Taking the Heat (23 page)

Chris groaned softly as I lifted the hem of my floaty shirt and oh-so slowly raised it up and over my head. My braless breasts bounced loose, the globes pointing at Chris, the areolas crinkled and firm. The soft steam felt like a caress on my skin as I let my hands skate down past my nipples, ignoring the way they cried out to be pulled and tweaked.

Hooking my fingers into the elastic of my panties, I turned around to give Chris a view of my round backside. As the lace pulled away from my skin, I felt a burst of dampness from my core, my body responding to the voyeurism.

The scrap of white lace dropped to the floor, and I stood, nude and exposed, panting slightly. Every surface of my body cried out for stimulation. Chris leaned forward, like a big cat ready to spring. I entered the shower, closing the door behind me and he swiftly pulled his chair right up to the pane, so close his breath fogged the glass.

As I stepped under the water, I gasped. The heated spray was a thousand tiny touches, pummelling and snapping against my every nerve. Leaning my head back, I let the drops glide over my face, feeling them drip from my swollen nipples and run down into the hot folds between my legs.

Reaching for the body wash, I created a lather with my hands, then stared deep into Chris as I began to stroke and cleanse my skin. Bending down to wash my calves, I pointed my ass at him, my legs slightly apart, showing off the swell of my cheeks and the darker places between them. He moaned loudly, gripping the arms of the chair, a huge tent inside his pants showing me he was enjoying himself.

Standing upright, I soaped along my collarbone, then the space between my breasts. My nipples were rock hard, sparking electrical signals down to my tingling core. I let my foamy fingers gently brush the little buds and they twitched, needing more. Rubbing my flat palms over the nubs, I worked my hands in circles.

Chris and I were both panting now as I gave my body what it wanted, squeezing both nipples hard between my forefinger and thumb. Cupping the entire breast with my hands, I tugged and rolled the nubs, imagining it was Chris' fingers on me. Submitting to the bliss, I began to whimper as the pleasure built.

I've heard of girls who can orgasm from just having their breasts played with; I never thought I was one of them. But as I tortured my own firm nipples, under Chris' scalding stare, I felt a wash of ecstasy building in my belly.

With the water massaging my skin and my breasts tingling in delight, I glanced at Chris. His expression of pure lust sent me hurtling over the edge of a precipice. ‘Oh! Ohhhh …
Chris!
' I called out, crushing both nipples as hard as I could, pressing myself to the glass and feeling my body dissolve into happy shudders.

My brain zoomed away, lost in a haze of its own lust, a place where Chris' hands split the folds between my legs, where he filled me and made me his own. My core spasmed and I whimpered softly, never wanting the feeling to stop.

Finally, the world swam back into focus. I shut the taps off and looked at Chris, his expression dark and dangerous with desire. Slightly shaky, I asked him, ‘Are you okay?'

‘Yes …' He growled it, like a wild beast. If there wasn't glass between us, I don't think logic would have been enough to keep us apart. Chris continued to burn holes in my skin with his eyes as the last of the droplets dried on my scorching flesh. My nipples hadn't softened and between my legs everything was throbbing, swamping my body with a fresh wave of yearning for him.

Goose bumps raked over me, and I wrapped my arms around myself. ‘Baby, would you pass me a towel, please?'

Like a man awakening from hypnosis, he shook his head, eyes finally snapping up to meet mine. ‘Of course,' he said gutturally. Standing stiffly, in every sense of the word, he reached for a towel and threw it over the top of the glass. Then he turned and left the bathroom—a wise choice, considering how horny we both were.

I towelled off quickly. The maid service had laid out a short nightie in fitted white cotton, which I pulled on, my nipples dragging against the material and visibly poking through the thin fabric.

Stepping out into the room, I found Chris on the balcony, hands locked on the railing, his knuckles white. ‘That was a bad idea, wasn't it?' I said, approaching him slowly. ‘I'm sorry, baby.'

He turned, his face full of wonder. ‘Don't be sorry. That was the single hottest thing I've ever seen and I will carry that memory with me forever.'

‘Meh, don't worry about remembering, just ask Greg for the footage,' I quipped.

