Swept Away

by Dawn Atkins

  “Right,” he said, sounding relieved. “She’s not my type.” His eyes darted away.

  “Or is it because of Jane? Sure. That makes sense.” Matt was an honorable guy. He wouldn’t two-time his girlfriend. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend at the moment.

  Because if it wasn’t, if Matt had turned down Jaycee because he wanted Candy, then the joy she’d locked away would burst right out of her.

  “This trip’s complicated enough already,” Matt said, managing a smile. “Don’t you think?”

  “Excellent point,” she said, relieved Matt had eased the tension. She noticed carnival rides—their neon trim decorating the sky—in the distance, where the crowd thickened. “Let’s check out the carnival before the scavenger hunt, huh?” That would be a fun distraction.

  “Sounds good.”

  She put the limbo trophy inside her straw bag, Matt put his shirt back on, and they started off.

  “Hey there…” A blond guy spoke invitingly to Candy as he passed. He turned, walking backward to continue looking at her.

  She smiled her thanks-but-no-thanks smile.

  Matt stopped walking and turned to her. “If you want to hook up with him, feel free. I can amuse myself.”

  “Forget it, Matt.” She laughed.

  “This is your vacation. You should do your thing.”

  His words hit like a slap. “You think that’s my thing—picking up guys?”

  “No. I just meant enjoy yourself, do what you want.”

  “I always do,” she said, sounding more stiff than she meant to. It hurt that Matt saw her as a party girl.

  On the other hand, why wouldn’t he? She’d jumped into bed with him practically at the first chance she got.

  “Stop.” He surprised her by cupping her face and looking straight into her eyes. “I was clumsy. I just mean I don’t want to monopolize your time. If you meet someone, I’ll back off. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Her anger melted away. “I’m having a great time with you.” The words came out too intimate and too intense.

  “Me, too,” he said, matching her tone. “A great time.” He held her gaze. “Too great, probably.”

  “Probably.” Her heart throbbed in her chest and some joy leaked out. Why did he have to be so damned sincere?

  She loved being with him, the way he looked after her, smiled at every funny remark, found her so delightful. This was not good. Not good at all.

  She hurried forward, so Matt had to lope to catch up with her in the crowded midway. People were clumped around booths related to Sin on the Beach. A photo booth had life-size cardboard stand-ups of the stars, faces cut out, so couples could peek through and be photographed as if they were making love. Long lines snaked around tables where the actors autographed publicity photos and tell-alls.

  Candy and Matt pushed past all that to a more open section of the carnival.

  “Hey there, young lovers!”

  Candy turned to locate the source of the amplified voice.

  “Yes! You! White bikini, blue palm-tree shirt. I’m talking to you.” A man wearing a lime-green turban and an eye-popping Hawaiian shirt was waving them over. His twinkling eyes and handlebar moustache made him look like a tall Wizard of Oz.

  “Please, you two beautiful people, step this way.” Above him, a painted sign said, “Magellan the All Knowing.”

  “I don’t know about this,” Matt muttered to her.

  “Let’s see what he’s got to say.” She tugged Matt’s arm, pulling him closer to the small stage.

  “Folks, help me encourage this lovely couple,” Magellan called to the passing crowd. “Don’t let them escape their future. I must unravel their mystery.”

  A dozen people gathered around the platform and watched Matt help Candy up the steps to stand beside the guy.

  “Welcome, welcome,” Magellan said. “Give them a hand.”

  The crowd obediently applauded. There was a desultory whistle.

  “And your first name?” Magellan held the mic close to Candy.

  “Candy,” she said.

  “Exactly what I was going to say!” He winked at the crowd, then turned to Matt. “And you, sir? Your name is…hmm. It’s…”

  “Matt.”

  “Ah. You’re too quick for me.” The crowd laughed at his pretense that he’d been about to guess their names.

  “And are you enjoying the festival, Matt and Candy?”

  “Until now,” Matt joked.

  “Not to worry,” Magellan said with a big laugh. “You’ll be able to live this down…eventually.”

