And tall, dark, and gorgeous that I’d sat next to on day one? He was perfection, in a rather large, rather impressive package. I tried not to stare as we moved down the line, but Jesus. That Sunnie chick was lucky. I’d trade her partner for Kip any day.
Cameras readied. I brushed the sand off of one foot at a time and put my shoes on. When I straightened, Chip was in place, his makeup so thick I could see it from where I stood. He checked his reflection in a hand-held mirror and then tucked it into his pocket, then studied us as we stood on the line. “How’s everyone handling their time on the island? Got fire? Shelter?” He turned to the two athletic women, who were as stunningly, disgustingly flab-free. “Summer?”
“Shelter, but we’re struggling with fire,” she admitted, looking at her partner.
“What about you, Jendan?” He turned to Hotness.
Jendan. That was his name. I tasted it on my mouth, then shook my head at my own silliness. Not here to lust after guys. Not even if they were incredibly hot and incredibly, ahem, hung.
“Same,” he said briefly, looking over at his partner. “We’re not used to roughing it on an island.”
“Some of our contestants are, though. Let’s hear from a returning Endurance Island player,” Chip said, his gaze scanning down the line until it rested on our team. “Kip, how are things at your camp?”
“They’re great, Chip,” Kip said easily. “Annabelle and I have things under control. Water. Shelter, you name it, we’ve got it.”
I kept my mouth pressed shut, though I wanted to laugh hysterically at Kip’s answer. What was the point in bluffing? To pretend that we were strong? The moment we fumbled in the challenge like the others, they’d know the truth - we were just as exhausted and hungry as the others.
Also, what was this ‘we’ crap? If there was any level of comfort around camp, it was because I’d been working my butt off while Kip lounged and moped about his sunburned dick.
“Well, with that, let’s get to today’s challenge.” Chip clapped his hands together and rubbed them, as if anticipating an exciting show. “You’re going to be participating in footraces against each other. Teams will be randomly selected, and when I say go, both teams will head out into the swimming area.” He pointed at the beach behind him. “In the water are colored buoys. Under each buoy is a golden ring, tied to rope. There is only one ring and two teams competing for that ring. Your job is to find that ring and bring it back. If the other team has the ring, you need to get it from them. The first one to cross the finish line with the ring gets a point for their team. The last two teams to score three points will be nominated for Judgment.”
I peered at the waves. Sure enough, there was a colored ball bobbing about halfway between the shore and the boats where the camera crews waited for the challenge.
“Everyone understand the rules?” At our silence, Chip pointed. “Good. I don’t need to remind you about the physical rules of Endurance Island, then. No punching, hitting, kicking, drowning, eye-gouging, etc.”
My eyes widened and I looked down the line. Last season, the challenges had been almost wimpy. We’d never had any sort of full-contact challenge. I was a little unnerved, considering I was one of the smaller, softer girls on the beach.
“Ready to play? Then, Team Three versus Team Seven. You’re up.”
Summer and Polly (their names written across their collarbones and shoulders) strode forward, high-fiving each other. Leslie and Emilio looked less certain as they moved forward, and I didn’t blame them. Summer and Polly were clearly in amazing shape. I sure didn’t want to go up against them. Both teams moved to the starting line and crouched, which gave those of us on the far end of the beach a display of four pairs of sun-reddened asses. Someone snickered.
“Go!” Chip yelled.
All four people raced forward, splashing into the challenge area. As I watched, Summer took an early lead, swimming out. Instead of chasing after her partner, Polly turned and tackled Emilio in the water, pushing him under. Leslie gave a bellow of anger, and instead of chasing after Summer, she tackled Polly, trying to pull her off of her partner. The three thrashed in the water, and as I watched, Summer easily swam out to the buoy, dove, came up with the Frisbee-sized ring, and began to splash her way back to shore. By the time Leslie realized that Polly was a distraction, it was too late. Summer was bounding onto shore, dripping wet, the ring held high.
“That was beautiful,” Kip murmured. “Damn, she’s hot. Serious spank material.”
Ugh. “Down, boy,” I told him. “You don’t want wood in the challenge.”
“I’m fine,” he said, but then adjusted himself.
I rolled my eyes.
“Summer and Polly win,” Chip declared, raising both hands in the air. One point for their team.”
