“So about the goats . . .”
Max shuddered. “If you stay, you have to help.”
“Help?” I chewed my lower lip. “Help with what?”
“My strategy.”
“But I’m a contestant.”
“But I’ve already decided to keep you,” Max whispered.
“Really?” All breath left my body as he leaned in.
“Yeah.” He smirked. “Like a little . . . pet.”
Deflated, I rolled my eyes. “Wow, thank you, best compliment I’ve ever received.”
“Hey, at least you’re not Amazon.”
“What’s my nickname?” I reached for the sheets but he pushed my hands away.
“No looking.”
“Max . . .” I fluttered my eyelashes and licked my lips.
“Nice try.” He released my hands. “But I’m the king of playing that game, sweetheart, you can’t just go up against the master and expect to come out the victor.”
“What game?” I asked innocently.
“Really?” Max licked his lips, then eyed me up and down. “It’s amazing what the human body’s capable of, like if I lean forward, your breathing picks up, but then again so does mine. That’s what happens when you get close to someone else—you pick up on their energy, you pick up on their lust. So right now, I expect you to press your breasts together, to lean down so that I see part of your skin but not enough to actually give me an idea of what you look like naked. I expect your eyes to dilate as if you want to take everything in, and lick your lips one more time. The first time I missed the action of your tongue sliding out of your mouth, which means it wasn’t on purpose—it was because you were nervous.”
He pulled back and slapped me on the knee.
Holy crap.
I made a move to stand up. I was a bit in over my head, a bit flustered, and a whole lot of curious and possibly . . . a bit . . . attracted.
“Flight attendants, prepare for landing!” the captain said over the loudspeaker.
I tried to stand up but the flight attendant walked by and told me to buckle up.
Before I had a chance to reach for my seat belt, Max’s hands were already on it, and adjusting it in my lap. “You heard her.” His lips grazed my ear. “She said buckle up.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest. So not going as planned. But if Max was planning on keeping me, that meant he knew what we had to accomplish in order to stay.
“Max . . .” I didn’t open my eyes. “Did the girls—”
The plane dropped.
At least a few hundred feet.
I screamed.
Max gripped my hand.
And then the plane leveled out.
“That was a rush,” Max said dryly.
“Why.” Sweating. I was sweating. I hated flying. And it didn’t help that I was trapped next to the only guy who had better skin than me and had such a blinding smile that it made you trip on your own feet.
“Why what?” Why did he suddenly sound so controlled?
“Why did you pick me to stay?”
“College,” Max said slowly, before the plane dipped again. “You aren’t here for me. Admit it.”
“I, uh, I want commitment too.”
“You’re like that new Geico commercial with Pinocchio and his nose just keeps growing, or is that Progressive? I keep getting the two mixed up.”
“No, it’s just I—”
“You just what?” Max’s hands moved to my face, and my eyes fluttered open. “You just want to win?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I help you, you help me,” Max said. “We both get off the Island without getting eaten by sharks and women. Win-win.”
“I’m not afraid of women,” I fired back.
“No, but you’re absolutely terrified of sharks. It says right here in your profile.”
“Damn you.”
“Aw, thanks.” There went that smile again. “So what do you say? Partners?”
“But—”
“Make your choice, it’s me or them.” Max’s eyes focused on something behind me. “Fine, I’m making it for you.”
“Wha—”
His mouth was on mine before I could protest.
And what was originally going to be my plan—to seduce the man, get the money, get out—suddenly took a drastic turn toward hell, because he kissed like he had all the time in the world. He kissed like I was the only girl for him—kissed me like every girl dreams of being kissed.
When he released me, a camera was immediately shoved in my face.
Too disappointed and irritated to admit my disappointment, I flashed a grin and swallowed.
“So.” Max’s voice had completely changed, going from seductive to indifferent within the span of two seconds. “How about those sharks?”
He was looking out the window but his hand had found mine underneath the armrest.
I squeezed back and answered, “How about all those women?”
“I won’t let the sharks eat you.” His eyes narrowed in on my lips. “Swear.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let the women eat you either.” I smiled in return, knowing that I’d probably just made a deal with the devil.
So why the hell was I excited about it?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MAX
I’d gone through a prostate exam—one that, P.S., still gives me a little shudder—a dental exam, STD testing . . . I mean, you name it, I’d gone through it. All for a show.
And up until this point, I’d been pissed. I mean, seriously, a doctor had his hands . . . never mind.
But kissing Becca?
Kind of made all that pain and awkwardness worth it. I mean I still wasn’t happy about getting tricked into doing the show, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let my so-called friends get away with their little intervention, but still. Maybe tricked was too strong a word . . . I probably could have backed out, or at least told the producers I had some sort of contagious disease that meant I couldn’t be out in public. I should have just claimed Ebola, which would have bought me at least three weeks.
So I was back to the original issue. Clearly I was desperate enough to have gone along with my friends and their insane idea. I mean, surely I could have tried harder to fight the contract, right? Was I that bored? That upset about the direction my life was taking?
