Body Games

  It was a delicious kind of torture, really.

  The more we vowed to be platonic, the more we toed the line. We didn’t kiss. We just touched. And talked. And imagined what it would be like after the game, when we’d have all the time in the world to explore each other.

  Nights were the worst. Okay, they were really the best, but they tried my resolve pretty hard. As soon as dusk hit, we’d crawl into bed together, under the blanket, and just explore each other’s bodies. Not in any particular erogenous zones - he’d yet to touch my breasts or my sex, and I hadn’t touched his cock - but we’d just stroke arms and legs and necks and hands and feet. I learned all the spots that Jendan was ticklish at, and he learned that I wasn’t ticklish at all, much to his disappointment. He’d give my shoulders a good rub instead, and that always made me boneless with delight.

  We had to keep the touching under the blankets, though. The moment Jendan touched me, my nipples would get hard and I could feel my pussy get wet with need. And when we pressed our bodies together, however platonically, I could feel the thick, hard length of his erection against my skin. We were constantly aroused by the other’s presence, but it was an unspoken sort of agreement that we’d do nothing to alleviate that arousal.

  And we talked. Lordy, we talked. There was no subject we left unturned, from stories of how we’d both lost our virginity (him: prom; me: homecoming, under the bleachers), our childhoods growing up, and old relationships that hadn’t worked out. I told him about my last time in the game and how Kip had used me, and how stupid I’d felt afterward because I thought I’d been in love. He told me about playing House Guests, and the supposedly haunted house they’d left them in, and the other players.

  We talked about everything under the sun, and we laughed and joked and had a wonderful time.

  Despite being hungry and dirty and naked and in a state of constant, unfulfilled arousal? I’d say it was the best week of my life.

  It was getting more difficult to keep things pristine for the cameras, though. I’d stroke my hands down Jendan’s thigh, pleased to hear his muffled groan, only to see a microphone appear overhead and a cameraman show up nearby, filming.

  That killed my ardor pretty quick, every damn time.

  We still nailed it in challenges, too. Not only did we work well together on the beach, but we worked well together when things came down to the wire. We narrowly missed out on one food challenge, and won another (pineapple and ham pizza). And the Judgment challenges continued to whittle down the playing field. Rusty was the next one to go, an auto-elimination once he was nominated for Judgment and lost, becoming the first member of the jury. His poor wife Kissy wept copiously when he left, as if her heart was breaking. I felt sorry for her, but I reminded myself it was just a game, no matter how heart-wrenching her sobs.

  Really, though, things were going perfectly. I had an amazing partner, we kicked butt in challenges, and we were eating a little every day. We’d even made the jury. Things were pretty awesome on Blue Team’s beach.

  Which meant that something was bound to go wrong, right?

  ~~ *** ~~

  “Welcome to today’s Judgment challenge,” Chip said as we lined up on our colored mats.

  There were only four teams left. The yellow team was completely gone, which left Red, Blue, Green, and Purple. Of those teams left, I was pretty sure we could destroy them all in a physical challenge of any kind.

  Which was why it alarmed me when I saw the long, narrow table set up in the challenge area. I gave Jendan a worried look. We’d been eating well the last week or so, but I knew my partner still got squeamish when it came to gutting fish. I did all the fish cleaning to spare him.

  For a big, brawny, muscular guy, Jendan had the stomach of a sickly pre-teen.

  I buried my worries, crossing my arms over my breasts and keeping my attention focused on Chip. Maybe I was just thinking worst case scenario. There could be any number of challenges that had to deal with a long, waist high table.

  A fleet of production assistants moved to the table, setting covered silver platters in eight spots. Something pungent tickled my nostrils.

  Oh dear.

  “For today’s Judgment,” Chip began, an unholy look of glee on his face, “You will be partaking in a number of traditional Fijian dishes.”

  Hell. I looked over at Jendan. My partner had gone pale and swallowed hard.

  “You can do this,” I murmured. I reached for his hand and laced my fingers with his, then gave him an encouraging squeeze.

  He nodded, but the look on his face didn’t fill me with confidence.

