James had been wandering this godforsaken island for days searching for his acquaintances. Sometimes he’d find different footprints in the muddy woods only for them to suddenly disappear. Quite puzzling to an inexperienced tracker such as him. Which is why he sorely hoped to find the hunter who was on board. Pearson might have been his name. Or at least the false one given James. But what did it matter now? The freak storm, electronic failures, and now separation with no hope of unification nor salvation. James’ fiancée would know by now that he wasn’t on a business trip.
He’d paid a hefty sum for this trip. Almost as much as the engagement ring. Right now he was meant to be having his last hurrah on a different island. One filled with beautiful women who didn’t have “no” in their vocabulary. Women would do what the arranged wives of these men would not. So the men might have memories while having missionary sex the rest of their lives.