Taking the Heat (4 page)

‘Oh, yeah?' I spread my fingers wide across the material of his shirt, right above where his nipples lay. I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to slide my fingertips up and under that shirt, explore every inch of him with my bare, sensitive pads.

I looked up into his face, and immediately realised my mistake. His blue eyes, the colour of shallow clear seas, drew me in. I swam in their depths, sucked into him. Chris leaned forward until his forehead rested on mine, our breath mixing: mine almost a pant, his deep and steady.

He lifted his hand and placed a thumb possessively on my lip. I closed my mouth slightly, nearly kissing his digit, but not quite. The room had fallen away; there was him and me, and the rest was just background noise.

Swaying, connected with Chris like that, I felt my misgivings melt away. Maybe I had misjudged him. I couldn't fight chemistry like this. I felt it and, clearly, so did he. If this show was all about sex, the viewers were about to get a spectacle, because I was ready to let Chris pick me up, throw me down and claim me.

‘So, tell me then; what's your story?' I asked, my voice a horse murmur.

His next sentence ended my little fantasy. With his burning pale eyes, he said, ‘I'm here for my prize.'

My body froze. Where only seconds before I'd been willing and pliant, now I'd shut down. Pulling away, I glared at him. ‘Of course you are. Well, you and me both.'

He looked confused as I pulled away. ‘Tara … what …?'

‘Do me favour, okay? Just don't get in the way of what I came here for. I have a story too.'

Annoyed that, for a
second,
I'd believed he was here for a reason beyond the million bucks, I turned. Finally steady on my slender heels, I stalked off.

‘Tara, wait!'

‘All the best to you, Douche-face,' I muttered. At that moment, I lifted my face to search for Henry, hoping desperately that he hadn't been claimed by one of the other ladies, and was confronted with a roving camera crew.

Pulling up short, I just managed to avoid crashing into the gigantic lens. The guy behind the camera gave me a thumbs up, and as I eased around him, he tracked me.

Annoyed, I looked around again, only to see more cameras. They were everywhere. Lining the dance floor, remote-controlled in the ceiling, built into the walls. I know, I know, it's reality TV with an international audience, but still. Can't you chuck a blanket over them, or use a two-way mirror, or something?

That thought made me shudder. What about the mirror in my bathroom? Was there someone behind it? Actually, that's a good question.

(Calling off camera to a producer)
Hey, are there cameras in the bathrooms?

(A muffled reply)
Not
really?
What the hell does that mean? Ew. Forget I asked …

Anyway, by some miracle, Henry appeared back beside me, a drink in his hand. ‘I brought you a vodka and cranberry. I hope that's okay?'

With his slender fingers holding the glass hopefully and his giant brown eyes beseeching me for approval, I smiled. Taking the drink, I said, ‘Thank you. That's perfect.'

Henry grinned goofily, and I decided to give him a little show. Lowering my mouth to the straw, I extended my lips to wrap around the plastic erotically. It was my favourite trick for catching eyes across the bar in the clubs at home.

Instead, my mouth missed the straw, and it slid straight up my nose.

As I snorted and coughed at the same time, my eyes teared up. I dropped the drink and clutched at my face. The glass hit the deck and shattered, the noise horrifically loud even against the music. Pulling the straw out and batting it away, my hands massaged the outside of my scratched nasal passage. Meanwhile, through my watery vision, I noticed two different camera lenses zooming in for a close-up of me completely losing my pride.

Unable to look at Henry, I slipped my hands up to cover my eyes. ‘Henry, oh my god! Can you just walk away and not look at me ever again? Please?'

A gentle chuckle reached my ears as soft hands touched mine and lowered them. ‘No. No, I don't think I can do that.' I squinted and peeked at him. His chocolate eyes met mine as he cupped my chin gently. ‘I've only just started looking at you, you see, and I'm afraid I'm already rather fond of doing so.'

I laughed, and shook my head, as if I could shake away the mortification. Henry laughed along with me. Being around him was so different to the raw sensation I felt with Chris. Henry was all gentleman, considerate and subtle. Did he immediately light my body on fire? No. Was that a problem? I don't think so.

