Chapter Nine

Holy crap. I totally did not mean for that to happen. But at the same time… I don't regret it. Not in the slightest.—Dean Woodall, Day 16

I woke up to the delicious feeling of a broad chest against my back, an arm locked around my waist, and a pillow under my head. In fact, it felt so wonderful I didn't want to open my eyes.

"I can tell you're awake," Dean whispered against the back of my head. "You're twitching."

With a groan, I flipped over and burrowed against his chest, trying to hide from the sunny, too-bright world. "If I wake up, that means we have to go back."

He laughed at that, and I felt the rumbles in his chest through my own body. Dean's hand had slid to my hip where my sarong had bunched up high on my legs. He was rubbing the exposed skin there with slow, smooth circles, as if he couldn't resist touching me. My face grew hot as I recalled—whoever had left us the sarongs had not left us matching underwear.

But I didn't feel the urge to move, or to push Dean's hands away. I remembered the shower last night and our explosive, frantic sex. That had been the most singularly awesome sexual experience I'd ever had, but I wasn't sure how to initiate it again. My eyes slid open and all I could see was the lean, darkly tanned muscles of Dean's torso. He'd lost so much weight in two weeks that his six-pack was etched and defined, and some of the bulk of his body was gone. Not that it made him unattractive—not by a long shot.

His breath fanned slowly on my hair, my head tucked under his chin. His hand continued to move in the soft, stroking motion, sliding up and down the swell of my hip and buttock. I looked down at my bare hip, the blankets around our thighs, and gave a small sigh at the sight. "I'm getting bony."

"You're beautiful. Always have been."

My breath caught in my throat at that, warmth flooding through me, and I suddenly wanted him very much again. With gentle fingers, I slid my hand out from where it was tucked against my own body and brushed the taut skin over his abdomen. Inviting him.

Dean's mouth pressed against my forehead, and he gave me a soft kiss, his lips grazing my hairline before moving lower. His fingers that had been stroking my hip grew possessive, clenching me toward him, and my eyes flew to his when a hot, naked erection prodded my stomach through the thin sarong. "You're not dressed?"

He shook his head at me, a slow, sensuous smile curving his mouth. "You're hardly dressed yourself." As if to prove this point, his hand slid up my bare hip, pressing the loose sarong further up my body, exposing my backside. His hand skimmed the curve of my lower back, exploring. "No panties," he said, leaning in to press another gentle kiss on my face, this time on my eyebrow.

It seemed we'd decided to have a slow, languid mutual exploration of bodies, and I was certainly game for that. My hand slid across his abdomen to his side, to the ridge of hard muscle where his thigh met his groin. Only men in the most incredible shape seemed to have that sort of muscle ridge, and I'd never seen one before on anyone I'd slept with. I was fascinated with his body. "You must work out a lot back home," I whispered, skimming that fascinating part of his body with my fingernail.

He chuckled at that, burying his face in my hair. "I guess you could say that," he said, his voice muffled. Before I could ask what was so funny, he kissed my face again, pressing small, light kisses on my cheekbone, my ear, my nose, my chin, before moving to my lips and continuing the same light, fluttery presses that made me tremble. I lay still under his ministrations for several long minutes as he gently kissed every inch of my face, his hand kneading my backside and making my entire body quiver.

When I could stand being still no longer, I lifted my leg and wrapped it around his hips, pulling his body closer to mine. I sought his mouth with my own, my hands moving to his hair and wrapping in the tousled, sleepy cowlicks. Dean made a low, hungry noise in the back of his throat and his tongue met mine in a quick plunge. We kissed, a melding of tongues and lips, slow strokes mixed with fast, quick ones, the taste of him warm on my mouth, his body fitting against my own.

The hand that caressed my backside grew possessive again, and Dean clenched me against him, pulling my hips against his hard cock and letting me feel the length of it against the cradle of my sex. I whimpered into his mouth at the sensation, and he only groaned harder, moving me onto my back and rolling atop me, his hips sliding against my own. His leg nudged between mine, and I suddenly found myself with my legs spread wide underneath him, his cock resting against my mound with scorching heat, his mouth devouring my own. Excited by that, I raised my hips slightly, bucking against him in a suggestive manner.

