26. Chapter Tenty-Five
Chapter Tenty-Five
Ursula
“Alright, I’ll be dropping you off at the villa with the rest of the boys, then all of you will have some time to unpack and settle in before Anna and some of the other guys from Pack Milton make the rounds to introduce each prospective pack and introduce your first ‘activity’ before you have your individual dates,” Kimmy explains carefully, looking like a summer-holiday version of her normal self—her typical uniform of all black, omnipresent composite clipboard, and large black headset swapped for a large straw sunhat, sunglasses, and pink and white seersucker romper—a clear neon pink plastic clipboard rounding out Island Kimmy’s wardrobe.
“Thanks Kimmy, I’ll see you at the socials—right?” I straighten a little in my seat, the rainforest passing outside our windows like an impenetrable emerald corridor around the winding road.
“Yeah, of course! And possibly on one or more of your dates, depending on what production has in store.” Kimmy smiles, not just that flat, perfunctory work smile—a real one that lights up all her girlish features. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve got some of that ‘island glow’ about me—or if I’m obviously all nerves.
Then I process what she’s just said. Individual dates. My nerves turn to giddy anticipation.
Maybe seeing Kimmy, usually so professional, so…uptight—begin to shed her inhibitions and let some of her sparkle shine through, gives me just the tiniest bit more confidence as we pull through a stand of lush vegetation on our approach of the massive villa, just barely visible through the dense greenery.
As soon as we’ve pulled through the entry roundabout, I can see the boys in their vacation finery clustered around the massive door made of honey colored wood—a cluster of palms nearly two stories tall lining the entryway; an expansive awning cantilevered over the impressive entrance.
When the van draws to a stop, Lysander and Teddy are at the sliding door, offering me a hand down.
Bless Julian, he knew that the villa would be only the second time the guys had seen me since my absolutely bonkers reveal gown. He also knew that I would be guaranteed to do quite a bit of swimming on this vacation—and prepared me accordingly. I’m arriving in the mildest of my ensembles, a custom-cut-and- tailored red one-piece. High cut leg openings, deep scoop neck—classic hot-lifeguard chic. A beautifully draped sheer mesh sarong in shades of red and orange tied over one hip—a pair of cork wedgeson my feet.
“I—I—I—you-,” Lysander stammers before just trailing off—his eyes unabashedly glued to my chest.
Teddy, obviously more practiced at pretending he’s not looking at someone’s tits, is able to keep better eye contact, but he still has to clear his throat to tease Lysander,“I think what bro is trying to say is, you look red hot, Princess.” Teddy takes my hand presses a kiss to the back of my wrist.
Lysander blushes furiously, turning away from our clasped hands with embarrassment. I lean in and place a kiss on his burning cheek as I tug us onward.
“Thank you, boys.” I bat my lashes at them, still in disbelief that I’m being escorted by these gorgeous men to our home for the next several days.
Before we pass through the huge door and into the villa, I make my way down the rest of our pack receiving line, hugging and pecking kisses through Ash, Mavren, and Ronan before we all make our way.
“We’ve only got an hour or so before they come back around,” Ronan announces, rubbing his palms together.
My stomach does a little flip and I’m not entirely sure what he’s implying.
Ronan seems to understand how all of us have interpreted his little proclamation, rushing in to clarify, “I mean—let’s go take a look around the place and see what’s up, figure out the sleeping situations etc.” He gestures to the huge door as if to illustrate his point.
“Unless…” He grins, and Teddy cuffs him on the shoulder—a single, dry “ha!” escaping him.
Even though I don’t hate Ronan’s suggestion, I can see how it’s probably more prudent to go with his first plan.
“I want more than an hour to fool around.” I wink coyly, breezing past the boys to the door—using all of my strength to swing the huge wooden slab wide open.
