. I would still be tingling all over just like I am right now.

The longer I stare at her, the deeper my obsession grows.

Those soft plump lips… they look so juicy. So delicious. I want to be able to taste them whenever I want. I’ve seen every vibrant color visible to the human eye in the rainforests on this island, but I’ve never seen such a tempting shade of pink. It’s hard to look away.

I drag my eyes over her hazel-colored hair that’s getting fuller and wavier as it dries and get an intense urge to run my fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. The warm breeze is tickling the ends, making it look like it’s dancing for me.

She’s utterly stunning. The slender curve of her neck, the adorable way her hands are tucked under her cheek, the way her legs are pulled up in a fetal position—her wide hip jutting into the air. I want to see every inch of her. I want to feel and taste every inch of her.

I want her to be mine. I need it. Desperately.

It’s been eight long years on this island with nothing but my ‘friend’ Wayne for company. I’ve been alone all of this time, but one day I found a red dodgeball that washed up on the surf. I have no idea where it came from. It might have crossed the entire ocean for all I know.

But I took it, drew a face on it with the Sharpie I had in my pocket when my yacht sunk and I was thrown overboard, and Wayne was born.

It was a joke at first. An ode to Wilson from the movie Castaway, but after months of loneliness, it became real.

Loneliness is a hell of a thing to deal with for years, but Wayne made it a bit more bearable. I talked to him all the time. I hoped that I wasn’t losing my mind, but since he never answered, it gave me hope that I wasn’t full-on insane.

I never thought that I could go on without Wayne, but once I caught a glimpse of Bridget’s gorgeous face and luscious curves, I knew I didn’t need him anymore.

I had all I would ever need now.

Her.

My girl. My soulmate. My soon-to-be lover.

With her in my life, I didn’t need a pretend friend any longer, so I kicked him into the rainforest below, thrilled to have someone who would actually answer me back.

She makes a soft little moaning sound as she turns around and curls up on the hammock. My pulse starts racing when I see her beautiful curvy ass in those shorts. The bottom of her collared work shirt rises an inch or two over her waist and a long strip of the softest looking skin I’ve ever seen is suddenly visible to my ravenous eyes.

She’s so damn sexy. My cock hardens on the spot as I watch her, excited to fast forward to the point where she’ll ditch those uncomfortable clothes and I can curl up onto the hammock with her and touch her wherever I’d like.



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