Such brutal destruction.
Everything in splinters. Bamboo and glass. The samples they'd meticulously collected over the course of the last four months were lost, vials shattered, contents contaminated or spilled and mingled hopelessly in the sand. Frantic, scrambling, shards of shattered glass slicing their fingertips, the two men sifted through fragments of roof and wall, salvaging what they could.
"Derrek, look," Victor tried to sound hopeful. "The microscope. I think it's alright."
"And here, Dad. The centrifuge. It doesn't look damaged. Or the generator, either."
What difference did it make? Their time was nearly up. In a couple weeks they'd have to return. Get Cat back to her life. Back to school. Bad enough they'd stolen her summer. It would be irresponsible, unforgivable to ask her to miss half a school year. And that's what it would take to recover what had been lost.
Neither of them was ready to accept the truth, though. So they kept at it, carrying off debris so they wouldn't miss any smaller treasures, like the slides they found intact, and here and there, a bottle of solution that hadn't shattered.
At least they'd managed to save the notebooks when they'd fled to the shelter of the cave as the cyclone hit. All the data was there, even if the material evidence was lost. Maybe the notebooks would be enough to convince UNEP to insist on sending a proper team out.
They were still rummaging when Cat came running.
"Dammit, Cat!" Derrek growled with uncharacteristic heat. "Where's the case you were supposed to be bringing? Don't you get it? This isn't the time for you to get distracted, frolicking around. If we can't restore the samples, we'll lose everything!"
With her usual sang-froid, unsettling in a fifteen-year old, Cat arched an admonishing eyebrow.
"What is it, Kitten?" Victor asked, going pale as he gazed at his daughter.
Panting, shaking she said, "The boat. It's gone."
"Gone?" Derrek gasped.
"I thought maybe in the storm it just broke free of its moorings. I climbed the bluff. Thought I'd see it adrift."
Her shaking, her silence was weighing them both down, sinking them into the sand.
"Kitten, what?" Victor finally asked.
"I saw it. Maybe a hundred yards off the bluffs. Daddy, it sank."
***
THREE YEARS LATER
His thick cock was a meaty handful, even before it was hard. Derrek liked the warm weight of it in his palm, liked the soft, dusky pink of the head and the smooth texture and the even tan color of the shaft while it rested, limp, across his fingers.
Without even stroking he could make himself hard, rock hard, just thinking things. Watching his cock swell and stiffen, thicken and rise helped, too. Excited him. Now the helmet flushed a deeper pink, like guava meat, and veins stood out along the length of his thickening, hardening shaft.
At first he just ran the pads of his fingers along the underside, barely touching the ridge running the length of his shaft, balls to head. Then his eyes tracked his thumb as it circled the swollen crown, gently teasing the slit at the tip.
Damn, his balls were aching. Enough with the foreplay. Derrek dipped his fingers into the palm oil and smeared the slick liquid over his turgid cock. A hot surge throbbed under his fingers as he gripped himself, squeezed, and pulled his tight fist down, over the plump bulb, down the rigid shaft, until the side of his hand bumped against his thatch of pubes.
Slow, then fast, then slow again he worked his hand up and down the length of his hard cock, images in his head shifting to the urgent rhythm of his fist. Fuck. Yeah. He backed off when he got close. Waited. Breathed. Then pumped into the tight little hole he made with his fist, tugged his balls with his other hand, getting himself so hot, so hard he was panting for it, needing to let go, holding back, even grunting, turned on by the familiar scent of the palm oil he always used when he jacked off, the wet sticky sound of his cock pistoning in his fist, the smell of his body, sex and sweat mingling.
From where she stood at the entrance to the cave, Cat could only see one lean leg, bent to prop him against the shelf of rock he perched on, his broad back, bare and sheened with sweat, and one muscular arm flexing rhythmically. But she knew what her brother was doing. Standing there, still and silent, a hot pulse throbbed in her sex.
She wanted to see.
Quiet as she could she crept forward, her bare feet molding themselves over the rough, uneven surface of the limestone. As she got closer she breathed in the heavy, slightly sharp scent of Derrek's body mingled with palm oil, and she could hear his breath huffing and a sticky chaffing noise and every few seconds a low growl. The achy throb in her cunt thrummed more insistently. She wanted to touch, needed to rub it. But she didn't.
She took another step. Her eyes fixed on Derrek's wrist blurring up and down, she didn't notice the drop in the floor of the cave, misstepped and gasped out loud as she caught her balance.
"Cat! Fuck!" Her brother hopped off the rock, keeping his back to her as he adjusted his shorts.
Now that her prey knew she was there, she hurried forward, hoping to catch a glimpse before it was all tucked away, but Derrek pivoted, keeping his back to her.
"What's wrong with you, Cat? How about a little privacy, huh?" he growled.
She stayed silent. Being called a whiny brat twice as a child had made her strangely quiet by the time she was seven. And she enjoyed it, how her silence unsettled her big bro. Still keeping his back to her, he glared over his shoulder.
"Come on, Cat. Get out of here," he cajoled, now, "I'll be home in ten."
"But I want to see," she said, keeping her voice low.
"See? See what?" Exasperation crinkled his brow, beaded with sweat.
"It."
She stepped a little closer.
"What do you mean, 'it'?"
"You know. Is it still hard?"
