Matched

by Angela Graham

  “Eyes on your own paper, Cruz! I’m hot and bored!” she yells back, and I suppress a laugh.

  “You’re hot?” Court springs back, his hands leaving the boxes as he rushes to her side in one worried movement. I don’t think he even realizes he forfeited.

  “Jensen’s won!” Tom declares.

  Nadia’s clapping, while Court walks Emma toward us in the tent. Cruz is waiting impatiently with a bottle of water for her to drink, and another for Court to wash his hands.

  Tom’s still rambling. “The tiebreaker will be between Team Green and Team Yellow, and will address the sense of taste. I need you four, please.”

  Cruz stays at Emma’s side and I’m fine with that, but Court’s got other plans. “Go whip his ass, man. I will take care of her.”

  “I’m fine,” Emma adds. “Stop the hovering, seriously. Everyone out here’s hot—it’s hot outside! Geez!”

  “Cruz, Harlow—now, or you’re eliminated,” Tom interjects bravely.

  “Your call,” I assure him. “I agree with whatever you choose.” He interlocks our fingers, and we emerge from the tent. I wanted Emma to win this whole thing anyway, so if that’s not going to happen, I’m okay with whatever—especially taking care of her.

  “Here they are. Last round, winner takes all. Who's coming?” Both the men—correction, one man and one Jensen—step forward. “Under these lids are three servings; a twenty-one-ounce glass filled with the raw liquid insides of an ostrich egg, a plate of fish eyeballs, and last but not least, a bowl containing two Rocky Mountain oysters…also known as bull testicles. But don’t worry—we’re not sadistic here at Date, Mate, Fate. You may pick whichever two of the entrées you find most appetizing.

  “The first of you to consume your chosen entrées without regurgitating them wins this entire challenge! Your teammates may also support you in any way they see fit, as long as they don’t help you eat or touch the…food in any way. Questions?”

  “Cruz.” I pull him to the side. “Listen, I’d love nothing more than to beat those two and spend a date with you, but think about it this way, if we win, we’ll be gone on the cruise all day, away from Emma.”

  He looks over at her, then glares at Jensen before securing my gaze again. He’s on the fence, so I’m aiming below the belt…pun intended. “And not assuming you would, or…whatever…but if you are planning on kissing me, like, ever again…please don’t put that disgusting stuff anywhere near your mouth.”

  His luscious lips take their time curling up for me, and a devilish spark is in his eyes. “Work with me, ’kay?”

  “Absolutely.” I wink at him and he takes pause, his deliberate consideration conveying all the nothing he says.

  “I’m ready, Tom.” He angles himself in the direction of the game.

  “All right, boys…bon appétit!”

  He lifts the silver lids, and I gag from the smell alone. Seriously. Cruz makes to dive in and Jensen hurries, shoving fish eye after fish eye into his mouth.

  Cruz plugs his nose and raises the glass of egg up, then puts it back down. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Come on, Cruz! You’ve got this! Whip his pansy ass!” It sounds as though it’s coming from me, though I don’t consciously say the words.

  “He vussy boy, Jensen, go, go!” Nadia shouts at him. He swallows and shovels faster, pausing a few times to breathe and heave, just barely keeping it down. “Be a man! Take drink of that, vash down! That two things!”

  And the flaming moron listens, tossing back half the yolky, thick, smelly egg. Miranda shoots a hand in the air that catches my peripheral gaze. When I glance over, she gives me a thumbs up, beaming. Emma and Court are laughing conspiratorially.

  “Cruz, Jensen’s way ahead of you. What are you waiting for?” Tom goads.

  “For him to actually eat half that shit. Team Green forfeits! Have a nice cruise, champ!” He thumps Jensen on the back and sidles toward me for a high five.

  Nadia’s glaring my way, and I can’t help sticking my tongue out. Yep, my maturity level has plummeted since I entered this show.

  The rest of our “camp” bolts over, ready to be dismissed and head inside when Tom clears his throat.

