Jesse gripped her armrest digging her nails into the gray leather until she was sure they were going to break. The plane was going down and she wasn't going to live through it. Her mind flashed scenes of her life, her sister sitting with her last Christmas, melted chocolate on her upturned nose, her dog Berry bouncing across the yard in his prime, before she'd made the heart wrenching decision to put him to sleep. Her daddy holding her hand as he told her he loved her and quietly passed away from a twenty-six year fight with MS. Her mother's long red hair falling over her shoulder as she laughed at something Jesse's uncle said. So many great times passed before her minds eye as she felt the descent of the plane hasten.
The pilot was silent now, she didn't know why, but she had the distinct feeling that he was already dead, the sense of dread heightening her need to survive. Self-preservation was sending adrenaline pumping through her veins and giving her the itch to jump from the small ten-person plane. Thinking quickly she reached for the controls, pushing the pilot out of her way. She pulled back with all her strength, nearly weeping when the little aircraft leveled out, the nose still aiming for the lush treetops, but not at such a deadly angle. She wouldn't allow herself to think about anything but landing, the moments after she hit ground too much for her to handle.
She steeled herself for the impact and felt metal grind against earth, glass shards shattering around her, the force of the crash throwing her into the leather seat behind her, ultimately protecting her from everything that came through the unguarded windshields. And then silence prevailed, as the shifting wreck settled, like a great beast breathing its last labored breath. She sat up, her heart thundering against her chest and she slipped two fingers to the pilot's throat. She found no pulse and withdrew her hand, sending up a prayer for his soul. Tears stung her eyes and she felt the hormones receding, and in their wake was nothing but a pressing blackness that called her into blessed oblivion.
When she woke next the sun was low in the sky. It had been almost dark when the planes small engine had cut out, so she guessed she'd been out for almost a night and most of the day. Gingerly she shifted so she could look out the broken window at her surroundings. They'd been over the Amazon Rainforest last she'd known and it looked like she was smack in the middle of it. Tropical heat pressed down on her, the humidity nearly choking her as she struggled to stand up, her legs stiff and her back tight enough to rival a coiled spring. It was then she saw a tall dark figure outside, walking low and looking inside. The small door, wrenched from its damaged hinges, groaned, and a face appeared along with a clean-shaven head and Jessie collapsed with relief, her brain refusing to make sense of anything anymore. So when a giant hand reached for her, she grasped it like it was her last link to sanity and held on tight. Little did she know she was in for the adventure of a life time, and it was in this hot steamy place she would find what she didn't even know she'd been looking for.
They'd been hiking in thick forest for hours, not that she wasn't grateful for him taking her with him. It was much preferred to him leaving her at the wreckage. Jessie glanced at her watch again for the hundredth time and sighed inwardly. Jack, the walking wall of muscle in front of her, had told her that she was in a different time zone and that her watch wouldn't work, but he had conveniently forgotten to tell her which one and what to set her little waterproof wristwatch to. Now all the good it did her was to tell her that they'd been walking, (make that he was walking, she was stumbling all over the place,) for nearly ten hours. Not that she was going to complain. She was a born and raised Iowa girl, brought up on a working farm. She was as tough as the next plane wreck survivor and she would make it through this without sounding like some city ninny. She had some self respect after all.
Then her stomach growled low and needy, so much for maintaining that tough girl image.
"Traitor." She mumbled the word low in her throat and hoped her crashing around had disguised the sound of her hunger. She hadn't eaten in nearly thirty-six hours and it was beginning to have an effect on her. Jack didn't seem to suffer from the same problem as he lifted his massive arm to lop off another low hanging branch with his big scary machete. He hadn't said two words to her since they'd waltzed off into this huge foodless jungle, and even before that all he'd said was, "I'm Jack. Give me you hand and I'll pull you to safety."
Of course at the time all she'd heard in that dark low baritone was, "Come here and let me show you the inside of my pants." Imaging her surprise when he'd neatly set her on her feet and merely walked away, using a crooked finger to indicate she should follow him, and hells yes she'd followed that camouflage-covered ass. She was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them, usually. She was beginning to think this little trip to Bolivia was going on the list of dumb things she'd done.
