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I purse my lips. “Just making sure you’re doing it right.”
Fallon leans in close to my ear and says, “Liar.”
The rest of the challenge is a blur. All I can think about is making the best chocolate dessert I can, then getting alone with Fallon as soon as possible.
Tori and Hank, the mother-son duo from New York City, get eliminated, and again I feel sad for them. I realize I’m making friends here—and for the first time in my life, it’s easy.
When we get back to the cabin that night, Fallon wraps his arms around me and kisses me tenderly. “Maybe there’s something to your sex-our-way-to-victory strategy.”
“I told you the logic was sound,” I inform him.
“We should keep testing the theory.” He yanks me by the waistband of my pants, hands already clawing at my clothes. It only takes a few moments for Fallon to get me naked, on my back, and with his tongue between my legs. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be happy to do that every day. But when I try to grab his shirt, he again pushes my hands away, moving to kneel between my legs.
“I want to feel your skin against mine,” I say as he spreads my knees open and fits himself between them.
“My shirt stays on,” Fallon says in a voice that brooks no argument. Before I can ask him about it, though, he’s inside me and all thought flees from my head.
“Okay,” I manage to gasp.
Fallon just gives me that heart-stopping grin and pistons into me again.
Shirt stays on. Got it.
From there, we fall into a hectic routine. Sex in the morning when we wake, showers, and full days of filming. If we don’t come in first place, we’re at least in the middle of the pack. I don’t have to do any more sudden-death challenges, thank goodness. Most evenings, Fallon takes my hand and puts out a plate of nuts and seeds “for our crow overlords.” I’m pretty sure he just does it to see me roll my eyes and break down laughing, because he always searches my face with a gleam in his eyes until I start giggling.
I’m no longer jumpy around birds. Every time I see a black shape in the sky or on a roof eave, I just smile—then I wonder if that was Fallon’s plan all along.
Fallon makes good on his promise to pleasure me with his mouth every single day, always pushing my hands away when I try to undress him, then distracting me with mind-bending orgasms.
The rest of Week Three brings us three bite-sized challenges and one more elimination challenge. We do bite-sized challenges that involve macarons, gingerbread construction, and ice-cream churning. I’m in a daze of baking and happiness, my own little bubble with Fallon. The only time he seems annoyed is when Bernard Franco compliments my skills, which happens after nearly every challenge.
I’d ask him about it, but he usually just shakes his head and clears the annoyance from his expression before I get the chance.
For the elimination challenge, we make a three-tiered wedding cake and are rewarded with first place. I glance up at the rafters to see Simone hanging over the rail, yelling, “Aren’t you glad you had all that practice?”
They all laugh triumphantly when I crack a grin. Yes, I had practice baking all their wedding cakes—and they’ll never know how much I enjoyed it, even if I did complain at the time.
Tom and David are eliminated when they underbake their cakes and fail to complete all the decorations they’d planned. With just Fallon and me, Carla and Emma, and Tex and Reg left, the six of us will compete next week for the title—and the hundred-thousand-dollar prize. I can hardly believe it.
Okay, that’s a lie. I can believe it. I planned for it. Like I said—I like to win.
On Saturday night, I find myself in the main farmhouse with all the competitors—those who have already been eliminated as well as those who haven’t. It’s a big group, and I normally would feel uncomfortable in this type of situation, but I find I’m enjoying myself. We have a few drinks with everyone, then head back to our cabin.
That night, most of the way through the competition—and most of the way through our time together—I end up pushing Fallon to his back and kneeling between his legs. When I have my first taste of him, Fallon looks at me like I’m the most precious being in the world. He cups the back of my head, pushing my hair out of the way so he can watch while I pleasure him.
Kissing him like this, I feel powerful and confident and so damn sexy. It’s a heady feeling, one I’m not used to. But he tastes so good, and I’m already lost in him. I could do this daily too, I realize—and not just for another two weeks. I’d be with Fallon forever if he wanted me.
When Fallon throbs against my tongue and calls out my name, I feel so connected to him that I wonder how the hell it took so long for us to get here. Grabbing me by the armpits, Fallon pulls me up and wraps me in trembling arms, holding me tight to his body like he never wants to let me go.
The feeling is mutual.
That Sunday, the two of us head to town to meet up with our family and friends. I can’t help placing my hand on Fallon’s thigh as he drives, my head leaning back on the headrest as a smile tugs at my lips.
“Almost there,” Fallon says with a grin. “Next week you get your hundred grand.”
“Fifty,” I correct. “We get fifty each.”
Fallon clears his throat. “Mm,” he hums.