I licked my lips, remembering the feel of hers.
It had been a good kiss.
Hell, who was I kidding? It had been a damn good kiss.
The only problem? I’d just made an alliance with the one girl I couldn’t actually like—because it would work against me, against us. The other women would target her and honestly, what if we had some sort of connection, and the game ruined whatever chances we had because she was so focused on the competition and the money?
And I’d made my choice, taken the show back into my own hands by way of manipulating information out of the weak, and decided to send the ones home who didn’t belong—only keeping those who needed either the money or a free vacation.
Yeah, before you get all swoony on me for actually having a heart, just remember, I would still be toying with all their emotions.
Becca bolted when the plane landed. I hoped it wasn’t a sign that I was the worst kisser on the planet . . . because she tripped over her own feet to get the hell away from me.
Wasn’t the first time.
I made women either swoon or run. Reid on the other hand just made them swoon, the bastard.
Ugh.
“So.” Rex appeared out of thin air, his orange skin more orangey now that humidity was starting to seep into the plane. Curious, I wondered if he was melting. Furthermore, if I threw water on him, would I suddenly discover he was albino? I eyed the ocean curiously. “We’ll let the girls off first and then you can follow the crowd to the beach house.”
Beach house, now that sounded better. After being put through endless hours of torture watching the show with Mi
lo, I knew that at least the contestants were given kick-ass food and a place to stay, not to mention top-shelf liquor.
So it wasn’t going to be all bad.
Ten minutes later I realized it was going to, in fact, be bad.
“What do you mean you lost my luggage?” I tried to keep my voice calm, when really I wanted to shake Rex’s orange body until his head popped off.
“It won’t be a problem.” Rex patted his head with a cloth and put on his sunglasses. “We’ll have the luggage delivered as soon as possible. Let’s get you a nice drink, how’s that sound?”
“Fine.” I was tired, jet-lagged, and still reeling from that kiss. It didn’t help that we were staying on a private island, meaning we had to take a boat ride to get there, and damn I just wanted to take a nap, check the area for wild goats, and have a beer. Probably not in that order, but whatever.
The boat ride took a half hour.
The girls were in the boat ahead of me, but they were staying on the opposite end of the Island, which sounded freaking awesome until I found out the Island was only a mile long.
Which begged the question.
Where the hell did I run?
We were in the freaking Society Islands, somewhere near Bora Bora. The only thing I could do was look at a damn map, find the largest of the islands, and try to swim to it without getting eaten by a shark or taken by pirates.
Ah, pirates. I’d forgotten about pirates.
Ahoy.
“Allergies?” Someone poked me in the arm. What the? I looked up as the on-set doctor poked me with another needle and examined my skin, then looked down at his iPad.
“Um, ouch?” I seriously, seriously, wanted to poke the bastard back.
But then I realized, in my head, that I hated the word poke. Who made up that word anyway? One should never poke. Poking assumed . . . entering someone’s skin by force, right? Wow, that pill must have done a number on me.
“Looks fine.” The doctor nodded and reached up. I flinched. Hey, not my fault—Grandpops had classically conditioned me to be wary of anyone wearing latex.
Latex . . . what else was made with latex?
“NO!” I screamed and fell to my knees.
“Damn it!” The doctor pulled something out of a case, and I felt a tight pinch. “He’s having an allergic reaction to the shot!”
“YOU SHOT ME?” I yelled back, then looked down at my arm and started rubbing it. Wait, what just happened?
“To make sure you wouldn’t have an allergic reaction,” he said calmly, pulling out another giant-ass needle and flicking it. Without any hesitation he stabbed me again, just in case. His words, not mine.
“And if I would have?” Who was this monster? I demand to see his degree!
The doctor flicked the needle. “We would have made sure to give you some medicine to counteract the effects just in case the worst happened.”
“Worst?”
“Death.”
One of the producers chuckled.
“Ha-ha.” I joined in, then pushed the doctor’s hands away. “And I’m not having a reaction. I’m fine. I just . . . panicked.”
“Oh, yeah?” He peeled off his latex gloves. “You sure?”
I shivered. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Paradise.” Rex slapped me on the shoulder and took a deep breath. “Your hut will be over—”
“Hut?” I interrupted. “You said beach house.”
“Ah, the beach house is headquarters, command central if you get my meaning. But you’ll be staying on the beach.”
“That’s not so bad . . .”
“Just be sure the mosquito nets are covering your bed. You don’t want any of those little bastards sneaking in and chomping on your parts, am I right?” He laughed and elbowed me.
“Right.” I stared hard at the beach as the boat docked.
A hut.
One single hut was on the shore.
It wasn’t really small.
But it wasn’t big either. In fact it looked like something off of Survivor, so that was new. Last year the show had had a penthouse for the contestants. Swear the only thing that got me off the boat was visions of strangling Jason with my mosquito-bite-swollen hands.