"Oh Jeezus, Abby. God help me when you do that," Dean said hoarsely against my mouth, his hand sliding over my torso frantically.

In response, I swirled my hips against his again. "Don't tell me what to do, Dean. You know I'll just prove you wrong," I teased and nipped against his bottom lip.

He groaned again, sliding down my body slightly to rest his head on my sarong-covered stomach. He bit at the fabric, at my flat stomach underneath, and then slid down further, bunching the fabric up around my waist as he went.

"Dean," I squeaked, shifting as his breath fanned hot on the most intimate part of my body. "Are you sure you want to…" My voice trailed off. I wasn't used to oral sex for me before I went down on my partner. Normally it was the other way around—I'd give out a dozen blowjobs long before my date would ever think of reciprocating. Not to mention, other than the shower last night, I'd been the most unkempt I'd ever been in my life. The urge to cross my legs was strong—but that would have trapped Dean's shoulders right where he wanted them.

In response to my worries, Dean licked the seam of my thigh, and a full-body, delicious shudder went through me. "You okay, Abby? Do you want me to stop?"

I sure didn't. My fingers twined in his messy hair and I let my legs slide open bonelessly. "Hell no. Don't stop."

Dean chuckled, and the sound whispered across sensitive skin, and I sucked in a breath again. "You want me to keep going?" His thumb moved down my slit, and I bit my lip to keep from gasping. And when I gave him no response to his touch, he moved in. His mouth, hot and wet, found the sensitive bud of my clit, and I was lost. My entire body shuddered with every tongue flick, with every sucking motion, every rasp of his tongue.

Hips bucking in time with the swirl of his mouth, my legs began to tense with the onset of a powerful orgasm, and I panicked and began to pull away, self-conscious. In response to that, Dean locked his hands around me and pushed back, tonguing me so hard I swore I felt it down to my bones. With a gasping cry, I came in his arms, shudders wracking me as he continued to lap at me as if I were his breakfast and he had all the time in the world.

"Oh my god," I breathed, unable to resist rotating my hips with his mouth one more time.

"Call me Dean," he teased, sliding back up over me and grinning as if he'd just been the one to fall to pieces, not me. His hand smoothed up and down over my hip, sliding into my sarong to tickle the tip of my breast. "Ready for round two, or do you need a breather?"

I gave him a puzzled look. "Why would I need a breather?"

The expression on Dean's face was downright innocent. "Shanna told me you weren't in great shape and I—"

My fists flew at him and I laughed, even as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me toward him. I went easily, linking my arms around his neck and moving in for another deep kiss. I could taste myself on his mouth, a salty tang. "You are the sweetest thing, Abby. Like you were dipped in honey."

It was a terribly corny line. Sweet, but corny. I still fell for it. With a wicked grin, I gave him a push, indicating he should lie back on the bed. Dean did so, trying to pull me over him, but I wiggled away, pressing my palms on his chest to hold him down. "My turn." I slid down his body.

Dean froze under me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he went over our conversation, trying to figure out if he'd suggested that I reciprocate on him. "Abby," he began, then licked his lips, his breath coming out in a little pant. "I didn't mean… you don't have to…"

"I know," I said, sliding down until I straddled his calves. "Now shut up." I leaned forward, the tips of my breasts brushing against the hair on his legs. Dean groaned low in his throat, his hand sliding to my hair and twining there. Not pushing my head toward his cock, but a simple gesture of need. It was something I wanted to do, though—I wanted to drive him crazy as much as he'd driven me, and so I knelt over him, letting my hair fall against the thick length of his cock. His skin smelled musky so close to mine, and the scent of it sent a ripple through my body.

I grasped him in my hand, testing his heavy length. Hot and rigid, his cock was a sheath of silk over firm muscle, and I leaned over, fascinated, to dip my tongue against the head of it.

Dean groaned loudly, his hips jerking.

