"What the hell are you doing here?" Sebastian said.
When Alex arrived back at the camp, his brother was eating. There were still a couple of vacuum-packed lobster tails left. All the pheasant had run out as Sebastian had forced the gamey bird down his throat to keep up with his brother, pretending he cared for the taste in order to maintain his pretense of being Alex.
"Don't want to talk about it." Alex said. "I'm going to bed."
"Don't you want to eat?"
"You know I don't like those things."
"You used to before the crash."
"God, Sebastian, just give it up, will you? You're never going to convince me I've cracked up and stolen your identity. Just give it a rest already, little brother."
"Okay, little brother." Sebastian said. "Whenever you're ready to talk about that I'll be waiting."
Alex ignored him and lay down on his makeshift bed. He took off the armband and threw it behind him towards their little campfire. It wasn't long before he realized how exhausted he was and then sleep wasn't far behind. His emotions had left him seared raw and he longed for the release of unconsciousness.
About an hour later, he woke up again with a grunt into the night sky. His boner was back. He had spent the hour asleep but not in anything like release. It was Melanie's face that haunted his dreams. He had felt her hands on him, felt his body pressed to hers, their limbs intertwining as perfectly as only dream lovers are able to. Somehow he had never been able to release himself in dreams either. A real woman, a flesh-and-blood female, had always been the only thing ever to give him satisfaction.
He looked around him and saw that Sebastian was gone.
Don't tell me...
Surely, his brother wouldn't be that sneaky. He looked around for Sebastian's boots but couldn't see them anywhere.
"That bastard!" He hissed.
Then he remembered Melanie. He jumped to his feet. He had to move quickly before his brother did something crazy. But in the dark and with no boots, his feet would be cut to pieces on the wild forest floor. It didn't matter; he couldn't risk anything happening to her.
By the time he had crossed the island, he could barely walk. At last, he could just make out the flicker of the campfire through the trees. What he heard made his blood boil but he refused to believe it. His little brother couldn't be that stupid and selfish, but the moans of pleasure that wafted through the trees spoke otherwise. As angry as he was and as sore as his lacerated feet were, the haunting sounds of Melanie's pleasure still ignited his own desire like a match to rocket fuel. His pants tightened again as he struggled to hurry through the dark forest with his injured feet.