  The crowd laughed.

  “So, ready to play our game? It’s called Truth or…Bare. A variation of Truth or Dare in honor of this sexy festival we’re part of.”

  “That depends on what we have to do,” Candy said.

  “Exactly,” Matt added.

  “You can trust me,” he said. Something in his tone told her he was more than a carnie clowning for the crowd. And his eyes held a surprising depth.

  “We’re listening,” Candy said.

  “Good. Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here’s how it goes. I’m going to call on my spirit guides to reveal a secret about each of you. If I’m wrong, you earn fifty festival points and free tickets for the carnival rides.” He pulled a strip of tickets from a pocket and waved it for the crowd’s benefit.

  “And if you’re right?” Matt asked.

  “Then it gets interesting. If I’m correct, you remove an item of clothing. A major item. No jewelry or shoes. That’s why we call it Truth or Bare.”

  The crowd roared its appreciation.

  “So, are you in?” he asked, looking from Matt to Candy.

  No way would Candy drop her bikini for a crowd, but she was curious about what Magellan might guess. Matt looked as though he wanted to bolt from the stage. That made her smile. She liked seeing him off-guard. “Why not?” she said.

  “Candy,” he said under his breath.

  “Relax, Fun Guy. It’ll be fine.” She turned to Magellan. “We’re in,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “You’re very brave.” Somberly, Magellan shook her hand.

  “Hang on,” Matt said. He whipped off his shirt and put it around Candy’s shoulders. “Now we’re in.”

  The crowd booed.

  “That’s all well and good, my man. Quite heroic of you. However, if I guess correctly about you, you’ll be in the altogether.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Matt said, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Oooh, he looked good. Candy sighed.

  “Suit yourself,” Magellan said. “Or un-suit yourself, as the case may be. What do we think about that, ladies?” He directed the microphone at the crowd, where women shrieked their approval of the possibility of Matt losing his swimsuit.

  “You okay with this?” Matt asked her.

  “If you are,” she said, impressed by his boldness. Should Magellan stumble onto a real secret, he could deny it, of course. She was sure that not even a double Tsunami for Two could convince Matt to strip in public.

  “Now, if I could have a moment of silence while I contact my spirit guides,” Magellan said. The crowd dutifully quieted and the fortune teller made a big show of closing his eyes, placing his fingers to his temples, then putting his palms together at his heart level. Instantly, mystical music swelled around them. He’d tapped a remote, no doubt, or had an assistant backstage.

  After a few seconds, Magellan opened his eyes, gave them each a Buddha-worthy smile, put a hand on each of their shoulders and lowered his head again. The music swelled and Candy felt a curious warmth pass through her body, head to toe. Had to be the power of suggestion.

  After a bit, Magellan’s head jerked up and the music stopped dead. He leveled his gaze at each of them in turn.

  “First, I am prompted to point out that nothing at this festival can compete with what you two have in mind for each other.” He grinned, then turned to the audience, which had grown substanti
ally. “Am I right?”

  The crowd hooted its pleasure.

  Matt went red under his tan. Candy managed a smile. The guy knew how to work a crowd.

  “Now, for my official reading.” Magellan turned to her, meeting her gaze full on. “Here’s what my guides tell me.” He paused. “You, Candy, want something from Matt that you’re afraid to ask for.”

  She thought immediately about the promotion, but it could be a million things. The secret to fortune telling was making ambiguous guesses.

  “You don’t really want that, by the way,” Magellan added quietly, an odd light in his eye. She felt caught short. “So, am I right?” he said more loudly so the crowd could hear. “Will it be Truth?” Long pause. “Or Bare?”

  The crowd roared.

  No way could she admit the truth. Matt would want to know what it was. She had no choice but to lie. “Sorry. You are incorrect,” she said.

  “Really?” Magellan seemed to read her fib. “Sometimes I’m wrong,” he said, making a big show of giving her a strip of tickets and, from another pocket, a voucher for points. He slanted Candy a last glance, inviting her to confess, then shrugged and turned to Matt. “Let’s see now, Matt.” He paused. “You, Matt, have let Candy believe a falsehood for her own good.” He leaned closer to Matt and whispered, “The truth will set you free, my friend.”