As the two teams headed back to the lineup, someone took the golden ring from Summer and handed it off to a man in scuba gear, who disappeared under the water in the roped-off challenge portion of the beach. A few moments later, he resurfaced and gave a thumbs up. The challenge was prepped again.
“Team Eight and Team Five.”
Kip and I versus the male/male team of firefighters? I didn’t like these odds. We stepped toward the starting line and I leaned toward Kip, whispering. “You distract them and I’ll swim out, okay?”
My partner was many things, but stupid at competitions wasn’t one of them. He nodded and hunched forward, readying himself.
I leaned forward too…and a wave of titters broke from the group behind us. Were they laughing at my flat butt? Humiliation burned, but there was nothing to be done. I ignored it and concentrated on the water, waiting for the go.
“Go!”
I dashed for the water as fast as I could, Kip at my side. If we could get to the water before the firefighters, we’d have a chance. They were both twice my size; I’d never win against either in a wrestling match…and I didn’t particularly want to wrestle anyone while naked and sunburned.
Even though we ran as fast as we could, we barely made it to the water a step ahead of the other team. I flung myself into the water, and when it was waist high, began to swim.
A hand caught my ankle, dragging me down. I kicked hard, and was quickly released, but another body surged ahead of me. I surfaced, caught a breath, and clawed at the water. Now one of the firefighters was ahead of me, and I grabbed one of his kicking legs, giving him the same treatment he gave me. His foot connected with my stomach and I gagged and hung on as he splashed and flailed against me.
Someone grabbed me from behind and dunked me, and again, I went under, water shooting up my nose. I struggled back to the surface, choking on salt-water and surrounded by clawing hands and feet. One hand accidentally touched my boob, and the firefighter - Saul? - gave an alarmed little shriek. “Sorry! Sorry!”
“Grab her,” his partner said.
“I’m trying not to touch her in bad places,” the other man said.
If I didn’t have a lungful of water, I would have laughed at the dismay in his voice. Instead, I coughed and sputtered and continued to try and wrestle out of the grasp of both men as they tried to prevent me from heading toward the ring.
Someone splashed past, and I watched Jerry pull away, trying to grab someone running away with the golden ring. Kip! Yes! I wrapped my arms around Jerry, trying to prevent him from catching Kip, and while I held the two burly firefighters in place, my partner sprinted toward the finish line.
Cameras readied. I brushed the sand off of one foot at a time and put my shoes on. When I straightened, Chip was in place, his makeup so thick I could see it from where I stood. He checked his reflection in a hand-held mirror and then tucked it into his pocket, then studied us as we stood on the line. “How’s everyone handling their time on the island? Got fire? Shelter?” He turned to the two athletic women, who were as stunningly, disgustingly flab-free. “Summer?”
“Shelter, but we’re struggling with fire,” she admitted, looking at her partner.
“What about you, Jendan?” He turned to Hotness.
Jendan. That was his name. I tasted it on my mouth, then shook my head at my own silliness. Not here to lust after guys. Not even if they were incredibly hot and incredibly, ahem, hung.
“Same,” he said briefly, looking over at his partner. “We’re not used to roughing it on an island.”
“Some of our contestants are, though. Let’s hear from a returning Endurance Island player,” Chip said, his gaze scanning down the line until it rested on our team. “Kip, how are things at your camp?”
“They’re great, Chip,” Kip said easily. “Annabelle and I have things under control. Water. Shelter, you name it, we’ve got it.”
I kept my mouth pressed shut, though I wanted to laugh hysterically at Kip’s answer. What was the point in bluffing? To pretend that we were strong? The moment we fumbled in the challenge like the others, they’d know the truth - we were just as exhausted and hungry as the others.
Also, what was this ‘we’ crap? If there was any level of comfort around camp, it was because I’d been working my butt off while Kip lounged and moped about his sunburned dick.
“Well, with that, let’s get to today’s challenge.” Chip clapped his hands together and rubbed them, as if anticipating an exciting show. “You’re going to be participating in footraces against each other. Teams will be randomly selected, and when I say go, both teams will head out into the swimming area.” He pointed at the beach behind him. “In the water are colored buoys. Under each buoy is a golden ring, tied to rope. There is only one ring and two teams competing for that ring. Your job is to find that ring and bring it back. If the other team has the ring, you need to get it from them. The first one to cross the finish line with the ring gets a point for their team. The last two teams to score three points will be nominated for Judgment.”