I’m perplexed by the fact that I’m still outdoors once I’ve passed through the huge wooden portal I assumed to be the entrance. I wander through the huge open atrium— its pristine poured concrete floors inlaid with tiny bits of sparkling stone, perfectly manicured plants seeming to sprout from nowhere; hang from the railings of the open mezzanine terrace just above us—a mirror-like pool appearing to extend from the patio straight into a vista of jungle, white sand, and crashing waves.
“Holy shit, I think this is officially the nicest place I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Ronan marvels—his eyes as big as moons.
“I might be right there with you,” I breathe, turning slowly to take in all of the outdoor furniture—the huge sliding glass panels that separate the luxurious living room, kitchen, and nesting room from the outdoor space.
Without any of us noticing—Teddy has already run up the steps to the mezzanine, hanging over one of the plant laden railings to call down to us, “There’s an absolutely insane bar up here—and a hot tub on the opposite side of the balcony.
I watch Mavren start his way up one of the staircases to the mezzanine—his long legs taking two steps at a time.
“Holy shit—this infinity pool wraps around almost the entire building.” Ash calls from the corner of the patio—peering around the corner.
I allow myself to drift closer to the glass door to the nesting room so I can get a better look inside. There’s a massive bed that looks as if it could fit upwards of ten, sunken into the floor—the edges of the nest padded with thick built in cushions—mountains of additional pillows in satin, silk velvet, and decorative tassled brocade furnishing the inviting space—surrounded on all sides by glass and access to the wrap-around infinity pool; its dark green stone making the water look almost black.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about having a bath here!” Mavren shouts from above and I can’t help but grin. He knows me well enough to know my priorities already.
The view from the patio and pool, hell the whole south facing side of the villa, looks out over the tops of the trees that blanket the downward slope from the villa down to the white sands of the seashore; pristine blue waves crashing on the beach below.
A pair of hands creep over my thick waist from behind, fingers roaming over the ribbed lycra of my swimsuit.
Ronan’s fresh, floral, herbal scent washes over me as his lips find a place to rest between my neck and shoulder.
“I think it’s safe to say we’re all going to want to sleep in there.” He nods his head against mine in the direction of the nesting room, and I feel a liquid heat pooling between my legs. Ronan’s earlier suggestion of fooling around until the camera crew shows up for whatever bogus on-camera activity they’ve got planned for us seems even more appealing…but I remember that we’ve probably spent a quarter of the available time already and I haven’t gotten to freshen up since I was loaded into the sprinter van—camera ready for my reunion with the boys.
“I’d say so,” I purr back, letting the round of my ass press firmly against Ronan as he hugs me from behind. I’m pleased to feel his tiny, likely involuntary, lurch forward—grinding himself slightly against my ass—the cheeky high cut of the back of my bathing suit visible through the sheer sarong tied around my waist.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ash, lips pressed together as if he’s holding his breath, one of his hands balled in his brightly colored mesh t-shirt, his icy eyes inscrutable behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
I’m about to slither out of Ronan’s arms, make sure I’m not already falling prey to playing favorites—when a loud pop makes Ronan and I jump apart without a second thought.
“We made it!” Teddy crows happily as a cork sails high overhead. “Who wants champagne?”
I look up to see Teddy, the neck of a bottle of champagne held tightly in his hands—a cascade of creamy foam pouring over his knuckles, the backs of his hands as he holds the bottle over the edge of the mezzanine railing. I have to shake the dirty thoughts from my mind—returning from the instantaneous slingshot into the realm of my most perverted fantasies so that I might keep up a normal conversation here in the real world.
“Me, I would!” I call, a little too enthusiastically—hurrying up the stairs, waving Ash and Ronan up after me.
After some glasses of champagne, a bit of unpacking, and a long conversation about who’s toiletries were going in which bathroom—the boys and I were once again joined by the larger production crew as well as Anna and a few other members of Pack Milton.
We’ve been corralled into the beautiful outdoor furniture on the patio of our villa for an activity, yet to be described to us by our show’s hosts.