‘I might just do that.' He sighed, his dark hair flopping forward over his eyes. ‘I just hate the fact that the rest of the world gets to share that moment too.'

‘They can see my body,' I countered, ‘but they'll never have my heart. That's yours.'

I took a step closer to him, then realised my mistake as his breath hissed and he moved backwards. ‘Babe, I love you, but I have to go. Otherwise, things are going to happen and I won't be able to stop them.'

‘I understand.' I walked him out, the cool night air wafting up under the hem of my nightie. ‘I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘Sweet dreams, babe.'

***

Transcript of Tara M's video diary: Day 16

And oh … they were sweet dreams. It was one long movie in my mind, of Chris and me, nipping, tugging, stroking, licking, bucking and dipping. I woke feeling refreshed and hoped he felt the same, even if the current of sexual longing hummed just underneath my skin.

A buggy picked me up from right in front of my room, and I leaped in beside the driver, feeling very agile in my black short-shorts and midriff shirt. With my high ponytail waving in the wind as we shot along the jungle path, my spirit soared. I didn't care what the challenge was; I was up to it.

We took the higher roads, passing the flying fox on the hill and climbing higher up. As the swell of the mountain flattened out, I saw the rest of the gang standing next to a suspension bridge that spanned the valley below.

The bridge itself was slender; you couldn't get a vehicle across it, but two people could walk abreast. In the centre of the span, a small platform jutted out, and far below that snaked a lazy blue river, carrying water out to sea.

As soon as I hopped off the buggy, I searched for Chris, but he hadn't arrived, so I joined Jen and Meghan, who were standing together. ‘Morning, ladies!'

‘Tara! It is good to see you, my friend.' Jen hugged me warmly, her sweet-smelling skin enveloping me with warmth.

‘Thanks, you too. Megs, how are you doing?'

Meghan's normally rosy cheeks were wan under her freckles. ‘I cannot complain. Although I wish a certain arsonist would stop eyeballing me.' A few meters away, Callum sat on the ground by the bridge. He stared pitifully at Meghan, his emerald eyes beseeching her. She stanchly ignored him.

‘Last night was pretty brutal. I'm so sorry, honey.'

‘You weren't to know. I don't know why I'm surprised—Callum's pa was a crook and his mother drank herself to death.' She shook her head, her lips tight and bitter. ‘I guess being a bastard runs in the family, you know?'

‘I spent all day yesterday with him.' I tried to defend him gently. ‘I don't think that's who he is anymore.'

‘People don't change, Tara. Much as you might like them to. I should have known Callum was a bad idea from the second he didn't recognise me on the first night. Now, there's a man I want to see.'

Another buggy pulled up, and Nik hopped out, his white teeth shining. The buff Kiwi ran to Megs and said, ‘Hey, girl, how you feelin' today, ay?'

‘Better now you're here,' she smiled, her face relaxing.

They wandered off together, and even though I really love Nik and the way he adores Megs, I couldn't help but feel terrible for Callum. I wouldn't have wanted to choose between them though, and perhaps it was a good thing for Meghan that she had a catalyst to help her decide.

Jen grinned after the couple. ‘They are so very different, are they not? Tell me, Tara, do you think that people from such different worlds can ever truly find common ground?'

‘I think love is a great leveller. Your life will probably be easier if you fall for someone who is just like you, but it wouldn't be nearly as exciting.'

Jen clapped her hands. ‘I am so very glad you think so! You see, I'm finding that I may be losing my heart to someone who is different from me in almost every way, but still, I have hope that we can overcome our diversity.'

‘Jen, that's amazing!' I was about to ask who the lucky guy was, but she stopped me in my tracks with a personal question.

‘So, how are things with you and Chris? I know that he loves you, I can see it in his eyes. You two have a flame between you, yes?'

‘That's one way of putting it,' I said, picturing Chris' fiery hands on my skin the first time we'd kissed.

‘Do you choose him, Tara? Is he your everything? Or is there someone else?' Jen's keen stare compelled me to answer as honestly as possible.

‘Chris and I … it's intense. It's not something I was looking for. I mean, I wasn't looking for anything, but if I was, I would have expected something more logical and steady.'

‘Like Henry?'