I peered at the waves. Sure enough, there was a colored ball bobbing about halfway between the shore and the boats where the camera crews waited for the challenge.
“Everyone understand the rules?” At our silence, Chip pointed. “Good. I don’t need to remind you about the physical rules of Endurance Island, then. No punching, hitting, kicking, drowning, eye-gouging, etc.”
My eyes widened and I looked down the line. Last season, the challenges had been almost wimpy. We’d never had any sort of full-contact challenge. I was a little unnerved, considering I was one of the smaller, softer girls on the beach.
“Ready to play? Then, Team Three versus Team Seven. You’re up.”
Summer and Polly (their names written across their collarbones and shoulders) strode forward, high-fiving each other. Leslie and Emilio looked less certain as they moved forward, and I didn’t blame them. Summer and Polly were clearly in amazing shape. I sure didn’t want to go up against them. Both teams moved to the starting line and crouched, which gave those of us on the far end of the beach a display of four pairs of sun-reddened asses. Someone snickered.
“Go!” Chip yelled.
All four people raced forward, splashing into the challenge area. As I watched, Summer took an early lead, swimming out. Instead of chasing after her partner, Polly turned and tackled Emilio in the water, pushing him under. Leslie gave a bellow of anger, and instead of chasing after Summer, she tackled Polly, trying to pull her off of her partner. The three thrashed in the water, and as I watched, Summer easily swam out to the buoy, dove, came up with the Frisbee-sized ring, and began to splash her way back to shore. By the time Leslie realized that Polly was a distraction, it was too late. Summer was bounding onto shore, dripping wet, the ring held high.
“That was beautiful,” Kip murmured. “Damn, she’s hot. Serious spank material.”
Ugh. “Down, boy,” I told him. “You don’t want wood in the challenge.”
“I’m fine,” he said, but then adjusted himself.
I rolled my eyes.
“Summer and Polly win,” Chip declared, raising both hands in the air. One point for their team.”
As the two teams headed back to the lineup, someone took the golden ring from Summer and handed it off to a man in scuba gear, who disappeared under the water in the roped-off challenge portion of the beach. A few moments later, he resurfaced and gave a thumbs up. The challenge was prepped again.
“Team Eight and Team Five.”
Kip and I versus the male/male team of firefighters? I didn’t like these odds. We stepped toward the starting line and I leaned toward Kip, whispering. “You distract them and I’ll swim out, okay?”
My partner was many things, but stupid at competitions wasn’t one of them. He nodded and hunched forward, readying himself.
I leaned forward too…and a wave of titters broke from the group behind us. Were they laughing at my flat butt? Humiliation burned, but there was nothing to be done. I ignored it and concentrated on the water, waiting for the go.
“Go!”
I dashed for the water as fast as I could, Kip at my side. If we could get to the water before the firefighters, we’d have a chance. They were both twice my size; I’d never win against either in a wrestling match…and I didn’t particularly want to wrestle anyone while naked and sunburned.
Even though we ran as fast as we could, we barely made it to the water a step ahead of the other team. I flung myself into the water, and when it was waist high, began to swim.
A hand caught my ankle, dragging me down. I kicked hard, and was quickly released, but another body surged ahead of me. I surfaced, caught a breath, and clawed at the water. Now one of the firefighters was ahead of me, and I grabbed one of his kicking legs, giving him the same treatment he gave me. His foot connected with my stomach and I gagged and hung on as he splashed and flailed against me.
Someone grabbed me from behind and dunked me, and again, I went under, water shooting up my nose. I struggled back to the surface, choking on salt-water and surrounded by clawing hands and feet. One hand accidentally touched my boob, and the firefighter - Saul? - gave an alarmed little shriek. “Sorry! Sorry!”
“Grab her,” his partner said.
“I’m trying not to touch her in bad places,” the other man said.
If I didn’t have a lungful of water, I would have laughed at the dismay in his voice. Instead, I coughed and sputtered and continued to try and wrestle out of the grasp of both men as they tried to prevent me from heading toward the ring.
Someone splashed past, and I watched Jerry pull away, trying to grab someone running away with the golden ring. Kip! Yes! I wrapped my arms around Jerry, trying to prevent him from catching Kip, and while I held the two burly firefighters in place, my partner sprinted toward the finish line.