While the support crew gets Anna, Paul, Steven, and George camera ready, I study the large gray box set before me, the only obvious item before us on the long wooden table. We wait in awkward silence for Anna and her packmates to shine some light on the situation.
“You’re probably wondering about how things are going to go now that we’re here in beautiful Costa Rica, aren’t you?” Anna asks us while making direct eye contact with the bank of cameras just over my shoulder.
I nod, the rest of my prospective pack joining in with the odd, ‘Yeah’ and ‘Mhm’.
“Well, we’re going to decide the order of your individual pack dates with a little blind kissing game.” Paul grins.
“Blind kissing game?” Mavren repeats out loud, his skepticism and confusion mirroring my own silent befuddlement.
“In the boxes in front of you Ursula, you will find some very high quality blindfolds and total silence ear protection,” Anna continues on calmly as if she hasn’t been interrupted, though you can hear her patience straining just beneath the surface.
“Ursula is going to stand on a box, and the rest of you will approach and let your lips do the talking—no hands! After she’s made her way through all of you, we’ll have Ursula rate her blind kisses—which will decide the order of your individual dates.” Steven finishes the explanation, clapping his hands together matter-of-factly.
While I’m nervous at how the boys will take the results of this little contest…I can’t say that I want to volunteer myself for deciding the order—too much pressure, too much opportunity to hurt someone’s feelings. This way, it can be chalked up to the winners of a silly game…even if it’s a silly game I’m looking forward to playing.
I’m about to start applying the headphones and blindfold, when I realize there’s the matter of scent at hand. The question doesn’t have a chance to leave my lips before Anna turns away from me to a production assistant, taking a large purple bottle with a cartoonish tasseled atomizer presented to her on a metal tray.
Realization of what she’s about to do strikes me just before Anna pumps the atomizer a few times—a mist of mixed pheromones; overwhelming my sense of smell, flooding my nostrils.
“That should keep you from recognizing any of your new beaus by their scent,” she chirps helpfully and I try not to gag on the taste of the chemical-laden perfume as it spreads through my nostrils and down the back of my tongue.
The boys eye me nervously as I wobble onto the box in my cork wedges—covering my ears with the huge over-ear headphones before securing the blindfold over my eyes.
I stand in complete darkness, the static-whooshing sound of heavy noise suppression, a crackling hum in my ears as I stand on my box, hands clasped together behind me.
The first kiss is sweet, tender, everything one could want out of a kiss—soft lips, the softest graze of tongues against one another. It shames me to say that I don’t know who this kiss belongs to yet—but it just means I need more and more practice.
The second kiss is slightly deeper than the first, lips that press more urgently against mine—a tongue that presses further into my mouth; a slow and seeking pace.
The third is much more timid, and yet—the flutter of my heart as his lips linger against mine—unwilling to be done, though his charge is only a single kiss…it makes my heart ache with its sweetness.
Kiss number four charges straight past the others, confidently striding for something more—his lips practically tearing at mine, his tongue seeking past mine—as if he might begin to coax my soul from my mouth.
I feel my knees wobble and my heart pound. I am reminded of the crew who are not just looking on but recording this whole ridiculous affair as I stand here blind and vulnerable, but before I can start feeling sorry for myself, I feel the last face draw close to mine.
For a second we’re so close that we steal one another’s breath each time one of us takes a ragged inhale. I feel the tip of his nose ghost against my cheekbone—a whisper of eyelashes. The electric sensation of those gentle touches make me shudder, just as he catches my bottom lip gingerly in his teeth—sucking it gently before closing his mouth over mine—our tongues swirling around one another.
Inside of another breath—his hands are in my hair—crawling over my body.
Someone must yell at him for using his hands because he stops abruptly—as if remembering himself—relinquishing his hold on me as if I were a red hot tea-kettle, his tongue withdrawing reluctantly from my mouth before he grudgingly breaks the kiss.