Anyway, Henry wrapped me slowly in his arms, and danced me away from the broken glass. As the track changed and the music grew hotter and more arousing, I allowed myself to close my eyes and simply rock with Henry in time to the song.

With my back against Henry's chest, I took a moment to catalogue the other people in the room. Right next to us, a gorgeous girl with epic curves and midnight skin grooved away between two guys, who must be identical twins. Behind them, a couple were pressed up against the wall, tongue-wrestling, both of them with flaming red hair. Two girls danced with each other on the bar,
Coyote Ugly
style, running their hands up and down each other's bodies, while a cluster of guys cheered them on.

And against the far doorway, Chris stood, wreathed in shadow, cutting into my soul with the heat of his glare.

Rolling my eyes, I felt like showing off. I leaned over, pushing my butt into Henry's groin. I heard him moan as I swung my head around, hair flaring wild. Henry's hands found the smallest part of my waist and spun me around to face him, while I let myself loll back, confident that Henry wouldn't let me fall.

Upside down, I could still see Chris watching me, absorbing me. Even from across the room, I felt his energy, as strong as if it were his hands on my back and his leg between mine. Maybe that's why, when I brought my head back up, I was surprised to see it was Henry's face in front of me, going in for the kiss.

Startled, I recoiled, turning my face quickly. Henry's kiss landed on my ear.

‘Oh! I'm sorry,' he said, his cheeks pinking up deliciously.

Horrified, I said, ‘No! That was totally me—I'm so sorry!'

Even without looking, I knew that Chris would be laughing derisively at me as I embarrassed myself again.
Fine.
If he was going to watch, I would give him something to look at.

I grabbed Henry by the hair. ‘Let's try that again.' I moved my lips up towards his, pursing and ready for him to meet me.
I will kiss Henry and forget about any cash-hungry Douche-faces.

Before I could do it, the lighting changed, the music went silent and a
boo
went up from our little crowd.

‘Ladies and gentlemen!' boomed Miles Shield. He stood outside on the beach, where a small stage had been erected and tiki lamps flamed. ‘May I have your attention?'

‘May I have another thirty seconds?' called back a very angsty female voice in a Brazilian accent.

As laughter spread through the room, Miles replied. ‘I'm afraid not. Outside please, everybody. You need to hear the rules—before anybody makes a mistake that may cost them a million dollars.'

Chapter 4

With our cash prizes on the line, the ten guys and ten girls filtered outside. Henry kept an arm around my waist, until the crew members directed us to opposite sides of the sand in front of the stage.

Lined up by sex, I finally had a chance to observe my fellow competitors properly. The ladies beside me were like a gorgeous, feminine rainbow. Hair shone in colours of gold, platinum, sable, burgundy, ginger, mocha and even pink. Skin tone was similarly varied, with our complexions ranging from silken ebony to glowing translucence.

Seeing us shoulder to shoulder, I realised that despite our obvious differences, we were all physically very similar. Each one of us sported long hair, flowing well past our shoulders, and our builds were all petite. No one had a bust size under a B or over a C, and we were all within an inch or two of the same height.
Freaky …

I glanced across at the guys, finding a similar theme. They were all tall, fit and lean. Hair was all cut in more or less the same style, a shaggy do that looked unkempt but sexy as hell. And I would be willing to bet that each and every one of them was sporting a six-pack under their suits.

I knew for a fact Chris had abs like a fitness model. Unable to resist checking him out, I let my eyes stray down to the end of the row, where the coffee-maker stood, dark and brooding, like a tall mug of espresso. His stare was locked on me and I shivered, despite myself.
Get a grip, woman!

A waving hand next to Chris tore my gaze away. Henry fluttered his fingers at me and I smiled. From the corner of my eye, I could see Chris scowling, but I ignored him.

