He nodded, his bristly chin moving against my br**sts.
“And however sad you are about Sunnie, there’s no denying that we kicked ass today.”
Jendan squeezed me closer. “We do make a good team.”
“See?” I teased him. “Just remember that it’s a game. Everything that’s happening here has nothing to do with real life.”
He stilled. “Everything?”
Almost everything.
~~ *** ~~
It was getting harder and harder to resist my sexy partner as the days went by. It didn’t matter that neither one of us had showered in weeks, or that our breath probably smelled. We were drawn together like two magnets. If he passed by me on the beach, he’d reach out to touch me. If I came up behind him, I’d wrap my arms around him and press my br**sts against his back.
It was a delicious kind of torture, really.
The more we vowed to be platonic, the more we toed the line. We didn’t kiss. We just touched. And talked. And imagined what it would be like after the game, when we’d have all the time in the world to explore each other.
Nights were the worst. Okay, they were really the best, but they tried my resolve pretty hard. As soon as dusk hit, we’d crawl into bed together, under the blanket, and just explore each other’s bodies. Not in any particular erogenous zones - he’d yet to touch my br**sts or my sex, and I hadn’t touched his c**k - but we’d just stroke arms and legs and necks and hands and feet. I learned all the spots that Jendan was ticklish at, and he learned that I wasn’t ticklish at all, much to his disappointment. He’d give my shoulders a good rub instead, and that always made me boneless with delight.
We had to keep the touching under the blankets, though. The moment Jendan touched me, my ni**les would get hard and I could feel my pu**y get wet with need. And when we pressed our bodies together, however platonically, I could feel the thick, hard length of his erection against my skin. We were constantly aroused by the other’s presence, but it was an unspoken sort of agreement that we’d do nothing to alleviate that arousal.
And we talked. Lordy, we talked. There was no subject we left unturned, from stories of how we’d both lost our virginity (him: prom; me: homecoming, under the bleachers), our childhoods growing up, and old relationships that hadn’t worked out. I told him about my last time in the game and how Kip had used me, and how stupid I’d felt afterward because I thought I’d been in love. He told me about playing House Guests, and the supposedly haunted house they’d left them in, and the other players.
We talked about everything under the sun, and we laughed and joked and had a wonderful time.
Despite being hungry and dirty and na**d and in a state of constant, unfulfilled arousal? I’d say it was the best week of my life.
It was getting more difficult to keep things pristine for the cameras, though. I’d stroke my hands down Jendan’s thigh, pleased to hear his muffled groan, only to see a microphone appear overhead and a cameraman show up nearby, filming.
That killed my ardor pretty quick, every damn time.
We still nailed it in challenges, too. Not only did we work well together on the beach, but we worked well together when things came down to the wire. We narrowly missed out on one food challenge, and won another (pineapple and ham pizza). And the Judgment challenges continued to whittle down the playing field. Rusty was the next one to go, an auto-elimination once he was nominated for Judgment and lost, becoming the first member of the jury. His poor wife Kissy wept copiously when he left, as if her heart was breaking. I felt sorry for her, but I reminded myself it was just a game, no matter how heart-wrenching her sobs.
Really, though, things were going perfectly. I had an amazing partner, we kicked butt in challenges, and we were eating a little every day. We’d even made the jury. Things were pretty awesome on Blue Team’s beach.
Which meant that something was bound to go wrong, right?
~~ *** ~~
“Welcome to today’s Judgment challenge,” Chip said as we lined up on our colored mats.
There were only four teams left. The yellow team was completely gone, which left Red, Blue, Green, and Purple. Of those teams left, I was pretty sure we could destroy them all in a physical challenge of any kind.
Which was why it alarmed me when I saw the long, narrow table set up in the challenge area. I gave Jendan a worried look. We’d been eating well the last week or so, but I knew my partner still got squeamish when it came to gutting fish. I did all the fish cleaning to spare him.
For a big, brawny, muscular guy, Jendan had the stomach of a sickly pre-teen.
I buried my worries, crossing my arms over my br**sts and keeping my attention focused on Chip. Maybe I was just thinking worst case scenario. There could be any number of challenges that had to deal with a long, waist high table.
A fleet of production assistants moved to the table, setting covered silver platters in eight spots. Something pungent tickled my nostrils.
Oh dear.
“For today’s Judgment,” Chip began, an unholy look of glee on his face, “You will be partaking in a number of traditional Fijian dishes.”
Hell. I looked over at Jendan. My partner had gone pale and swallowed hard.
“You can do this,” I murmured. I reached for his hand and laced my fingers with his, then gave him an encouraging squeeze.
He nodded, but the look on his face didn’t fill me with confidence.
“For each round,” Chip continued, walking down the length of the long tables. “Each person will have a dish presented to them. They must consume all of the dish. If you do not finish your dish, you are out. If you throw up your dish, you are out.” He gestured at the covered trays. “There are eight places here, but only five will move on to the next round of eating. The first two teams to lose both partners will be heading to Judgment. Does everyone understand?”
I began to sweat a little. Jendan could do this. He could. He should be hungry, I told myself. We hadn’t eaten breakfast today because we’d been unable to catch anything in the ocean to eat. If he was hungry enough, this wouldn’t be so bad.
And if he was awful at it, I’d just have to eat enough for both of us.
Chapter Sixteen
“You should have seen those things. Eyes, man. They still had eyes. Ugh. I get queasy just thinking about it right now.” — Jendan Abercrombie, Day 23, Endurance Island: Power Players
“Everyone line up at their places,” Chip announced.
I gave Jendan’s hand an encouraging little squeeze before we stepped up to the table. He gave me a worried look, and then his gaze focused on his plate. Mine did too, and I tried to imagine the horrors underneath there. Kip stepped up next to me, and as I looked over at him, he smirked and licked his lips.