I swallow down a big breath, waiting until a production assistant taps my shoulder before I remove my blindfold and headphones.
“Alright Ursula, how was that?” Anna beams, her plastic smile dazzling in the bright sunlight.
“I’m not sure if I got all that the first time, can we do it again?” I bat my lashes innocently, playing to the obvious feeling joke.
Anna and the rest of the attending Pack Milton reward me with sunny for-television laughter.
“Funny girl.” Paul elbows Teddy conspiratorially before turning back to face me. “But you’ll have to rate each kiss to find out who gets those first individual dates.”
I squirm under everyone’s eyes as Anna reveals a large wooden display with different numbered tiles and hooks. Next to each numbered tile is an empty hook. I catch sight of a stack of numbered tiles with holes punched in the top in her manicured hands and know what’s coming next.
“You’re going to rate each kiss on a scale of one to ten, starting with kiss number one!” Anna exclaims, handing me the numbered tiles gleefully.
“This is so hard—what if all of these guys are tens?” I laugh uneasily, the hard plastic cards clacking softly in my hands.
“You can’t give everyone a 10,” Anna grits through her teeth, more obviously losing her patience with each new interruption or challenge to her edict.
I nod anxiously and turn back to the boys.
“Starting with kiss number one,” Anna prompts me again, and I am forced to hang the relevant number beside the big rectangular tile labeled ‘Kiss #1.’ I can see that there’s another tile hanging behind it…the identity of the kisser, ready to be revealed as soon as I’ve made my ratings, no doubt.
I take a deep breath and hang a number ‘8’ beside the first kisser.
“Alright Ursula, you know what to do!” Anna prompted me to go down the line.
I give ‘Kiss #2’ a 9.
“What made kiss number two a nine for you?” Anna swoops in, hardly giving me a moment to think.
“Uhh-well, I don’t know—it was just a little more…” I make my hands into fists and make a little grunt before I can think better of it.
Anna and pack Milton laugh—but the guys look like they’re sweating a little.
“You know what we’re going to ask about number three.” Anna taunts, and I hesitate before I hang up the number 7.5.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lysander wince—and my heart aches for him.
I hate the stupid show for making me do this dumb exercise. I hate myself for playing along with them instead of just rating the guys highly across the board and refusing to take the bait.
But since I’m in this deep…
I mark ‘Kiss #4’ as 9.5.
“Woah, that’s some pretty high praise right there. Almost a ten!” Anna clicks her tongue. “Did kiss number four have that—” Anna does a less than kind imitation of my earlier fists-and-grunt gesture, and I want to sublimate into the ether.
Instead of answering, I figure it best to get the last of it out of the way. Next to ‘Kiss #5’ I hang the gold star. A perfect 10.
“Well there you have it! That’s a pretty definitive winner right there!” Paul claps happily, making his way over to the board to remove the ‘Kiss #’ tiles—revealing the names beneath.
In last place, with a score of 7.5 is Lysander. While I’m sure his pride is scuffed, likely no one is surprised he’s placed last in this proverbial race. In fourth, with a score of 8, is Ronan—who seems more than a little surprised that he didn’t clinch the number one spot—though he seems to be taking it in stride.
In third place, with a score of 8.5 is Mavren—who looks pleased to have scored in the middle of the pack, rather than first or last.
In second place, Teddy is distinctly pouty. While any of the others would have undoubtedly been pleased with second place—Teddy Wong clearly considers it as good as last, his pride clearly wounded.
Just as shocked as the rest of us, Ash marvels at his score—a perfect 10.
“That settles it, your first date will be with Ash, your second with Teddy, third Mavren, fourth Ronan, and fifth—Lysander. You’ll enjoy your first dates before the first social of your tropical getaway—starting with Ash and Ursula’s date tonight,” Anna explains, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Enjoy your time together, lovebirds!” she gushes, the camera zooming in on her devilish wink.