  “For each round,” Chip continued, walking down the length of the long tables. “Each person will have a dish presented to them. They must consume all of the dish. If you do not finish your dish, you are out. If you throw up your dish, you are out.” He gestured at the covered trays. “There are eight places here, but only five will move on to the next round of eating. The first two teams to lose both partners will be heading to Judgment. Does everyone understand?”

  I began to sweat a little. Jendan could do this. He could. He should be hungry, I told myself. We hadn’t eaten breakfast today because we’d been unable to catch anything in the ocean to eat. If he was hungry enough, this wouldn’t be so bad.

  And if he was awful at it, I’d just have to eat enough for both of us.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You should have seen those things. Eyes, man. They still had eyes. Ugh. I get queasy just thinking about it right now.” — Jendan Abercrombie, Day 23, Endurance Island: Power Players

  “Everyone line up at their places,” Chip announced.

  I gave Jendan’s hand an encouraging little squeeze before we stepped up to the table. He gave me a worried look, and then his gaze focused on his plate. Mine did too, and I tried to imagine the horrors underneath there. Kip stepped up next to me, and as I looked over at him, he smirked and licked his lips.

  My heart sank a little. Kip never had trouble with these sorts of challenges.

  Chip spoke again. “When I say go, I want everyone to remove their lids. You must finish everything but the containers,” Chip instructed. “Three…two…one…go!”

  I scrambled to pull the lid off of my plate, pushing it aside and examining the revealed items. There was a great big white bowl in front of me, and in the bowl were what looked like teeny tiny clusters of green grapes. They looked like caviar, almost. The bowl was brimming full of them, too, and I was dismayed at the sheer amount of food in it. Next to the bowl was a coconut half, and in the coconut was something that looked like dirty dishwater.

  Ewww.

  “For the first course,” Chip said. “A Fijian staple called nama - or sea-grapes. In the cup is kava, a traditional alcoholic drink.”

  I picked up one cluster of sea grapes and popped it into my mouth. A dozen tiny little squirting explosions hit, and I mentally winced - it was like biting into a bunch of bubbles filled with sea water. Gross. I chewed, trying not to think about it, and blanched when grains of sand crunched between my teeth. Wrinkling my nose, I reached for the drink, took a swig, and blanched again. Not only did it look like dirty dishwater, but it tasted like it, too. Now there was even more grit in my mouth.

  Gross, but not so bad.

  I looked over to see how Jendan was faring. My partner was pale, his throat working hard. He reached for his drink - the kava - and grimaced. If it was possible, he got even paler. Not good.

  I swallowed, grimacing at the briny, bitter taste, and then popped another bunch into my mouth. I focused on Jendan instead. If I chewed enthusiastically and tried not to make faces, maybe that would encourage him that it wasn’t so bad.

  He closed his eyes and methodically worked his jaw, chewing vigorously. After a moment, he held his nose and continued to chew.

  Well, whatever worked. At least he was keeping it down. I swallowed another too-salty-too-gritty mouthful and went to work on the next.

  Time passed incredibly slow
ly. By the time I got to the bottom of my bowl, my mouth was dry from the salty flavor, my stomach was feeling a little abused, and the kava was making my tongue numb every time I drank it. I was on my last bite when Chip threw his hands up dramatically. “Kip is done with his food!”

  “Here!” Kissy called, and I looked down the row to see her dump the rest of the kava back in her throat.

  “Kissy’s done with her food! Red team moves on!”

  I looked over at Jendan worriedly. He was eating methodically, but slow. I leaned over the table, looking down the line. Leslie and Emilio were eating slowly too, and Alys was doing better than Jendan, but not by much. I tipped back my head and gulped the rest of the kava, ignoring the grit and the numbness it left behind.

  “Annabelle is done,” Chip crowed.

  I pretended to wipe my mouth as I stepped away from the table. “Go faster, Jendan,” I whispered, then moved to the bench to sit next to Kip and Kissy. Three people down, two more spots to go.

  I clasped my hands together and watched my partner intently. He was trying to eat faster, but I could tell he was struggling. Once you got past the salty squishiness of it and the grit of the sand, it wasn’t that bad. Theoretically. But poor Jendan was looking rather pale as he continued to shove clusters of sea grapes into his mouth, chewing. He’d pause, get extremely quiet, then grab at his drink, and then look just as ill all over again.