‘Contestants! Thank you!' Miles took his place upon the small stage, his bald head shining in the light of the moon, the flaming torches and the camera bulbs. ‘Now, I know things were just about to get very interesting for some of you inside the bungalow, and I'm sorry to interrupt. But this is Erotic Island, and there are some very specific rules to follow during your time here.' He grinned wickedly. ‘That is, of course, if you'd like to keep your prize money.'

Waving his fingers, he went on. ‘We all know that Erotic Island involves sex. But
how
, I hear you asking? Let's find out.'

Except for the hissing of the waves against the sand, the beach was perfectly silent and still. Each of us stood, desperate to hear the keys to keeping our fortunes. I balled my fists and squeezed my nails into my palms, nervous energy streaking through me.
This is actually happening.

‘The first rule may surprise you,' said Miles. ‘There is no kissing, touching or physical contact of any kind allowed between the opposite sexes, except during Erotic Island challenges.'

‘What?'

‘You're kidding?'

‘WTF?'

A chorus of cries ran along the lines, as we tried to process.
This is a show about hooking up, right?

Me personally, I breathed a little ragged sigh.
Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

‘Now, now,' said Miles, waving down the sounds of dismay. ‘Let me go on. Rule number two: anyone caught violating rule number one will be given a warning. Breach the rule a second time for a second warning. The third, you'll be thrown off the island, without your prize money. So, as an example, a kiss, a hug and a squeeze could cost you a million dollars.'

I swear, you could literally feel the libidos going flaccid. Stifling the urge to giggle, I waited for Miles to go on.

‘Rule number three: the only exception to rule one is inside your designated fantasy cabin.'

Hairs prickled along my neck as the hot bodies around me rallied at the use of the word ‘fantasy'.

‘Each of you has been assigned a special cabin. Not the one you've been given for general use, but a second suite, fitted out especially for all your sexual escapades. And before you get any ideas about inviting anyone you want back to your cabin, think again: each cabin has two assigned competitors. They, and only they, may enter the cabin via their separate entrances, and in choosing to do so, must engage only with each other.'

Miles paused dramatically. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your sexual partner for your stay on Erotic Island has already been chosen for you.'

Excitement rippled along our ranks. The eyes on the men across from me came alive with renewed interest, as each of them began to size up the ladies. The girls did the same, everybody wondering who they'd been assigned.

I folded my arms across my chest, uncomfortable under the stares. Surely we were almost done?

Miles went on. ‘Of course, nothing comes easily on Erotic Island. In order to claim your individually numbered key for your fantasy cabin entrance, you must win first or place second in one of the challenges, issued daily. Once you've earned a key, you may enter your cabin any evening you choose, between 7pm and 7am.

‘The other interesting fact about your time within the fantasy cabins: it will be blind.'

No one knew what that meant. We stood and waited for more information.

‘The cabins are completely dark. There are no windows, and there are two sets of doors between you and the outside world to ensure no light finds its way in. There are no light switches, lamps, clock radios—the interior of the cabins is designed to be a pitch-dark space. Perfect for getting to know a stranger intimately, don't you think?'

As turned on as I was terrified, I let my imagination paint a picture of what it would be like to lay hands on a hot stranger in total darkness. As the recent memory of the blindfold had showed me, losing your vision made every other sense heightened. Every touch, every stroke, every kiss, everything would be amplified a thousand times. From the stunned silence of the people around me, I knew I wasn't the only one picturing what the fantasy suite blindness might feel like.

‘Rule number four,' Miles said, loudly enough to make several people lost in their own lewd thoughts jump. ‘While inside your fantasy cabin, you must keep your identity secret—no talking, no names. Nothing to give you away.

‘On the last day on the Island, each of you will be asked to guess the identity of your fantasy cabin lover. Guess correctly, and you will be awarded half the cash of the other person. If both of you guess correctly, you'll both lose half your winnings completely. It's in your best interests to give as little away as possible in the fantasy cabins.'

Hundreds of scenarios sprang into my mind.
What if you both told each other who you were? Could you agree to guess wrong? But then what if one of you reneged and gave you up for another 500k? Could you work out who was coupled up with who by keeping track of who won challenges?
The game might have been devious, but it was sure to make for an interesting study in human relations.