  He spoke into the microphone. “So…am I correct? Will you trade in your swimsuit for your birthday suit, Matt?”

  There was a moment of silence. Matt swallowed, looking painfully uncomfortable. “Sorry, but you’re wrong,” Matt said in a way that made Candy think he was lying, too. Come on, she scolded herself. No way was Magellan psychic. He was working the crowd, making likely guesses.

  “Looks like the spirits are failing me today,” Magellan said. He shook his fist heavenward in mock anger, then hung his head in pretend sorrow.

  The audience clapped and shouted while he handed over Matt’s winnings.

  Magellan shook their hands, then spoke into the microphone. “I predict a private game of Truth or Bare in your future.” He winked. “Your very near future. Good luck to you both.”

  The crowd roared at the sexual implication of his words, but Candy had the feeling that Magellan wished them luck with more than the sex he was assuming they’d have.

  Matt helped her off the platform and they walked into the crowd, which moved onward. “That was mortifying,” he said.

  “I know,” she said. “You want your shirt?” She started to shrug it off.

  “Keep it,” he said, eyeing her body. “It’s safer that way.”

  “For you maybe.” She looked at his bare chest, wanting it against her, electricity zinging through her. Matt’s eyes crackled with a matching reaction. Neither of them was safe and they both knew it. Magellan was right. Nothing out here could compare with the pleasure they’d enjoy together.

  She watched him, holding her breath.

  “Maybe we should call it a night,” he said, as if he’d sensed the danger, too. “Just forget the festival for now.”

  “We can’t. I promised Ellie and Sara we’d do the scavenger hunt. We’re strong enough to handle this, aren’t we?”

  “I guess we’re going to find out,” he said with a sigh, taking her by the arm and moving forward.

  10

  CANDY SPOTTED THE Hot Shot Scavenger Hunt right away. The stage held three movie screens and was flanked by two huge inflated cell phones marked with the brand name of the sponsoring mobile-phone company.

  The emcee announced that the list of Hot Shot photos would appear on the screen and also be available via text message in five minutes. All entry shots had to be sent to the contest’s cell number before midnight. From the teams whose entries met the requirements, the winner would be selected based on the quality of the photos, their originality and how fast they were turned in.

  Candy and Matt located Ellie and Sara standing with two men—Bill and Drew, she assumed. Just as they’d finished introducing themselves to each other, a shout rose from the crowd. They looked up to see a list of bulleted items on all three screens.

  Candy scanned the list: a guy in pink boxer briefs, a woman in a plain white bra, three women in descending cup sizes—double points if they were topless—naked female backsides with and without tan lines, a male butt cheek with a beauty or birth mark, innie and outie navels, a sexy tattoo, a woman’s thong with something provocative written on it, a Day-Glo condom and more. Twenty items in all. It was dizzying.

  “This is worse than I thought,” Matt said, looking at her. “Pink briefs?”

  “Okay, quick. Innie or outie?” Ellie asked the group, undaunted by the challenge. In seconds, Drew’s and Sara’s navels had been photographed—he was innie, she was outie—and Candy and her friends had divvied up the rest of the shots.

  Matt waited, nervous as hell, Candy could see.

  “We got the easy stuff, don’t sweat it,” she told him. The scavenger hunt crowd had dissipated in search of photographic victims, so Candy dragged Matt over to a group of easygoing-looking guys she hoped to convince to be their Three Moons Over Malibu shot.

  The guys were happy to oblige. Matt looked stunned while she captured the picture.

  Next, she led him to five women drinking from novelty glasses—a clue they were in get-drunk-go-crazy mode. In no time at all, Candy had three of them lined up in cup order—D, C, A.

  “Now, when I say flash, lift your tops,” she said.

  Matt looked away politely when the girls did as she’d asked, and Candy took their picture.