I’m leaving a production crew with you and seven others with the girls. They’ll be given instructions to explore the Island tonight. Your only task is to get to know them and stay alive.” He kept a straight face.
I felt mine pale.
“Ha-ha!” Rex laughed and slapped me on the back. “I’m a kidder, I kid. You’ll be fine!” He laughed harder. “The only lizard sighting they’ve even had was at least fifty years ago.”
“L-lizard?” I repeated.
The captain of the boat suddenly dropped what he was doing, made a cross in the air, and then spit behind him and stomped his foot three times.
“You’re shitting me.”
Rex waved him off. “Silly superstition.”
The captain stomped again. Was that a tear? Was he crying?
“Right.” I licked my lips and slowly made my way off the boat.
The captain stopped me and put a piece of metal in my hand, then bent over it. “For the ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” Ah, even more fun surprises to look forward to.
“The Island is haunted with Polynesian ancestors—ones who are upset about the state of the Island’s natural resources.” He nodded. “But the metal protects, it wards them off.”
“And the lizards?”
The captain proceeded to do the same little spit-and-stomp thing and shuddered. “Only God can save you.”
“Awesome.” Well, at least there weren’t goats!
The film crew followed me as we made our way onto the beach and into the hut. It was actually a lot bigger than I’d originally thought. Kind of cozy and—
“SHIT!” I fell back against the door and froze as the shadow of the giant lizard started moving slowly toward me. “Stay back!” I held up the metal piece knowing full well it would do shit, but still.
The shadow got smaller, and then a small green gecko poked out from the wall and waved. Okay, so he didn’t wave, but I felt like such an ass that he might as well have.
A gecko.
Harmless.
“Hey there, little guy.” I approached him slowly and held out my hand. The gecko scurried away. “I shall call you Little G,” I announced. “My only friend. My only partner.”
“Uh, you do know we’re filming this, right?” the producer said from behind me.
“If I go insane and get eaten by one of the women, give my seat on the plane to Little G.”
“Right.” The producer nodded. “Should you sit?”
“What’s your name?”
“Al.”
“Can I call you Big Al?”
“Whatever gets you to do crazy shit and up our ratings.” He smiled.
“Ah, like naming the gecko and adopting it?”
“Nah, like getting a soccer ball, drawing the woman’s face on it, and sleeping with it at night because you’re so torn up she left halfway through the show. Forty million views on that YouTube.”
“Didn’t he go insane?” I vaguely remembered the last Bachelor doing something like that, but the details were blurry.
“He got some sort of island sickness.”
“It’s called the syph.” I nodded. “It happens when you sleep with that many women over and over and over again.”
“Still recording.”
“Still don’t care.” I sighed. “So where do I go now?”
“The bonfire.” Al sniffed. “But until then, why don’t you tell us how you’re feeling being on the Island, are you excited? Scared?”
I rolled my eyes and looked directly in the camera when I said, “I’m so excited I almost shit my pants.”
“Yeah.” Al licked his lips. “You’re just full of joy, I can tell.”
“Or shit.” I smirked. “Take your pick. Speaking of picking, I have women to choose.”
“Good luck with that, they’ve been drinking for the past hour.”
“So they’re dehydrated, drunk, on an island, and desperate?”
“Yeah.” Al nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“Well, God bless the USA.” I made my way toward the door. “Shall we?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BECCA
Going on a show to win money? Officially the worst idea I’d ever had and that includes keeping the whole scrunchie trend alive throughout my freshman year of college.
Well, that and my homemade tie-dye shirt.
“Party!” The three young ones that I’d nicknamed lost sheep were already three sheets to the wind, and Max had yet to arrive. Amazon—damn him for making it so that I couldn’t think of her as Gina anymore—was swimming naked in the ocean. One could only hope a shark would catch a whiff of the pine nuts and finish her off—and the rest of the girls were drinking and in various states of undress.
There was enough alcohol to put Arizona State University to shame, and that was saying a lot.
There were five girls to each hut. Each hut had a camera crew and a fully stocked bar. But guess what? No food.
That’s right.
Nothing to soak up the alcohol, not unless any of the girls wanted to go hunting through what jungle we had. Pretty sure that if the worst did happen, the animal would be so petrified of the drunk girl it would just give up and keel over and die on purpose. Hey, I know I would if Amazon were charging toward me.
“The fun has arrived!” Max announced, coming around the corner.
“Ah, shucks, I was hoping for food,” I said, joining him.
“Have a taste.” He winked. “Swear I won’t bite back.”
I opened my mouth to say something snappy but was pushed out of the way by one of the other girls, whom I hadn’t had the pleasure of nicknaming yet.
“Max! I had shots!”
“Did you?” He nodded. “How many? Hold up your fingers.”
“Four!” She held up two fingers.
I winced.
Max patted her head. “Let’s find you some water.”
“Kiss me, Max!”
He shrugged and planted one—directly on her forehead. “Now, let’s find you some water.”
“Does that count?” I whispered under my breath once he’d walked off with the girl.
The Consequence of Revenge Page 8
