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“It’s not your fault.” I tried to be as reassuring as possible. Too much panic could show our hand and expose us just as easily as Jack’s team’s research could. Plus, I couldn’t get over the thought we were meant to be here. Even if it didn’t make sense.
I looked over at Jack but discovered Carter’s eyes on me. A shiver ran up my spine. If looks could kill. Shit.
“So, you spent last night learning about this with Jack? Not . . . you know?”
My eyes snapped back to my sister, momentarily forgetting Carter’s broody and mildly threatening look my way, and I dipped into my mind to recall every sexy little thing that happened with Jack. Those memories were much easier to latch on to than the heavier topics we’d discussed before making love.
From our kiss, to how he’d buried his face between my legs and used his tongue to deliver one of the best orgasms of my life. To him worshiping every inch of my body with hot kisses. Me tasting him for the first time, even though I embarrassingly choked on his cock. Then riding him hard as I chased another orgasm . . .
“Fuck me how you want it, not how you think I do,” he’d rasped, reading me perfectly, knowing I needed to hit a certain spot to bring me to orgasm. I wasn’t some romance book heroine who came just because the guy had a magical dick. No, climaxing from sex required work (for me, at least). Different angles and pressure points. And Jack was all in, completely and unabashedly focused on me. It wasn’t something I’d ever experienced before. “I’ll love it, too, trust me,” he’d assured me, as if sensing my slight hesitation to change course.
I’d spun around and rode him reverse cowgirl. I could still feel his hands on my hips, holding me tightly when I’d leaned forward, grinding my clit against him as I rocked to his steady thrusts while holding his strong legs.
“You’re going to kill me. It’ll be a nice death, though,” Jack had said with a hearty, sexy chuckle after we’d both come that time.
Everything was so amazingly different with him than what I’d ever experienced before. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was older and more emotionally mature than most guys my age, or if he was just that great of a guy to begin with. But the way he’d guided me, took care of me, and always made sure my needs were met was just . . . well, I didn’t have words for it.
“Charley? Your face is pink. Cheeks the color of cherries. You remembering last night?” Lucy asked with a smirk, bulldozing through my thoughts. “So, how many times did he get you off?”
“A lot,” I confessed without even trying to fight it, because there weren’t many secrets between us. But she didn’t need to hear about how the memory of him spanking me was currently turning me on. “We should focus on the reason why they’re here, though.”
“Right. Missing women.” Lucy grimaced. “Do they have anything in common? Like does the bad guy have a fetish of some kind leading him to pick certain women?” She wrinkled her nose at her words, and I could tell our situation hadn’t really settled in. The fear that needed to be there was absent from her gaze.
In Lucy’s mind, we were discussing a Netflix series, not real life. Then again, we were on a reality show right now, so maybe fiction and true life were becoming one big blur for me as well.
“Blonde. Our age. They’re all skilled in some way, but everyone here is, or they wouldn’t be on the show, right?”
“Well, that’s creepy.”
Before I could go on, I spotted Jack and Carter starting our way. Jack’s grave look meant sharing more information with Lucy would have to wait.
“Everyone gather around,” Stephen hollered, derailing my chance to probe Jack for details about what news Carter had burdened him with. “There’s been a change in the schedule, and we’ve added a new event.” He continued to gesture, encouraging us to come closer. “A good old-fashioned treasure hunt has been planned. A little play on the history of the legendary search for the Lost City of Z.” Stephen held up a map and pointed to a black X on it. “You won’t be tracking down the city, obviously, just a fun little item we’ve hidden. And this adventure is an overnight experience in the jungle. You have thirty-six hours to retrieve the item and make it back. If you’re late, or don’t find your ‘lost treasure,’ you’re automatically cut from the competition.”
“We’re spending the night in the jungle?” asked one of the women with an Australian accent from another team, shooting her hand in the air. “You’re for real?”
Stephen lowered the map and began rolling it up. “Yes, and each team will have a different map with a different item to locate. You won’t be in each other’s way.”
“So, this is a survivor thing?” the asshole who’d dared to face off with Jack yesterday asked. “What happens if we get in trouble? Danger? Do you have people on standby to save us from an anaconda? Jaguar?”
“No, you were selected for this competition because you’re supposed to already have the necessary skills to complete such tasks,” Stephen responded.
I was even more curious about everyone else’s skills now that he brought that part up. I knew mine. Lucy’s. Was there a pattern there as well in terms of what the kidnapper looked for in his next victim?
“So,” Stephen continued, pointing to three backpacks being carried out by a crewman, “in each bag you’ll have basic items, such as canteens, granola bars, a first aid kit, and a few other essentials to help you.” He checked his watch. “Everyone on your team must make it back or your entire team is cut,” he added while handing out the maps.
Oliver accepted our map, then grabbed the backpack as well.
“Each team will have a cameraman following them around. Don’t engage with him. Act like he’s not there,” Stephen said with a nod. Then he tossed out a quick, “Good luck. Your time starts now,” and walked away.
Jack swiveled his black ball cap forward facing as he maneuvered around a few people in his way to get to me. “You want to do this?” he asked, his tone a bit distant. From the looks of it, he’d erected his own wall, copying my moves from the treehouse.
“Not really,” I answered flatly as Lucy left us alone to talk. “We don’t have a choice, right?”
“There’s always a choice.” Jack folded his arms, and I lost sight of his eyes as he lowered his focus to the pavers beneath his sneakers. “But I need you to know I’m concerned someone may be on to my people, and they want us to lose this game so we can be cut.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because this wasn’t on the original agenda. It’s a last-minute add. It’s possible we’re overreading the situation, though.”
