Fever by Autumn Archer

19

I’ve strayed into a remote land.

Hidden under a canopy, blocking out sunlight.

Navigating twisted vines and complicated terrain.

I’m lost in the musky jungle.

And that jungle is my master.

El Fantasma.

Dante.

He’s the wilderness luring me to a promised land.

Water vines restricting my shins.

Lush foliage screening my sight.

A wrangle of mossy complexities.

Dense undergrowth keeping me hidden.

A tropical lagoon, refreshing and crisp.

A sleek jaguar, dangerous and deadly.

And I am falling.

There isn’t a comprehensible reason for my actions. Somehow, I’ve invited lust to shake hands with my antagonist. He’s threatened and ravaged, deleted and restored, but most of all, he’s revealed a side to him that snipped back his prickly branches.

There’s a man beneath the beast.

Together we unraveled without barriers. Only this time, he refused to look me in the eye as a savage roar rumbled from his throat. It was a brutal display of sexual hunger. Tenderness was absent. Hungry kisses weren’t permitted. We were simply a duo scraping for intimacy and fighting to stay apart.

Emotions buried me alive. His voice shook up my insides. His intensity suffocated my every breath. His presence was airtight.

How could a strong-minded woman consider the things I’ve done, never mind welcome them? I’m a ghost of my former self. Just like him.

I’m more alive in an imaginary death than I was as a free woman.

It’s been six setting suns and seven rising moons since our last encounter. I’ve spent sleepless nights running over every second we shared. I’ve stared up at the cloudless indigo sky and asked what I’d done to deserve a prison of greenery and lust. I’ve begged to understand why I’m inexplicably drawn to him. Why his confessions wrapped my heart with a shroud of warmth. I demanded an explanation for the uncontrollable attraction I developed for a monster. A monster who takes a teenage girl under his wing and gifts her with a smile.

None of it adds up.

In the beginning, he torched my future with bane. Until that night. The night everything changed. When our misguided spirits intertwined. When he extracted the bittersweet truth.

Then, a heartbeat after we both climaxed under the stars, he heaved me out of the pool, guided me indoors, and wrapped a towel around my shoulders. Without a further glance, he grabbed his clothes and turned his back to leave. I stood in silence as the lithe panther inked to his skin stared at me as he left my suite.

El Fantasma has become the true sense of a ghost. He’s a fleeting character in my dreams.

When it's after hours and Sal has checked off my list of tasks, I trek back to my cabin. Walking beneath the dusting of stars that witnessed my sins. They’ve seen it all. Each speckle of white light watched over my destruction and captured the moment forever. Those swirls of pretty pinholes are Heaven’s judging eyes. And I’ve been caught worshipping the devil.

Although I wander the walkways to my cabin alone, I never feel like I’m completely by myself. The wildlife pulsates and breeze-blown leaves diffuse menacing shadows. I’m relieved Dante has given me space, yet I shamefully wish he’d appear.

Tonight’s journey is no different from the others. I’m prowling along the wooden boards lined with banana trees, piecing together the emptiness inside of me. I’m not a spineless creature wilting at the hand of a tyrannical man. The change in direction brings on this unsatisfactory idleness. A swerve in my career. I refuse to admit I’m pining after him.

That's not who I am. I’m the girl who took on the bullies by working hard and making something of myself. Where they faded into the background, falling pregnant and raising families, I fed my passion and flew across the world to help preserve the rainforest. And look where that's got me.

It’s not that I don’t want a family of my own––I do. I just never penciled it into the first draft of my life plan. From an early age, ecosystems hypnotized me. I threw myself into conservation. It drove me to succeed as an eco-warrior. Had I known all that effort and dedication was leading to this, I would have joined Greenpeace instead.

Six months.

Then I’ll resurface from the jungle.

And then what?

Will I still be that woman?

I’d love to pull out my tatty notebook and jot down all the species fringing the walkways, but natural light has faded to black. Solar lamps illuminate the way ahead but fail to brighten the natural biome.

Branches break.

Twigs snap.

My knees lock. The sweetened evening air carries an undertone of cool citrus. Too familiar. I stay still, eyeing copper dappled ferns. A chill chases my heartbeat, showering my body with hailstones.

Twisting sideways, I squint at the dim overhang. My breathing doubles in puffs the second I decide to bolt. As I near my cabin, I glance back. I’m running from noises in a landscape where beasts roam and reptiles crawl.

Out of breath, I rush inside and press my spine to the door once it's closed. I never imagined this room would eventually feel like home. Its four walls to keep my secrets and offer me a climate more suited to my Scottish blood.

As expected, a tray of Brazilian street food awaits, accompanied by a jug of icy fruit juice. Supper for one.

I fall into my routine of stripping first, hanging my uniform over the chair and taking a sip of the berry-colored liquid to check for the bitterness of truth. The blend is simple and natural, free from concealed ingredients. Its thin consistency glides down my gullet, cool and refreshing.

But I’m numb.

My heartbeat has settled.

The temporary buzz of adrenaline has dimmed.

Icy water from a shower blasts the crown of my head without sparking my pulse.

I crave skin on skin.

Sal constantly reminds me to meditate. So, I wander to the wall switch and turn off the lights, plunging my dripping body into darkness. An opalescent glow guides the way to my toothbrush, where I polish my teeth and focus on the repetitive movement. I can't even do that right. Deep within my psyche, I’m sensing watchful eyes. I’m daydreaming about my ruthless master, el Fantasma, and the convoluted man, Dante.

Awareness drags me from the faucet. My heart rate skyrockets. There’s a new solitary shadow extending across the floor.

I’m stricken with a fever more consuming than before when I turn to face the window, and there he is. Moonbeams outline his predatory stance. Hair tousled and chaotic. The whites of his eyes glow around peridot, darkened with exhaustion and spiked with a terrifying thirst for violence. A jet-black T-shirt camouflages a fexed torso, radiating lawless deeds. Bare hands ball as he stares through the glass like a visitor at the zoo.

Power gushes through my veins. Urgency grows louder. My pulse thrums faster. Covering the brief distance, I pad to the glass and emulate his posture. An undomesticated look fixes his features to unyielding. His chest lifts and lowers in bursts when my hands journey over pebbled nipples and travel lower. My skin bursts to life with a jolt of endorphins. I groan as my fingers visit the parts of my body where his touch belongs. His palm slams to the window. I stumble closer, watching him punish his cock with a tight fist.

He seems different. His usual air of discipline is in tatters. Furious strokes are feral and untamed. He’s fraught, charged, and uncontrolled.

Placing my palm opposite his, a thin sheet of liquid sand forged in heat cheats us of contact. With my free hand, I circle the sensitive throb of swollen nerves between my thighs, shivering to the sound of my desire.

Dante chokes and strokes his length, never taking his eyes off my face. Those severe eyes don't follow my hand—they marry mine until he explodes. At that moment, I swear the man is trying to kill me. To make my time here as difficult as possible. My insides combust and a shiver rattles my muscles with an orgasm that surges outwards from my core.

His palm slides down the glass, and his jaw clamps tightly. He covers himself by zipping up his shorts, then slots his hands into his pockets. For a split second, he just stares. My heartbeat gallops, wondering if he’ll unlock the door and let himself in. As that dangerous wish unfolds, he disappears into the undergrowth.

My heart leaps.

I race to the main door and fling it open. Dashing barefoot and naked into the balmy night air, I scan the darkness, wishing I could call out his name.

But I can’t.

He gifted me with that one secret, and I’ll keep it safe forever.