My, that was encouraging. I smiled at that—what fun. Slowly, languidly, as if I were licking an ice cream, I teased the head of his cock. Small, teasing licks. Deep, sensual licks. Playful, swirling licks. Drops of wetness appeared on the head, and I licked those off as well, then circled my thumb against the tip of his cock while I laved up and down the thick length.

His fist in my hair grew tighter as the minutes passed. "Jesus, Abby," he groaned at one point. "Have mercy."

"I have none," I teased, nipping lightly at the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Gently, with my lips and tongue alone. Then, with slow, languid motions, I circled the base of it with my fingers and slid my mouth over the rest of it, taking the length of him deep into my mouth.

"Christ," he exploded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me off of him. I laughed until he tossed me underneath him, sliding my hips apart, and I thought he was going to plunge into me right then and there, and my breath caught in my throat. But he only pushed me down onto the bed and pressed a kiss to my mouth. "Wait here," he said against my lips, and I squirmed on the bed, waiting, as he disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a condom.

And then he was down over my body again and kissing my face and neck as the condom crinkled between our bodies, and I watched him roll it down over his cock. He leaned in for one last kiss before nudging the head of his cock against my sex, then sinking in deeply. I sucked in a deep breath even as he growled above me, hands grasping my hips sharply as he pulled back and then plunged again.

"Sexy little Abby in her pink bikini," he said in a low, growly voice even as he thrust again. "Thank god you picked me again. It would have been a real shame—" A hard, rocking thrust— " if you never showed me that sweet little body of yours." Another rough thrust, one that made my breath catch in my throat.

I gave him a throaty laugh, my hips rising to meet each thrust, legs locked around his waist. "You're the one… that walked into my shower… remember?"

He grinned at that and gave me another slow, rocking thrust and leaned forward, stretching my legs wide as he leaned in to kiss me. "I surely do," he drawled, taking my ankle and hooking it behind his neck and thrusting again with that slow, sensuous motion that was going to twist me into one big orgasmic knot. Again he thrust, and again, and my body arched slightly higher with each silken stroke. And when one of his hands that had been gripping my hip slipped free and sought the damp curls of my sex, I moaned his name and dug my fingernails into his shoulder as I came, trembling. After that, Dean seemed to lose all control, thrusting relentlessly into my body until he was racked by shudders as well, a hoarse shout on his lips as he came, collapsing over me.

I pressed a kiss to his scratchy face with its two-week growth of dark blond beard. "Think we can stay here forever?"

He chuckled at that, propping up on his elbows so he didn't crush me under his weight and brushing a damp lock of hair off of my forehead. "We can't stay here. If we don't go back, we don't win the money."

Oh yes, the money. I made a face against the warm heat of his chest wall. The money that the producers would make sure that I would not get. The money that was Dean's driving urge to be here. For some reason, that made me a little sad—the others had seemed greedy and driven, but for some reason I'd held Dean to a different standard. I shrugged my shoulders against his damp body, listening to the racing of his heart as it slowed down. I hadn't given the money much thought in the past few days—my mind was consumed with the blond god that I shared my beach with.

"Besides," he whispered against my forehead, pressing a kiss to my eyebrow, "if we don't get up now, we don't get to eat our breakfast."

I jumped at that, wriggling out from underneath him and straightening my sarong. It had fallen apart on me, and I rewrapped it as I moved toward the door. "Breakfast?"

Dean laughed behind me. "Thrown over for pancakes and bacon. Figures."

"Oh my god, they have bacon?" I squealed, running forward. "Bacon and showers. I'm the luckiest girl ever."

"And a hot guy in your bed," Dean prompted, moving to pick a sausage link up off the table and closing his eyes with delight at the taste. "Okay, never mind—the food is better than sex."

I laughed, grabbing one of the pancakes—no syrup—and waving it at him. "You're just saying that because you want me to stuff a couple of pancakes down my bra."

His eyes lit up at the same time mine did.