She was planning to kill her superiors when she got back to the states. This little jaunt into South America wasn't something she needed to spice up her life, although looking at Jack's taught thighs and toned hips moving under that green and brown cloth was almost worth the plane going down and sending her into this rain forest from hell, with nothing to eat and in severe need of a shower.
Sighing, she pulled her hair from its scrunchy and busied herself with detangling the thick red birds nest. She grimaced at the oils she could feel on her scalp and pulled her hands away and stared in horror at the shiny residue on her fingertips. Gross. That was all she was going to say about that, no wonder Jack wasn't paying any attention to her; she probably looked like hell and smelled like it too. Anger ripped through her and she pulled the mess back into a ponytail and wiped her hands on her already nasty jeans.
Jordan Heckleton was going to get socked in the face for sending her here. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He had no family here, no business partners, nothing. All she knew was that when she landed in Bolivia she was supposed to answer to a man in a black limo wearing a bowler hat, and take what ever package he gave her, back to corporate in Alabama. That was what she did for a living. She was a glorified freelance go-fer' and she'd liked the pay as much as the job itself, until now.
Thunder rolled over- head and she studied the sky with a wary eye. She didn't like the idea of being out in the middle of a rain forest to begin with, but a good soaking was going to make traveling a whole hell of lot harder. She wanted to tap Jack on his great big shoulder and tell him to make camp, but her pride stood firmly in the way. Another twenty minutes passed and she found herself in need of a ladies room. Badly. Wincing she didn't want to stop, but if she didn't her already muddy jeans were really going to be a mess. Stopping she crossed her legs kindergarten stile and cleared her throat, her hands fisted at her sides to keep her from holding herself.
"Uh, Jack, I need to....um...JACK!" Frustrated when he didn't answer her she jumped into a bush and struggled with the button on her pants. She was going to pee herself and that damn man was going to leave her behind. Finally she got the thin denim down around her ankles and settled herself upstream. Nothing had EVER felt better. Her bladder relaxed with a fury unknown to her and she nearly sighed out loud. She was surprised the whole forest didn't come running to see what new waterfall had let loose. Searching the ground for something to clean herself with she spotted a giant leaf that would do for what she needed. Grasping it both hands she pulled on it hard hoping it would come loose from its mother plant easily.
Not so much, the little bugger was attached with a ferociousity that was astounding. It merely ripped in half, landing her naked butt in the dirt. Thankfully she missed her own urine, the spot dark and damp against the leaves and other debris she'd piddled on. Groaning in frustration she struggled into her squatting position again and sent the offending plant and withering glare. She tried to get rid of most of the mud on her skin but it was difficult with just a leaf and nothing else. Her t-shirt was dirtier than her jeans and even so she was not running around with mister sexuality in nothing but her tank and bra.
She'd gained some weight in the last few months and she was not about to have him seeing the real her underneath her layers of clothes. It was bad enough he was seeing her with no make up, and unwashed hair. She stood up to assess the damage as best she could and noted with disgust that she still had streaks of dirt all over her upper thighs and backside. Damn.
She was just about to give up when a thin strip of cloth landed in her hand. She grabbed at it and noted it was a piece of black t-shirt material, and it was sweat dampened. A warm chuckle behind her wiped her head around and the site dropped her jaw and fuzzed her brain. A tanned stomach, washboard hard and ripped like her panties wanted to be, she gazed at Jack like he was god, and not just some fat sissy god, no, he was Adonis with a capital yum. Her heart sped up in a way she'd never known it could and she watched with fascination as he turned his back to her and slipped on what was now a wife beater. Her only coherent thought landed on, "There really is a God out there."
It was cheesy and she knew it to be so, but who could come up with better when all the tight hot muscle was within arms reach and she was naked from the waist down? The man was an aphrodisiac on steroids and she was starving for sex. Damn the bastard, did he have to look so good? She focused, or made the effort to, on cleaning herself, her hands keeping well away from that little button that begged to be messed with. She was not touching herself in front of him, back turned or not. With much hemming and hawing, she finally felt clean enough to pull her pants up.
