Home > Wicked Games (Games #1)(31)

Wicked Games (Games #1)(31)
Author: Jessica Clare

I wasn’t frowning at the thought of having to wait the short distance (like thirty feet) to get to the shelter—I was frowning at the thought of the camera crews possibly watching us grease each other up and how turned on we were getting. It was a private moment on an island where there weren’t any, and I peered suspiciously at the shadows. “Did you see a cameraman?” They were so unobtrusive and quiet that I’d stopped noticing them after the first few days. I kicked myself—how could I forget where we were?

“No, but I want to be sure that there’s no surprise cameras hidden in the trees,” Dean said, and relief spiraled through me. He linked his hand in mine and grabbed the jar with his other, leading me back to the shelter. “Guess what I stole from our cabin,” Dean said to me with a grin.

I couldn’t guess. “What?”

He pressed the jar against his pocket, and I heard foil crinkle. Condoms. Clever man.

I grinned at that and moved to the front of our shelter. “Glad we didn’t share those with the other team.” We kept a few extra palm fronds near the front of the shelter to wipe the sand off of our feet, and as we did so, I noticed something odd. “Our shelter—they expanded it while we were gone.”

Dean grunted at that. “Yeah, Lana was mentioning something about it. Said it was too cramped for two adults.”

For some reason, that made me sad. “I kind of liked cramped.” Now I didn’t have an excuse to snuggle up against Dean through the night, and I actually wanted to.

“Me too,” Dean said, and his voice sounded just as put out as my own, which made me grin. Then he slapped me on the behind. “Ladies first. Get in there so I can finish you off.”

The double entendre wasn’t lost on me. I made sure to wiggle my ass as I crept into the small shelter.

Lana had definitely been busy. The interior of our tiny shelter had been expanded—where before we’d barely managed to squeeze two bodies on four bamboo planks, we had ten now. She’d taken my original A-frame shelter and expanded it with a second A-frame and had a heavy bough of leaves crisscrossing the middle. It was a lot like an M without the dip in the middle.

“I need to thank her tomorrow,” I said, pulling my legs under me and reaching for our one lonely blanket that was folded in the corner.

“There’s one thing I like about this,” Dean said, crawling in behind me, and he pulled something over the front, blocking out the view of the sky. “She actually made a door, that crazy woman.”

I glanced at the other side of the frame behind me and sure enough, she’d created a flap to cover the entrance. “Definitely have to thank her tomorrow.”

Dean grabbed my ankle and tucked it over his shoulder, and I fell back onto my elbows. In the low light, I could just barely catch a glimpse of his devilish smile. “Lay back, my lady, and let your humble manservant oil up thine legs.”

“Humble manservant? Where has he been all this time?”

“Busy admiring the view,” Dean said in the worst cockney accent I’d ever heard.

I was about to tease him about it when instead of oiling up my leg, he twisted his body around so that he was on his knees, my foot still over his shoulder, and he knelt between my legs. He grabbed my other calf and pulled it up until I was spread out on the floor, Dean looming over me and biting at my lower belly with his teeth.

“Dean!” I gasped as he began to tug my bikini bottom down with his fingers, momentarily jerking my legs together. He left the piece of fabric dangling from one foot, which he had thrown over his shoulder before moving in and nuzzling at my thigh. I squirmed, trying to keep my moans muffled as he moved ever closer toward the spot I needed him the most. “We shouldn’t,” I began to protest and then moaned loudly when his breath fanned across my slit, my hips bucking slightly.

“Hush, woman. I’m busy renewing my alliance with my teammate. I need to win her over if I want her to vote for me,” he said in a husky voice, and his tongue slid lightly along the seam of my skin, already damp. His fingers slid my folds apart and then his mouth moved over my flesh, and I lost the tart reply I’d come up with as his tongue grazed my clit.

And after a few seconds, I didn’t care if the cameras in the forest caught my cries of pleasure after all.

***

I stared down the endless, sandy beach and had to force myself not to touch Dean. The others lined up on the sand next to us, and as usual, curious glances were being directed our way. I knew they were waiting to see if we’d explode on each other, but the ruse was getting harder and harder to keep up, and I felt their scrutiny intensely.

Next to me, tall and tense, Dean had his arms crossed over his chest, watching our host tensely. If he felt the same awkwardness that I did, he hid it amazingly well.

Down the row, Lana seemed to sense my nervousness, and she gave me a long, meaningful look and a slight tip of her chin as if saying straighten out. Head in the game.

I nodded at her and turned my focus back to Chip. Focus.

“This is your final team challenge,” Chip said in a boisterous voice, as if he were more excited about that than we were. He held up a colorful length of rope. “This will join you to your teammate, and together, tied at the waist, you will both make your way through the most grueling obstacle course imaginable.”

Oh gee. Great.

“This last challenge is, of course, for immunity. The two teams that finish last will be taken to Judgment, where one team will be eliminated.”

The last one. We just had to get through this one, and we’d make it past the first round. After that, it would be individual challenges, and our secret alliance would quietly clean up behind the scenes. I wanted to look over at Dean and see if he was relieved or unhappy that we’d soon be lumped in with everyone else, but I didn’t dare glance over.

I remained calm and silent as I was lashed to Dean’s side with a bright purple bungee cord of some kind. It separated us by about a foot—just enough so that we’d trip over each other—and had a bit of give, but not enough. I could quickly see how the producers wanted this challenge to go—one partner dragging the other through the obstacle course. Lovely. I peeked ahead at the obstacles through the trees—yup, sure enough, I could see some sort of swinging vine and a pool of mud up ahead.

Poor Dean, stuck with me.

“Teams ready?” Chip shouted, dragging my attention back, and as one we hunched forward, one knee placed in front of the other, readying to run.

   
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