***

After one more quick shower and a hasty re-dressing, the production crew knocked on our door. I moved slowly after Dean as they led us back to the helicopter, my bra stuffed with pancakes and a makeshift napkin-padded baggy of cold sausage and cheeses down the front of my bikini bottom. It was kind of disgusting if you sat and thought about it, but when you were starving, you did what you had to do—and that included sneaking food back to the island in your panties. Luckily, my sarong was heavily wrinkled and voluminous and hid everything.

I felt a keen sense of disappointment when the boat pulled up to shore and our camp came into view. I didn't want to go back—back to biting bugs and sand in everything and no showers and starving. But Dean squeezed my hand as we got off the boat, and I followed behind him because I wasn't quite ready to leave him just yet, either. No matter how much of a knee-jerk reaction I had to returning to the island.

A cameraman circled nearby as we trudged back to our beach, me with my arm crossed over my chest to keep my pancakes in place, my other hand still firmly latched into Dean's. To my surprise, two people sat at our camp on our chairs (well, logs that passed as chairs). "Are they filming?" I asked Dean, squinting my eyes. I couldn't see cameras with them. The sun was high in the sky, nearly blinding me, but I couldn't raise my arm to shield my eyes or I'd risk losing my pancakes.

His steps slowed in front of me, to the point that I almost ran into his back. "It's Lana… and Leon, judging by the tattoos."

Lana and… Leon? I felt a surge of disappointment, though I kept it out of my voice. "Oh? What about Will?"

"I don't see him." Dean didn't sound thrilled either, but his voice remained even, and he raised a hand to wave at them, even as he spoke to me. "Did you hide the peanut butter before we left?"

"Yeah—I buried it. Just in case."

He glanced back at me and touched my cheek. "Good girl." He seemed as if he wanted to do more, but then Dean released my hand and put his hands on my shoulders, his gaze flicking to my sarong. "Still got the food?"

I nodded.

"Still trust me?" He searched my face, a little anxious. "Because you're not going to like my suggestion."

I gave him a faint smile. "This involves our pancakes, doesn't it?"

Dean winked at me, and my heart sank when he said, "If we share with Lana, it'll cement our alliance. I'll buy you pancakes every morning if one of us wins the millions."

Yeah, but only one of us could win and it wasn't going to be me. Still, I was full from dinner and the breakfast this morning, and Lana was starting to look downright bony. I wouldn't have been able to eat in front of her anyhow. So I just gave Dean's hand a squeeze and nodded.

We approached the others and Lana gave a happy squeal of delight at the sight of us, extending her arms out and crossing the beach to hug us. "Dean! Abby! Look at you both! You're so clean!"

Leon followed a few steps behind her, clearly not as comfortable, but willing to fake it. He held a hand out to Dean and they shook, clapping each other on the shoulder in a warm greeting. Lana hugged me and when Leon moved forward to do the same, I took a step backward and began to fish the pancakes out of my top.

"Abby brought food back for you," Dean explained, glancing over at me. "She smuggled it in."

Lana's hands flew to her head. "Oh my god." Her eyes went wide. "You're kidding me. Food?"

I pulled out the pancakes and handed two to her, the other two to Leon. It was a little bizarre, since the pancakes were still warm from being cradled against my skin. "This is the only way we could think to smuggle them out," I said, but my words fell on deaf ears. Both Lana and Leon had crammed their mouths full before I could even finish the sentence.

Of course, if I'd been in their position, I'd probably have done the same thing. What was a little body rubbing when you were starving?

I thought their eyes were going to roll out of their heads when I reached under my sarong and pulled out the second package—sausage links and cold bacon, quadruple-wrapped in fabric napkins from the table.

"Was that where I think it was?" Leon asked in-between bites of pancake.

"I wrapped it nice and tight, so it's not like it really touched me," I said, pulling the fabric layers away to demonstrate.

"If you guys don't want to eat it, I will. I certainly don't mind where it's been," Dean offered.

For some reason, that made my face flare bright red, and I averted my eyes as Lana's gaze widened on me, then flicked back to Dean, then back to me again.