  “Alys is finished!” Chip called. “We have one more spot left! You guys need to pick it up!”

  Alys clapped her hands and bounded over to sit next to me on the bench.

  I pressed my hands to my mouth, watching Jendan eat. I couldn’t see anything left in his bowl, but the others left - Saul, Emilio, and Leslie - were trying to eat faster. Please, please, I mentally chanted. Come on, Jendan. It’s just seaweed. You can do this.

  As I watched, utterly tense, Jendan grabbed a huge mouthful and began to choke it down, then grabbed his kava cup and swigged it. His eyes bugged for a moment and his throat worked, and I was sure he was going to throw up. Then he gave his head a little shake and flipped his bowl. “Done!”

  Chip raised his hands again. “Jendan is the last one to move on!”

  I gave a happy squeal of delight and rushed to my partner’s side, flinging my arms around him. I didn’t care that I was pressing my body against his in front of everyone else - I was just so thrilled he’d soldiered through. “Great job!”

  “Just…don’t jostle me too much,” he said faintly.

  I immediately pulled away from him. “Sorry. You did great, though. Really good.”

  He nodded, hands on his hips and took a deep breath.

  “All right,” Chip said as the plates were cleared. “Red team moves on. Blue team moves on. Half of the purple team -Alys - moves on. The green team is eliminated. Alys, if you lose the next round, your team is out. Everyone that’s done, sit down on the bench. Everyone else, let’s go back to the table for round two.”

  “God. Can’t we have five minutes to digest?” Jendan said, sounding a little breathless. “I’m still trying to keep the other shit down.”

  “You can do it,” I encouraged. “It’s not so bad. The worst part is over, I promise.”

  He nodded.

  Five new covered platters were put in front of us. The pungent smell wafted up again, making my stomach churn.

  Under the table, I crossed my fingers that it would be something benign and edible. Come on, Endurance Island.

  “Annnd go!”

  I pulled the lid off of my platter…and stared.

  Something black and sinewy was twisted up in a bowl of liquid. Something with eyeballs and claws and a whole lot of stink.

  “What the fuck is that?” Kip asked, aghast.

  “This is a Fijian delicacy,” Chip said. “Boiled bat.”

  “Mine still has eyes,” Kissy cried out. “We supposed to eat those, too?”

  “Everything but the bones,” Chip agreed. “First three to finish move on.”

  I stared down at my plate, thinking hard. I’d given Jendan a hard time about his stomach but…I did not want to eat this. Two milky, boiled eyeballs stared up at me and I wanted to gag.

  I hesitantly picked it up by one clawed wing, examining it. “Where do you start?”

  Kissy grabbed hers, held it up to her mouth, and crunched into it. Loud.

  I winced.

  Jendan turned around, bent over, and vomited.

  “Jendan’s out,” Chip cried, raising his hands up again in dramatic fashion. “Annabelle needs to move on if Blue Team has a hope of surviving!”

  Shit! I didn’t blame Jendan - hell, I wanted to throw up just looking at the damn thing myself. But I had to do this if we didn’t want to go to Judgment. As I hesitated, Alys and Kip both tore into their bats, wings flying. I had to do this. Had to. I swallowed hard and broke off a wing, wincing when the meat stretched and pulled. Tough. Ew.

  “Sorry, Annabelle,” Jendan murmured as he moved past me to the loser’s bench.

  “S’okay,” I said, and shoved one wing into my mouth before I could think better of it. The taste wasn’t nearly as bad as the smell. Kind of like chicken, if chicken was…really gross. I closed my eyes and pulled the claw out of my mouth, dropping it back in the bowl.

  “Kissy’s finished with hers! She moves on to the next round.”

  I opened my eyes and stared down at the older woman, who was picking at her teeth with a dirty thumbnail. How the hell had she finished so very fast? Next to her, Kip was wolfing his down, and even Alys’s cheeks were pouched out like a squirrel’s as she desperately chewed.

