“Babe, you’re going to send yourself to an early grave if you keep festering about that,” she said, running her long, smooth fingers across his chest.
Babe?
“Did you call me ‘babe’?” he asked. No woman had ever called himbabe, and certainly not a mere week into their relationship.
Wait. Relationship? Was that what was happening between them?
Her eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to answer, but a light rap on the door pulled their attention away. “Shit,” he muttered as he climbed out of bed and pulled on some clothes. Corrie didn’t bother hiding, but Ford knew better than to reveal her whereabouts as he squeezed out the door to find Sunny standing there with a worried look upon her face.
“Sunny, what is it?”
“Are you sick?” she asked.
Ford shook his head as he wrinkled his brow. Sick? Sick with what?
“We think it’s food poisoning. From the dessert,” Sunny continued. “Half the camp is lined up at the TTs.”
Ford peered around the corner of his tent, and sure enough, several of the crew stood hunched over and holding their stomachs, waiting to use the bathroom. Ford and Corrie had been so quick to get to his tent the night before that they’d passed on dessert. Guess it had been a wise move.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. Agnes is beside herself, claiming she’ll never cook again.”
“Where’s Ethan?”
“Puking his brains out.”
“What about you?”
Sunny shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t eat sugar.”
Wait... all that energy was... natural? Ford internally shook away the thought with a laugh.
“What are we going to do?” Sunny asked.
Good question. Whatwerethey going to do? They couldn’t exactly go out in the middle of the jungle with half the crew keeled over with food poisoning.
“I don’t know. I need some time to think. Let me finish getting dressed and I’ll find you in a bit,” he said, returning inside and leaving Sunny on the porch.
He walked over to the bed and collapsed on his back next to Corrie, then ran his hands over his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“They’ve all got food poisoning,” he said, muffled by his hands.
“Then that settles it. We’re taking a day off,” she said.
With a swift movement, he tore his hands from his face. “We can’t take a day off.” They needed to push on if he was going to get the money for his mom’s treatment.
“Ford, it’s food poisoning. We can’t expect people to workout there with diapers and barf bags. Thank God that’s all it is, though. In a day or two, everyone will be back to normal. Besides, you need a day to clear your head.”
“I’m not going to be able to take my mind off the dig.” Or his mom.
“Really? Because I can think of some ways to take your mind off things,” she said, reaching her hand under the waistband of his boxers and stroking his cock. He closed his eyes, taking in the delicate touch of her fingertips along his skin.
“Well, that’s certainly working,” he said, pulling his lower lip between his teeth.
“I can do this all day. Or we can do other things,” she said, shifting her body to straddle him, their underwear providing little by way of a barrier between their insatiable bodies.