  “Jensen, Nadia, you are the ultimate ‘Makes Sense’ winners, earning the island cruise. Or…” My blood curdles in my veins at his sneer. “You can cash that in for today’s catch.” Cruz’s hand clutches mine. “The return payment being…you may send any one person here home, along with their soulmate—the blank of which we will fill in for you.”

  “Ve vant to send Harlow home,” Nadia spits out immediately, her nasty grin pinned on me.

  It takes both Cruz’s arms around me to stop me from flying over to cunt punt the bitch.

  “Hold up, Tom,” Jensen protests before taking a gulp of water, gagging, and spitting it out. “I’d like a minute to confer with my partner.”

  “Of course.”

  We take this time to huddle as well, with Emma in charge. “Listen, don’t panic,” she says pointedly to Cruz. “You guys go home—no biggie. I’ll be fi—”

  “She’ll be fine,” Court finishes for her. “You have my word.”

  “And we’re all right behind you,” Emma continues. “This thing’s almost over. You guys get a sexy trip. But I really think Nadia will take the luxury item once he’s talked her down.”

  Miranda’s shaking her head. “He’s not trying to change her mind. He’s using his vote for leverage—stacking up sexual favors in exchange for going along with her. Trust me.”

  “Oh, please, surely not,” Miles probes.

  “We’ll see.” Miranda points, and we all look. They’re ready to declare their decision.

  “Tom,” Jensen starts, his lecherous sneer telling me all I need to know, “we’re sending Harlow home.”

  “You’re gonna wish it was Adam kicking your ass this time, you fucking weasel. Just wait.” Cruz’s threat is sinister and promising.

  “It’s decided. Harlow, you’ll be leaving us tonight with…” Tom accepts an envelope a crewman hands him and opens it. His eyebrows disappear into what’s left of his hairline.

  “Court Callahan.”

  Confessional: Cruz McCall

  “Hope none of you out there are die-hard Jensen fans, because he’s a dead man walking. Motherfucker has been nothing but a waste of air since day one. And it won’t be for the cameras, but someday, when he lets down his guard and thinks I forgot, he’ll pay.

  “He’s treated Miranda like shit this entire time, put all the girls in danger with his wannabe orgy—hell, he had every intention of doing nothing but watching while two of them were damn near violated—and now he’s sending Harlow home so that bitch you can’t even understand half the time will bob on his dick. She’d have done that anyway! Again!

  “Emma loves having Harlow here. I love having Harlow here. And by default, they’re taking Court away from Emma, too. As much as I don’t like it, she likes him. Her whole face lights up when he walks into a room; even if she turns her head so he won’t see, it’s there.

  “Bastard’s gonna hurt. I came in here to try and calm down, but shit’s changed. Let this serve as official fair warning. I’m coming for ya, fucker. One eye open, rest of your life.

  “Now I’m gonna walk out of here and check on my sister. Then, no sooner than I got to really say hello, gonna say goodbye to Gorgeous.”

  Chapter 30

  Cruz is completely silent, his hands nowhere near me the entire hike back to the house. I have a pretty good idea why, aside from the obvious goodbye part of course. He’s beating himself up for throwing the last event that cost us the surprise “reward”—for the forfeit I talked him into. And our collaboration, hilarious and vindicating for far too brief a moment, backfired and cost two innocents in Emma and Court.

  Come to think of it, I’m not feeling really talkative or touchy either.

  So when I trudge through the obligatory motions of Court unlocking my safe, our tickets r
evealing a trip to Aspen, I can hardly manage a smile.

  “Do you even wanna go?” Court adjusts his stance so only I can see more than hear his mundane whisper.

  “Not really.”

  “Same. We could donate it?”

  “Like hell!” Emma’s shrill bellow barges into our deliberation. “You guys have to go! We only get one twirl on this merry-go-round, so hold on tight and scream for it to spin faster!”

  Such zest for life. It’s a shame we’re not all born appreciative, and that true enlightenment only seems to come through suffering.

  “Emma, how about we save it and you can go with him?” I suggest.