The last of the food was divvied up, and Dean and I watched as Lana and Leon made short work of the remaining sausages and cheese. When the food was gone, Lana licked her fingertip and retrieved every crumb from the bag, and we laughed at the sight. Strangely enough, that small bit of food bonded us, and there were smiles on all of our faces by the time Lana finished up and gave one final sigh.

"Why don't you guys go and grab some more water?" Lana suggested. "Abby and I will stoke up the fire."

Leon gave Lana a meaningful look and then turned and clapped Dean on the back. "Sounds good to me. You want to show me where your well is, just in case?"

"Just in case of what?" I retorted, but Lana linked her arm in mine and began to drag me back to camp. I cast a helpless look at Dean, but he winked at me and clapped Leon on the back, and they left camp. They headed down the beach, their heads together in discussion. Dean's hands waved as if he were measuring something, and I guessed that the conversation was all about food. Figured.

Lana seemed rather quiet as she prodded the fire, but that wasn't so unusual. I slunk down on one of the logs that passed as a bench and sighed. Already I missed the beach house.

She cast a sly glance over at me. "So how was it?"

I propped my chin up on my fist and grinned. "The reward? It was really nice."

"No, I meant sleeping with Dean. How was it?"

I sucked in a breath, not expecting that. Had we been so obvious? We weren't holding hands when we got off the boat, and it's not like we'd kissed each other. I thought we were being fairly normal in front of them. "I'm not sure what you mean," I began.

Lana snorted at my hedging. "You blush every time you look at him now. And he looks at you like you're his property. He didn't look at you that way before. Wasn't hard to guess."

"Nothing happened," I protested.

"Was there alcohol? I'd have guessed that the producers tried to set up a romantic interlude. Easy to do when you're drunk."

I clamped my jaws shut and refused to answer, staring hard at the sorry fire. Lana still couldn't make a fire quite like I could. I took one of the sticks and adjusted the heavy log on top to allow more air to get to the coals beneath.

"Oh, Abby," she said in a disappointed voice. "He's playing for two million dollars, girlfriend. Don't make more of this than it is. He's just using you because you're a vote for him."

"That's not what it was like," I said stiffly. A small, angry part of me was horrified that she'd even think that I was stupid enough to fall for something like that. Or worse yet, that no one could possibly be interested in me for me, just for what I could do for him. She hadn't been there. "You don't know Dean like I do."

Her smile was wry and a bit sad as she came to sit next to me on the log. She nudged me with her elbow. "So tell me, then. Tell me what you know about him that's different from what I know."

My mouth went dry. "He doesn't have a girlfriend—"

"That he told you about," she interjected smoothly. "Guys will say anything to get laid."

I threw my hands up in the air. "Why am I bothering to explain anything to you? You're determined to think he's a sleazeball and I'm an idiot, right? So it doesn't matter what I say at this point."

She grabbed my hand and dragged it back down, then squeezed it to get my attention. "Hey, hey. I'm just trying to be the big sister looking out for you."

"That's ironic," I said in a sulky tone. "I probably weigh double what you do."

"And you're about a foot taller," she agreed.

A smile touched the edges of my mouth and I buried my head in my hands. "Oh god, I hope I didn't make a stupid mistake. I really, really like him."

"If he's half the guy you say he is and you like him, go for it." Her tiny hand patted me on the back. "I could be wrong about this kind of thing. You never know."

I desperately hoped she was.

"Besides," she continued. "Look at it this way. As long as you're sucking his dick, you'll have his vote if he makes it to the jury before you do."

"Lana!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." She chuckled and gave me a hug. "Man, who'd have thought that your team would be the one to hook up? I totally did not call that."

"Me either," I agreed, shaking my head. "It just kind of happened, you know?"

"That's usually how things go," she agreed, digging her toes in the sand next to my own. "I'm not going to say anything to Leon, though."

Relief shot through me. "Thanks."

"Nothing to it. I've pulled him into our little alliance, but as far as he knows, Will isn't part of it. It's just you, me, and Dean. Now we're four strong, but Will is with us. And when we get to the merge, we'll have control." Her eyes gleamed in a predatory way. "And we can pick them all off and waltz right to the millions."