Page 17 of Taking the Heat

The gong sounded, and he stalked towards me, like a big cat approaching his prey. Moving behind me, he murmured in my ear, ‘I’m sorry. I can’t resist you.’

I felt his fingers before they made contact. There was heat, then a crackle, and they softly landed on my hair. Sweeping down, inch by inch, he curved his hand behind my ear and trailed along the nape of my neck.

Pleasure streaked from every nerve ending. Wherever he touched, my skin seared and the urge to whimper grew stronger.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, sweeping his thumb softly over my delicate lower lip.

‘I’m sorry.’ He traced the lines of my cheek.

‘I’m sorry.’ The pads of his fingers pressed against the beating pulse at the join of my collarbone.

I was doing so well. The only thing I couldn’t control was the growing dampness between my thighs, and my hard nipples, poking out through the sheer fabric of my kaftan.

But I couldn’t hold out forever. I needed to move. I needed to grab him, press my mouth to his, breathe him in, taste him. I wanted to grind on his thigh like a horny teenager and feel his tongue in my mouth. Not helping!

I was just about to break when a ‘Fuck you!’ rang out from further down the line.

‘Clara is out! The winner of the first Erotic Island fantasy cabin key is … Tara!’

The camera crew swept in close and everyone else followed, clapping me on the shoulder, congratulating me. I sat, still unable to move, my body aflame from Chris’ fingers.

He stood behind the others, longing on his face. I realised I couldn’t keep fighting this. I might never be able to forgive Chris for nearly costing me a chance at a million dollars and the ability to save Ella, but I would have to give in to the pheromones raging between us.

‘Alright, lads! The shoe is now on the other foot! Please take your seats, and ladies … it’s your turn!’

Girlish squeals filled the air as the tables turned. I knew exactly who I would be claiming.

Chris lowered gingerly in his chair, as if something was making it hard for him to sit comfortably(ahem …)and I planted myself directly in front of him.Oh, I will enjoy this.Chris, unable to move, and me giving myself permission to grope him openly. Thirty seconds of perfect.

The countdown began, and we stared at each other, open lust filling the space between us. The second the gong rang out, I straddled Chris’ lap, slipping my fingers under his tight shirt and running my nails down his rippling stomach.

Chris lasted about two seconds before grabbing me, leaning me back and kissing me full on the lips.

Chapter 7

(Producer, off camera:Tara? Tara, then what happened?)

Hmm?

(Chris kissed you?)

Mmm …

(Can you tell us what that was like?)

Sorry, what? Yes, I’m back. Um, yeah, the kiss.Mmm …

(Tara?)

Okay, yes, dammit, give me a second! Sorry, sorry, it’s just … I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything like that before.

(Like what?)

Like the whole world went silent and ceased to exist. Like there was only him and me, and nothing beyond that.

From the second our lips connected, everything else fell away. Chris’ hands were in my hair and mine cupped his stubbly chin for balance. If he wasn’t holding me so tightly, I would have simply fallen off his lap in a quivering mess—my head was spinning around the way it does after one too many vodkas.

He smelled of coffee and sun-soaked skin, and I opened my mouth to the kiss, breathing him in more. As he leaned into me, I could hear him moaning, low and sweet, and the sound caused my belly and thighs to clench.

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