  Frantic, I grabbed the body of the thing and crunched down like I’d seen Kissy do. I couldn’t be last. I couldn’t. But…that was a mistake. I felt tiny bones shatter in my mouth and that overwhelming smell filled my nostrils. My gag reflex kicked in and I choked. The next thing I knew, I was hunched over and vomiting onto the ground.

  “Annabelle is out! The blue team will be going to Judgment with the green team.”

  I heard a few half-hearted cheers from the people at the table as I wiped my mouth. “Can we stop eating?” Alys asked in a wobbly voice. “Please?”

  “Yes. We have our two losing teams,” Chip said proudly. “Let’s all get ready for Judgment.”

  I finally righted myself and gave Jendan an ashamed look. I messed it up for both of us. Now, as I watched the looks flicking back and forth between the other contestants, I suspected we were doomed.

  When I moved to Jendan’s side, he put an arm around my shoulders and hugged me to him again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If I hadn’t lost it, we’d still be in that challenge.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him. “We all have weaknesses. Ours is just…food.”

  I didn’t blame him, either. He had a weak stomach and had still made it to the second round. I prided myself on how hard I was playing, and I still puked like a fool. No one to be blamed but myself, all because I’d rushed.

  We waited in the hot sunlight while the production crews set up the Judgment area. Out came Chip’s podium, the benches, and the bushy greenery that was set up to make it look like an honest-to-goodness jungle set. Off to one side, the voting booth was set up, and camera-men took their places as we sipped water and waited. That was the thing about filming reality TV. On the actual show, it looked instantaneous. Out here, it took them a good hour to set up, and that was an hour that we had to stew on what we’d done wrong.

  It was also an hour in which everyone else got to plot with their partners. I glanced over at Kip and Kissy, and their heads were together, talking low. Ditto Saul and Alys.

  Only two teams could vote this time, so a split vote would mean a tie. If it went to a challenge, I was confident we could beat Leslie and Emilio…as long as we didn’t have to eat anything else. But I had a sinking feeling in my gut. Leslie and Emilio weren’t the strongest team. Emilio was in shape, but Leslie was older, cranky, and tended to be one of the slowest on
es on an obstacle course. Meanwhile, Jendan and I were both fast and strong. Other than this challenge, we’d done well in almost all of them.

  If it was me voting, I’d vote for us because we were more of a threat. Which didn’t fill me with confidence.

  “You look worried,” Jendan said to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and hugging me from behind. Even though we were nude, it didn’t feel weird to me. “It’s going to be okay, whatever happens.”

  “I am worried,” I admitted. “There’s no reason for them to keep us strong.”

  “What about Kip? Will he vote to save you?”

  I looked over at my old partner. Good ol’ Kip. He had a shit-eating grin on his face and kept looking over at me, leering. “Something tells me that’s not going to happen.”

  “Then we’ll go to a challenge,” he said softly. “And may the best man or woman win. I won’t hold it against you if you win. We all have to go at some point, and it’ll be fair and square.”

  Except I had my secret word from Pandora’s Box - kere kere - and I wouldn’t make it fair. I could automatically oust him.

  Or I could just not use it and go head to head with my stronger, more athletic partner. And then I’d go down as the dumbest player on Endurance Island twice in a row.

  I was screwed no matter which way you looked at it.

  “All right,” Chip said, and pointed at the benches next to him for the Judgment nominees. “Everyone take your seats.”

  Jendan and I moved to the bench and I felt awkward sitting in the front instead of in the back. I didn’t like being up for Judgment. Not one bit. It felt intensely vulnerable, and I wondered if this was how Alys had felt with her neck on the chopping block so many times.

  “It’s time for Judgment,” Chip said, clutching the edges of the podium and leaning forward ominously. “Up for nomination are the Blue team and the Green team. We’ll start with the Blue team. Why do you think you struggled so much with this challenge after dominating all the others? Jendan?”

  My partner looked over at me, and then at Chip. He shrugged. “I think our stomachs are used to coconut, taro and water and little else at this point,” he said. “A food challenge should have been awesome, and instead, we just couldn’t keep it down. I know I’m disappointed.”