  “Nope,” she pops. “What else you gonna do while you’re waiting for my brother? Go have fun, and by the time you’re all snow-chapped, he and I will be outta here. And you,” she says, sauntering closer to Court and tracing a fingertip down his torso, “take care of my girl. No letting her fall off ski lifts or plow into trees!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His laugh’s shallow as he kisses her, then looks at me. The defeated expression on his face matches my current mood. “Guess we’re goin’ to Aspen.”

  “It would seem…twerp.” I flick Emma on the arm before looking around, frowning. Cruz has disappeared. “I’m gonna go pack.”

  “Well, give me a proper goodbye first, before things get hectic and I’m crying.” She flings herself at me and I absorb her hug, my eyes leaking. “Love you, Harlow. See you soon.”

  “I love you too, Em. You hurry up and win this whole thing and call me!”

  “You got it. Now if you’ll excuse me, gonna take a lil’ stroll with my guy before you whisk him off to Colorado.”

  Miles gives me a smile, holding his arms open as I walk into our bedroom and his embrace. “Gonna miss you, girlie. Don’t be a stranger.”

  “Never.” I sniffle. “So, mastermind, did you have it right—me and Court?”

  “Oh, Harlow.” He takes my cheeks in his hands and kisses my forehead. “I have it right, they have it wrong. No overthinking semantics, sweetie; you know who your soulmate is—have all along, I suspect. Now I’mma scoot. Go love on blondie.” He nudges his head toward Miranda, who’s lying on her stomach on her bed, watching us.

  “Hey, you.” I sit down on the edge.

  “Bye, you.” Her tear-stained face wrinkles.

  “Stop that. Sit up and hug me.” I scoot over and give her room. “Listen—Cruz won’t let Jensen bother you, so try to enjoy paradise. And once I find a pen, I’m gonna give you my number. You call me when you’re done here, and we’ll plan a visit—lots of them. We’re friends, Miranda—forever. This show was the starting point, not the ending.”

  “Promise?”

  “On my life.”

  “Okay.” She wipes her face. “Come on. I’ll help you pack.”

  I’m not sure where Cruz is or how long I have until the car arrives to pick up Court and me, but I know the one place I want to end my time in—my hammock.

  I slip quietly out the back door once my luggage is brought down to the Great Room, giving the house a final goodbye as I make my way to the lone spot where I always find peace.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I open my eyes at the sound of his voice, a smile already forming on my face.

  “You better.”

  The entire hammock swings as I maneuver to make room, draping my blanket over us as his body nestles against mine. Rolled to the center of the cramped space, we face each other. He stretches an arm out where I rest the nape of my neck, guiding my head to sink into the nook of his shoulder. It’s a place I’ve yet to experience, and another I’ll now miss. My fingers trail lazily over his stomach, only a thin T-shirt covering the taut planes of his abdomen that tense under my touch.

  “Can’t believe I’m leaving,” I whisper, wishing it wasn’t true.

  “Me either.”

  Neither of us say more, content just holding each other beneath the palms. The sun is low in the distance, a tortuous force reminding me that when it goes away, so does he.

  “How’s Emma doing?” I ask, needing a distraction.

  “She and Court took a walk on the beach.”

  I prop my arm over his chest and rest my chin there to better view his strikingly handsome face. “I’m glad you let her go.” I smirk. “You did so without a hassle, right?”

  He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest providing vibrations that ricochet through my entire body. “Yeah, I did.”

  I place my lips to his neck and kiss. “He really does care about her.”

  “Maybe.” His arms bring me tight against him. I lay another kiss to his skin, this time working up to his jaw.

  “He’d never let anything happen to her.”

  “He’ll regret it if he does.”

  “And whether you approve or not, he’s not going anywhere. He adores her too much.”

  I kiss the underside of his chin, humming a sweet moan as his hand dips into the loose sleeve of my cover-up shielding only a bikini underneath, trailing his fingers down my spine.

  “I’d rather not think about him or my sister while I’m holding you in my arms,” he says quietly.

  “Fair enough.” My lips glide slowly across his neck. “I almost wish you weren’t here right now, holding me like this, giving me something else to grieve when I go. It feels so right with you, but it hurts so much.” My eyes sting and I slam them shut to halt the gamut of emotions overshadowing the moment.

