Claim Me Captain! I'm Addicted to You!
Chapter 32: Island (6)

Chapter 32: Island (6)

The storm lashed around them, rain slapping against their skin as thunder rolled above like an angry god. Nick’s eyes darted across the terrain—and then he saw it. A shadowed hollow in the side of a rocky hill.

"There!" he shouted, yanking Georgia toward the opening without hesitation.

They stumbled into the shallow cave, gasping for breath. Rain still echoed just outside, but in here, the world was hushed. Enclosed. Safe.

Nick ran a hand through his soaked hair, then scanned their surroundings. "This might actually work," he said between breaths. "We’re high enough to avoid flooding, shielded from the rain and lightning... and close to the ridge. We should move our camp here."

Georgia stepped further in, inspecting every corner. Her hands brushed over the rough cave walls, and she tilted her head to check the uneven ceiling. It wasn’t massive—about six meters deep and double the width—but it was dry, stable, and most importantly, empty.

He was right. They’d be safe here.

"I agree," she said finally. "Once the rain stops, we’ll move everything. The fruit trees are nearby too—it’s perfect."

Nick nodded. His tone dropped, more serious now. "We’ll also need to hide the liferaft. Cover it with branches and leaves. Veronica said the search teams are getting close. If they fly overhead, we can’t afford to be seen. Not yet."

Before she could reply, Nick reached for the hem of his soaked shirt and peeled it off in one smooth motion.

Georgia’s breath caught.

She wasn’t prepared for the sight of water gliding down the hard ridges of his abdomen, the way his skin glistened in the low light of the cave. Her eyes lingered just a second too long before she forced herself to look away.

"I—we... should start cleaning up," she stammered, heat rising to her cheeks. "If we’re staying here, we need to get organized."

She turned quickly and busied herself with her backpack, pretending to search for something as her heart thundered louder than the storm outside.

’Why does he have to be that good-looking and with a great physique?!’ she told herself.

Nick watched her, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his lips—but he said nothing. He saw how she looked at him, and he liked it.

As soon as the rain slowed to a mist, they moved fast—sprinting through the jungle trail, leaves slick beneath their feet, the sky still rumbling above. They expected damp blankets, soaked clothes, maybe some fallen branches.

What they didn’t expect was devastation.

"Goddamnit! Fuck!" Nick’s roar tore through the air as they reached the edge of their ravaged campsite.

Georgia froze beside him, her breath catching as she took in the scene.

The tide had risen violently.

The liferaft was gone. Vanished. The water had reached everything they thought it wouldn’t reach. The firepit had been swallowed whole. The folded clothes Nick had placed on the log were gone.

The water bottles. The canned goods. Everything Georgia had carefully laid on the rock—all gone.

Only the third bag, a few soaked blankets, and the shirts hanging high in the trees had survived the surge.

Georgia clamped a hand over her mouth, stunned. "B-But... it was far from the shoreline! How did the water even—?"

"The storm," Nick growled, pacing furiously. "I should’ve calculated the fucking tide surge. I didn’t think it’d come up that high."

He cursed again under his breath, then spun around and stepped behind her. "Let me check what we’ve got left," he said, already reaching for her backpack and opening it quickly.

He scanned the contents with grim efficiency. "We’ve got enough for two, maybe three days. With fruits and some shellfish, we can stretch it to five. That gives us a window."

"I’ll message Veronica. I’ll tell her to cut the rescue time short. Five days. We’ll make it," Nick added.

Georgia didn’t respond. She was still staring at the sea, unmoving.

Nick watched her, then softened. He stepped beside her, close enough for their shoulders to brush. "Hey," he said quietly. "I got you. We’ll get through this."

"I’m not worried," she murmured, voice distant. "I’m just... thinking. If they find the liferaft without us... won’t they assume we drowned? Given the storm we were in when we jumped from the ship."

Nick paused, then gave a dark smirk. "That’s a real possibility."

He let the words hang for a moment, then added, "Which could work in our favor. If they believe we’re dead, they’ll stop looking. Raymond will back off. It’ll give Veronica time to reach us without anyone watching."

Georgia turned her eyes to him, wide, uncertain, but not afraid.

"Come on," Nick said, his voice dipping low. "Let’s grab what’s left and get back to the cave. We don’t want to be out here when the dark settles in."

She nodded slowly and started pulling the wet blankets and shirts.

As they made their way back through the dense jungle, Nick and Georgia gathered armfuls of fallen branches, dry twigs, and brittle leaves. The storm had soaked most of the island, but the thick vegetation had shielded enough to give them fire-starting fuel.

By the time they reached the cave, the sun was already setting. They moved with urgency, dropping the wood and scrambling to find rocks.

Minutes later, flames crackled between them, heat licking up the walls of the cave, chasing the chill from the air.

"Lay the wet stuff close to the fire," Nick instructed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I’ll find something we can use for bedding."

Without waiting for her reply, he vanished into the trees.

Georgia got to work. She pulled out the two blankets and spread them near the fire, then added Nick’s merchant navy uniform, the oversized sleep shirt Evelyn had given her, and a pair of pants. Every item was wet, but the fire’s warmth was already starting to do its work.

She emptied their backpacks one by one.

One bag held their precious remaining food and water. The second contained rope, a whistle, flashlights, and batteries. The third was the emergency kit—hand flare, smoke canister, and Nick’s Swiss knife.

She lined up the bags near the fire to dry... then paused.

With a quick breath, she peeled off her soaked shirt and pants, wringing them out before laying them beside the others. Her lacy undergarments clung to her curves, not overly revealing, but enough to catch firelight in all the right and wrong places.

She settled on a rock and opened two cans from their stash.

Then she heard him.

Nick reappeared at the cave entrance, arms full of coconut leaves.

"They’re a bit wet, so we’ll need to—" He stopped mid-sentence.

The words caught in his throat.

His eyes locked on her.

Georgia didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. She met his gaze head-on, her chin lifted slightly as the firelight flickered between them like a live current.

She knew what he saw—lace clinging to damp skin, shadows playing over every exposed inch of her. It wasn’t meant to be seductive. It was survival.

"I just don’t want to get sick when the first-aid kit is in the liferaft. J-Just pretend I’m wearing something. Or better yet, don’t look at me."

Nick swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he set the leaves down a little too forcefully near the wall. He didn’t say a word.

But God, it felt like a slow burn waiting to erupt. The image of her got tattooed on his mind, and that mind of his started to imagine things... him undressing her.