Chapter 7
(Producer, off camera: Tara? Tara, then what happened?)
Hmm?
(Chris kissed you?)
Mmm …
(Can you tell us what that was like?)
Sorry, what? Yes, I’m back. Um, yeah, the kiss. Mmm …
(Tara?)
Okay, yes, dammit, give me a second! Sorry, sorry, it’s just … I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything like that before.
(Like what?)
Like the whole world went silent and ceased to exist. Like there was only him and me, and nothing beyond that.
From the second our lips connected, everything else fell away. Chris’ hands were in my hair and mine cupped his stubbly chin for balance. If he wasn’t holding me so tightly, I would have simply fallen off his lap in a quivering mess—my head was spinning around the way it does after one too many vodkas.
He smelled of coffee and sun-soaked skin, and I opened my mouth to the kiss, breathing him in more. As he leaned into me, I could hear him moaning, low and sweet, and the sound caused my belly and thighs to clench.
Hopelessly lost, I pushed back into him, matching his fever. I bit his lower lip gently and dropped my hands to his chest, raking his t-shirt with my fingernails. Every part of me reached towards him—my lips, my tongue, my painfully hard nipples, my needy core.
Whimpering, I laced my hands around his back as he did the same to me, and we kissed, locked into each other, unbreakable.
I’d never felt so safe or so turned on.
A crashing noise began to intrude on our little world. Someone was hitting the gong, over and over. It didn’t matter at first, but then a voice rose from the din, too loud to ignore.
‘Chris! Tara! Chris and Tara! Chris, you have three seconds to release that girl, or you will incur a strike! Three, two, one …’
We pulled apart like two strips of Velcro with maximum resistance. Panting, I felt hot tears welling up from the pain of separating from him. The look on his face told me the same story, his chest heaving and his features stricken.
Also, there was a massive bulge tenting in his shorts. With my nipples pointed back at him like beacons, I could hardly judge.
I pressed off his lap and stood, looking around. The game around us had ground to a halt and everyone was staring. The contestants goggled with open mouths, the camera crews were all locked on us and production managers with cross faces scribbled on tablets furiously. I don’t think this is how the challenge was meant to go …
Miles strove to bring the order back. ‘Chris, I think it’s safe to say, good sir, that you are out of the game.’
Broken laughter echoed around, but I couldn’t look away from Chris, still in the chair. My lips already felt empty without him and I watched him touch his own mouth, as if he felt the same.
‘So, ladies! Shall we get underway again? Pick a new man, with Chris and Loris out, we have eight men left in the running!’
That meant there were more girls than guys who needed a partner, so I opted out of the next round and stayed near Chris. A sneaky camera crew lurked to our right, trying to capture our next moves.
‘You kissed me,’ I said, unable to think of anything more intelligent.
‘I did,’ he replied, shadows of lust in his dark eyes. ‘I’d do it again.’
‘I’d let you.’
We smiled, the first genuine smile we’d shared since we’d met in the coffee shop.
‘Tara, I want to explain about—’
‘Time’s up! Girls, five gents left, show us what you’ve got! Tara, we have a spare gentlemen who needs a partner.’
‘Crap on a stick,’ I swore, dragging myself away from Chris and over to the waiting Irish lad. My brain didn’t follow me—it stayed back with Chris, mulling over his words. Explain about what?
My newest victim had hair so red that it was actually a shade of burgundy. I thought I’d skip the lap-straddle, and instead opted for the visual route.
It’s a well-known fact that guys are way more visually stimulated than girls. We respond much faster to touch, though. With the aim of not molesting a complete stranger, I waited for the gong, then pulled the ties holding my kaftan together and let it fall open.
Slowly, I began to slip the straps of my one piece off my shoulders. Letting them fall loose, I worked my swimsuit lower and lower, exposing more of my breast, right up to the nipple line.
The poor guy didn’t stand a chance. Moaning, he licked his lips, and that was enough.
‘Callum, you are out!’ yelled Miles.
I grinned and rearranged my straps back to where they belonged. As I tied my kaftan closed, I made the mistake of glancing over at Chris, and the raw hunger I saw in his eyes made my fingers shake.
Meanwhile, Callum blew a breath out and said, ‘Christ Almighty, woman! That’s one competition I was happy to lose, and no mistake.’
His brogue was strong enough to make me pause, needing to absorb his words before I could respond. ‘You’re welcome, I think. Sorry you’re out.’