  “Harlow.” He leans his body in, using both hands to lift me higher next to him, our lips nearly touching. “This isn’t the end for us. I promise you.” The fire raging in his steely eyes flares with the desperation of a ravenous soul craving a baser connection to another.

  “No, no promises.” I brush my lips against his, needing to imprint the feeling of them there until we meet again. “Just kiss me, please,” I whisper breathlessly.

  His hand curls around my neck and into my hair, tight but not painful, commanding me as his mouth opens and covers mine, his tongue sweeping inside. I can’t hide the relief in my moan as I give myself over fully, savoring the taste of him—every stroke of his tongue over mine, the nip of his lips, and his growl of satisfaction when I rub my leg up his calf, seeking as much contact as possible. The deeper the kiss grows, the further apart I fall until something snaps, leaving me struggling to retain the last thread holding me together until it’s gone.

  I dig my fingers into his shirt and push my body further into the hammock so that he rolls on top of me.

  “Harlow.” His faint voice is laced with hunger.

  I don’t stop. My mouth stealing tastes of his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist. He adjusts the blanket to cloak us fully, but I don’t care whether it does or not. I need him right now. Nothing else matters.

  “Please,” I beg when he stills above me. His desire is evident, hard and heavy against me.

  That’s all it takes. His hands slide down, stroking the curve of my waist. His neck absorbs my whimpering moans as his fingertips ascend to the lower swells of my breasts.

  I push my pelvis up against his erection, which is growing impossibly harder and thicker. “Cruz...” His name falls from my lips in a sensual request.

  He drops his head to my chest—but not to claim my breasts. Instead, he releases a pained sigh. “Fuck!”

  “Did I…? I’m sorry.” I mentally slap myself for coming on too quick and eagerly.

  There’s a tormented struggle behind his cloudy eyes as he braces himself on his elbows, creating a small distance between us. His gaze sweeps the yard, searching in every direction, before he directs it back down at me.

  “We shouldn’t do this.”

  I drop my gaze, unable to look at him now, my cheeks flaming. “Okay.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my tone.

  His weight covers me again. “I want to, Harlow—want all of you—but the cameras could be anywhere.”

  I nod, knowing he’s right. My hands rake down his back a
s I smile. The moment is bittersweet, but I’m filled with appreciation that he’s always looking out for me—for us. “Just lie with me. I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He rolls to his side and draws me back in, his hardness pressing against my stomach.

  I’m reburying my head in his neck, the pulse there as rampant as my own, when his hand slinks to my ass and squeezes. My entire body shivers, and my lips seem to give more and more of the faintest kisses the longer we remain there in our perfect heaven.

  “I want you, Cruz. I want our final memory here, together—completely.” I whisper the brazen confession, forcing my eyes not to stray from his.

  He stares at me with a strained expression, his breathing labored as my hand coasts down between our bodies and caresses his thickness.

  “You already have me, Harlow.”

  Despite his words, he doesn’t stop me when I reach inside his shorts, pulling him free. I press myself against him, and with only my bikini bottom separating us, draw my hand to his face, stroking his jaw. Tears blossom in my eyes as I confess, “I want to get lost in you—want you to take every piece of me before I leave. Please...give me one last memory of only us on this island.”

  I watch the internal debate flash across his face and am bracing myself for rejection when his mouth crashes to mine in a dizzying kiss. My body erupts in tingling anticipation when his hand slips around from my ass, tugging my bikini bottom to the side gently and nudging the tip of his head against my throbbing center.

  “You sure?” he murmurs against my lips, further adjusting the blanket to shield us.

  “Never wanted anything more.”

  His hips thrust and propel him deep inside me, stretching and filling me to the very depths. His visceral groan merges with my throaty gasp.

  He reaches down to the earth with his other hand and pushes off, sending us swinging. Our bodies never need to move; the motion alone does all the work. Even if a camera spotted us, it’d never know how connected we truly are.

  “Damn,” he growls. “Gorgeous.” It’s a reverent appraisal that swells my heart as his eyes lock on mine.