  Afterward, they gave her a cell number so she could send them the photo.

  “I can’t believe how easily you talk people out of their clothes,” Matt said, sounding honestly awed.

  “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

  She sent the shots to Ellie’s and Sara’s phones, saw what they’d snapped, then grinned at Matt. “We’re on target. The rest of our shots are easy. We’ll grab glow-in-the-dark condoms at Walgreens, you’ve got the ass with a beauty mark and I’ve got the sexy thong. Come on.” She took his arm.

  “Hold it. I have a beauty mark on my—?”

  “Left butt cheek, yes. Didn’t you know? It matches this one.” She tapped the spot on his right cheek.

  He touched it, brushing her finger.

  “The one on your backside stands out because you’re pale back there. Maybe consider nude sunbathing. Or a tanning bed.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. She loved to shock him.

  “Come on,” she said, tugging at him.

  “Wait a sec.” He stopped dead. “I’m not dropping my pants in public for you to photograph.”

  “No problem. We have to go to my place for the thong anyway.”

  “Candy, do you realize they’re going to show these photos up there?” He nodded toward the huge screens on stage.

  “It’ll be fine. Just your butt and only my underwear. No identifying features. It’s modeling. Come on.”

  “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” he said, moving into a trot to keep up with her.

  “It’s for a good cause.”

  “Good thing you’re not offering swampland. It seems I’m buying whatever you’re selling.”

  Once they’d nabbed and photographed a packet of neon condoms and sent the shot to the girls, Candy unlocked the door to the beach house and led Matt inside.

  She flipped on the lights, then faced him, cell phone ready. “Okay, show me what you got, big boy.” She was trying for a jokey tone, but her voice shook.

  “You said the left cheek?” When she nodded, he turned away, slid his thumb into his trunks and shoved them down, revealing the muscled swell of his gorgeous ass. He looked over his shoulder. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect.” It was like some hot Calvin Klein ad and she felt such a rush of arousal she could hardly click the picture. In fact, the first one blurred.

  “One more,” she said, holding her breath
and stilling her shaking long enough to snap the shot.

  She showed it to him. “Like I said. I’m the only one who can tell it’s you.”

  “You can tell?” he said gruffly.

  “How could I forget how you look naked?” she breathed, swaying closer.

  No, no, no. Stick to the goal—get the shots, then go.

  “Hold this while I get my thong.” She handed him the phone, then went to paw through her suitcase for the novelty underwear, which she waved at Matt. “I’ll put this on and be right back.”

  “I’ll wait,” he said slowly, one hand fisting at his side, the other holding the camera.

  The moment that had started out so matter-of-fact was now a rising tide of heat that lifted Candy off her feet. She could see in Matt’s eyes he felt the same.

  They were all alone in the house and nearly naked. SyncUp seemed far away. Everything in her was demanding she do something about this before she burst into flames on the spot.

  She rushed to the bathroom, slammed the door and leaned on it, her heart in her throat, fighting for air and some trace of good sense, which seemed to have fled the scene.

  She had the terrible thought that the near future Magellan had predicted for them was right here, right now.

  THIS WAS TOO SURREAL for words. Candy was in the bathroom donning the tiniest strip of fabric known to man so that Matt could take her picture in it. How had he gotten here?

  Already, he’d allowed her to photograph his bare ass to be flashed on a huge screen for thousands of strangers.

  And he wasn’t sorry. Or not very sorry. Yet.

  He wasn’t drunk this time. He’d had wine and sucked a shot of tequila from Candy’s belly, but that had been hours ago. Just in case, he tried standing on one leg and touching his nose. He was sober, all right. No, his problem wasn’t alcohol. It was the wild enzymes that flooded the human brain when it was aroused, ready to fight or flee or ask a girl to marry him.

  All because of Candy, that willful whirlwind who had strangers cheerfully whipping off their underwear at her whim.

  No wonder he’d ended up here. She was the most charming woman he’d ever met, a ball of energy and fun he wanted to hold on to for dear life.