‘Like Henry,' I admitted. ‘I like how I feel when I'm with Henry, but he's so wonderful, I'm sure every girl feels that way. Besides, it's a moot point. I'll be Chris' for as long as he'll have me.'

Jen smiled widely, her dark eyes dancing. ‘That is so good to hear, my Australian sister. And look! Your everything arrives now!'

Sure enough, Chris pulled up in a buggy, the last contestant to arrive. He stood, his face brightening when he saw me. In navy cargo shorts and a long-sleeved white shirt, he looked ready for anything—including all the naughty stuff I'd do to him if I had the chance.

I had just enough time to dash to greet him, when the runners began to herd us along the bridge. As we stepped out onto the swaying structure, Jen ground to a halt in front of us.

‘Jen, are you okay?'

She gripped the rail as though the floor might be about to drop away. ‘I must admit something. I am not very good with heights.'

‘
Merda!
Why is it taking so long?' Dante pushed past us impatiently, his heavy footfalls rattling the bridge under our feet. Jen shrieked at the movement and clutched the handrail harder.

Scowling at the disgusting Dante, I turned to my normally unflappable friend. She shook all over, her eyes bright with terror. ‘I can't do it. I cannot. Go on without me.'

Even if she hadn't saved me from Dante, or held me while I wept for Chris, there was no way I wasn't going to help her. Jen is about the best human being I've ever met. ‘I'm not going anywhere. Here, hold on to me, and we'll do this together.'

I folded her hand in mine and gently pried her off the rail. With Chris behind us, considerately blocking anyone else from moving past, we moved inch by inch along the bridge. Jen whimpered and kept her eyes closed for most of it. I couldn't blame her; there were large gaps between the metal planks under our feet, and the vast space visible between us and the river seemed unreal.

Finally, we reached the centre, where Miles stood on a stepladder. A small team of guys were fiddling with long ropes and harnesses, and I felt a twinge of anxiety about what was about to happen next.

‘Greetings, contestants! No doubt you may have guessed today's challenge—bungy jumping!'

Half the people cheered, the other half looked horrified. Jen's ebony face turned a strange shade of grey, and I began to worry she might actually faint.

Miles went on. ‘On the surface of the river below us are keys—tied to buoys so they don't wash away. There's only a handful of you who haven't earned keys yet, but for the rest of you, each key can be traded for a name of someone not in your fantasy cabin, or an additional fifty thousand dollars, placed immediately in your account. All you have to do to earn one is bring it back up with you. Just, like, this …'

A heavily tattooed young man leaped off the edge of the platform and everybody gasped. Peering over the sides, we watched him hang on the air, screaming, ‘
Bungy!
' He fell slowly, dropping towards the water, his hands and head dunking under the surface as he reached the bottom of his jump.

The thick cord attaching him to the bridge pulled taunt and yoinked him back up again, almost to the height he'd started from. As he reached the apex of the rebound, he waved at us, a shiny wet key in his fist.

He fell and bounced several more times before dangling over the water. A small boat chugged out to collect him and we turned back to Miles. ‘Easy, right?'

‘Bring it on, bro!' yelled Nik eagerly, and there was some nervous laughter.

‘Lucky for you, Nik, you'll be up first—along with Jen, Tara and Dante.'

So many conflicting emotions swirled up inside me: I needed to be strong for my friend, who murmured helplessly against my shoulder in fear, but I also felt revulsion and dread at the thought of being grouped with Dante.

Chris spoke in my ear. ‘You can do this. I'll keep an eye on Fuck-knuckle, you just take care of Jen.'

‘Thanks, baby.' I rubbed Jen's arm. ‘Mate, you know you don't have to do this, right?'

‘I do, I do,' she moaned, her face stricken. ‘An extra fifty thousand dollars could do so much good back at home. I have to jump.'

‘Okay.' I admired her bravery, in the face of her agony. ‘I'll be with you, every step of the way.'

I held her hand as we sat on the narrow bench at the platform, while the bungy dudes strapped our legs tightly with the harnesses. The space was tiny, and the four of us plus the instructors were packed in tight.

Cords were attached and safety instructions given, but I barely noticed, expending all of my energy into ignoring Dante's leers and supporting Jen.