He stood, a burly man with masses of freckles. ‘I’m not too cut up about it, you know. After all, it’s only the first challenge. If they’re all like this, I’ll have to have a cold shower with every meal, if you know what I mean, love.’
I’m such a sucker for accents, I could have listened to Callum read a gynaecological textbook and it still would have made me swoon. ‘I do. Well, I’m glad you’re not mad.’
‘Mad!’ he exclaimed. ‘Don’t be daft! I’m in bloody paradise, surrounded by international feeks—I couldn’t be happier!’
From behind Callum, I spotted the other redhead in the group. She stared at us with sad, brown eyes. ‘Hey,’ I said, indicating her with a nod. ‘She’s from Ireland too, right? Didn’t I see you both making out last night?’
‘Jaysus. Yes, we did, but it wasn’t supposed to mean we were getting hitched or anything, you know? I didn’t come thousands of miles only to shift with the one lass.’
I think I caught his drift. ‘Well, sorry again. I better keep moving.’
The gong clanged and Miles’ booming voice stopped us all. ‘Boys, boys, boys! What a woeful display of self-control! Only two players left in the hot seats: Martial arts expert Toshi, and Beau, our very own bull-riding cowboy! Ladies—who will step up for the final round?’
Still buzzing from my easy wins over Callum and Chris, I felt like I had one more in me. Beau sprawled motionless in his chair, and I’ve always had a thing for a man in a cowboy hat. Before I could get to him, one of the French girls stepped giggling between his thighs.
I turned to Toshi instead. The information about his martial arts background made sense—he exuded strength and precision. He stared straight ahead, his eyes vacant and his inner concentration evident. This would be a tough one.
The gong rang and the other girls and eliminated guys began to cheer us on. I decided to try something a little different with Toshi. I knew I couldn’t get him to look at me for another pseudo-striptease, and I figured the other ladies had already tried the usual tactic of feeling him up.
I pulled my ponytail around from where it hung down my back and armed myself with its feathery tip. You can ignore touches, but what about tickles?
Sitting sideways on his lap, I danced my silky hair over his collarbone, and watched the flesh respond in goose bumps. Seeing that, I knew my plan would work. I ran the hair everywhere there was exposed skin, along his arm, up his neck, but I hit pay dirt when the strands touched his lips.
‘ Eeee! ’ He cracked, slapping his hands to his lips and rubbing them hard. Still in his lap, I shot my hands up in victory and the crowd exploded around us.
‘Tara has broken Toshi! The Aussie sheila is having an amazing start to the competition!’ Miles made it sound like I’d won an Olympic event, but I still felt ridiculously pleased.
‘Fucking bitch! ’ someone screamed. A furious Clara pushed her way through the others. ‘Get the fuck off my boyfriend!’
Lunging at me, the fiery Japanese girl wrenched me onto the ground. Stunned, I sat there as Toshi’s face split into a rare smile. ‘You are jealous. You love me still.’
Clara realised her mistake. ‘Fuck no. I just don’t think it’s fucking right what she did to you.’
‘You do love me.’
‘No, I fucking don’t!’
‘Contestants! Please, settle down! Plenty of time to argue over love at the beach party this evening. Please, everyone, gather around for the key presentation!’
Eyes livid, Clara stormed away as everyone else cleared the stage. I stayed standing next to Miles, while Cowboy Beau moved to the other side.
‘It is my honour to present the two of you with your fantasy cabin keys. Use them wisely!’ Miles handed me a large, brass key, ornate and old-school. Attached to the key was a small, heart-shaped locket. I rolled it in my fingers curiously.
‘Inside the locket, you’ll find the number of your cabin. Who you choose to reveal your cabin number too is entirely up to you. But bear in mind, anyone who knows who you are partnered with could betray you for a price—five hundred thousand dollars!
‘Well, surely that’s quite enough excitement for the one day,’ said Miles, fanning himself dramatically. ‘The beach party will commence here on the sand at 7pm sharp. See you there!’
‘ Cut! Great job, Miles,’ called one of the AD’s from behind a camera. ‘We need to do a few pickups of your lines. Can we clear the beach, please contestants?’
Everyone dissipated quickly, scattering back to our rooms. I looked for Chris, but he had vanished.
Where did you go? I needed to talk to him—that kiss was crazy. I still wasn’t sure if I could trust Chris, and although I had no idea what he’d do to win the game, I’d made up my mind to embrace this hopeless feeling of passion. And then he disappears! Grrr …
Grumbling to myself all the way back along the walkway to my room, I almost ran into someone waiting for me, hidden in the plants outside my door.
‘Tara … can we talk?’