Page 59 of Taking the Heat

Chris slowly closed his teeth on my left nub, drawing back his head, stretching the breast with him. I squeaked as he released it, the round weight bouncing back to my chest. Immediately, he locked over the other nipple and repeated the process. The sight of my hard pink bud between his lips drove me over the edge, and I ran a foot between his thighs, seeking the hardness I knew would be there.

I wasn’t disappointed. Having seen him in all his naked glory the night before, I knew what to expect, but the length my toes found made me tremble. A drop of pre-cum moistened my foot and my core cried back in response. Using my two largest toes, I gripped his shaft and moved it back and forth. My movements were clumsy, but Chris responded fervently, sucking on my nipple with renewed vigour, pulling almost my entire breast into his mouth.

He popped the bud free, and began to kiss his way down my stomach, towards my oh-so-ready core. I wanted his mouth on me, his tongue in me, his fingers anywhere he wanted. Arching my back, I spread my legs further apart and gave myself up to him.

At that moment, there was banging at the door.

‘Ignore that,’ I said, pressing a hand to Chris’ head, motioning for him to continue.

His tongue skimmed the outside of my lower lips and I cried out, so ready for his mouth on me.

The knocking came again, this time with a verbal warning. ‘Chris, Tara, we know you guys are in there. You’ve got five seconds before we come in.’

‘They’re bluffing,’ I said, with no proof, the aching between my thighs overriding any logic. I didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

I felt Chris’ breath, hot on my clit, just as the front door banged open.

‘Shit!’ We both sprang up, clutching at the sheet for coverage as a production manager, a boom operator and Greg ran into the room.

‘Get the fuck out!’ Chris growled, his voice low with lust. ‘The touch restrictions are lifted until the power goes back on.’

‘That’s just it, guys,’ said the manager, having the grace to blush and look down at his tablet. ‘The power came on twenty minutes ago. Miles is waiting for everyone on the beach.’

Desperate, I offered a blatant bribe. ‘Guys, I swear to god, if you give us, like, even three more minutes, I will pay you each ten grand out of my winnings.’ I pleaded at them with my eyes.

‘Sorry, Tara.’ Greg peered out from around his camera. ‘Rules is rules. Let’s go.’

Chapter 20

‘FFS …’ I hissed at the crew. ‘Fine!’ I snatched up a robe and stalked to the bathroom to dress. Looking back at poor Chris, lying in the bed with a magnificent hard on, I knew I wasn’t the only one who would find the next few minutes uncomfortable.

Slamming the door, I leaned against it, pressing my thighs together, trying to still the burning between them. Logical thought was gone. My body shrieked at me, my nipples pinging with current and my core snapping in fury.

Almost blind with sexual energy, I jammed my shorts on and slipped the light pink shirt over my head, moaning as the cotton scraped over my tingling breasts. It was going to be a very long day.

I still wasn’t prepared to service myself on international TV, but I hoped Chris would take care of his own needs—balls that blue could be potentially fatal. Or at least impede his motor skills and ability to form a sentence. I vacated the bathroom so he could get ready and proceeded to shoot filthy looks at the camera team.

‘Come on, Tara,’ Greg wheedled. ‘You know we’re only doing our jobs.’

‘Fuck you guys.’

‘Potty-mouth,’ he grinned. ‘As soon as Chris is dressed, we’ll go.’

My skin broke out in fresh goose bumps as my dirty mind visualised Chris holding himself in his hand, stroking that firm shaft, my image in his head. ‘I’m sure he’ll only be a minute.’

Less than thirty seconds later, Chris emerged, a stripy white and navy shirt highlighting his defined chest. His white sailing shorts completed the look, but I couldn’t help eyeing the still swollen bulge distending the material. Either he hadn’t jerked off, or it hadn’t worked.

The look of hazy lust was written all over his face. My hands itched to reach for him and drag him back into bed, million or no million, when Greg cleared his throat. ‘Ahem. Alright, kids. Let’s do this!’

***

We walked to the beach in the early-morning sun, Chris shadowing my steps. With him so close, it was that much harder to think. Every plan I’d made since setting foot on the Island had gone astray: my quest to ignore Chris, to not fall in love with him, to drive him away. I’d only wanted to get my money and get out. Now, I didn’t know what I wanted.

The beach was back to its flawless appearance, with the stage under a new and shiny marquee. Two smaller covered tents were set up further back, fluttering in the wind.

Miles sat in a director’s chair on the stage while makeup girls fluttered around him, trying to mask his inebriated appearance. With his veiny red nose and puffy cheeks, I wished them luck. Looking at Miles, there was no doubt what he’d been up to during our down time.I wonder if there’s any grog left on the island …?

The rest of the contestants were equally transparent about their post-cyclonic activities. Clara sat under a nearby tree, singing softly to Toshi as he stared at her, enraptured. They both had that distinctive glow which seems to only appear on people who’ve had recent, brilliant sex.

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