Even though Shay put up a little fight, she didn't knee me when I kissed her. After a second, I pressed her to me. Her long hair brushed against my fingertips.
I was still elevated from the rush from the coke and the whole snake incident. I didn't know how everyone else could have just gone back to sleep. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to party.
Shay tilted her head slightly. At the same time her lips parted. I took that as an invitation. As our kiss deepened, I brought my right hand back around and grabbed her breast.
Real. Big. Hot. I hardened at the thought of just burying my face in them and fucking the shit out of her.
Okay, so that sounds pigheaded. But, no one ever said I was Shakespeare. I pressed my johnson against her body hoping she'd get the memo.
She got the memo. One minute my hand was enjoying the squeezable softness of tits and the next minute I had nothing...except a hard-on.
"What?" I asked dumbly.
"Whatever you think is going to happen, is so not going to happen," she said.
My mouth opened in protest.
"But I'm Nick Carter!" I said.
Shay snorted. "Nice to meet you. I'm a lady. I'm not joining the STD carousel."
Before I could brag about my clear record, she took off towards the girl's camphouse. She was steps away from the door when she turned. My hope rose.
"It's just you and your hand tonight," she sang.
Then she disappeared.
I kicked at the dirt. I tried to think of the last time I had gotten turned down. It was too long ago to remember.
I walked over to Shay's tipped over chaise lounge. I shook out all the blankets cautiously. I didn't want any snake surprise. I pulled the chaise towards the guy's camphouse and stretched out. My body was still demanding an explanation for getting cock-blocked. I walked around the building, entered the camphouse from the back and spent ten minutes dousing myself with cold water. By the time I got back to the chaise, I was feeling better.
Not satisfied, but better.
I had just made myself comfortable and was drifting off for an early morning nap around six thirty when I heard one of those annoying carhorns that played music whenever you beeped it. I opened my eye to see a big RV rolling onto the lot. I groaned.
"No," I whispered.
Luckily, the camera crew had to get out and set up. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Maybe the show had wised up and decided on a new host. Maybe--
"RISE AND SHINE PHAT CLUB CAMPER!"
I opened my right eye just a crack. I was eye to crotch with Richard Simmons. He bent down and stuck his rag-mopped face up to mine.
"TIME TO MOVE!"
The moment he said it, I heard horns going off in the cabins. There was a girlish shriek from across the way. Richard bounded from me and sprinted towards the girl's house.
"GET DRESSED! GET DRESSED! WE START OUR DAY IN ONE HALF HOUR!"
I threw a blanket over my head.
This wasn't going to be good.
"It's just you and your hand tonight," I sang. I got to the door of the camp house and slid inside. The moment the door closed behind me, all the faux-confidence I had eluded slipped off me like an invisibility cloak.
My lips tingled. Nick Carter was a damn good kisser. And the feel of him hard and pressing against me...
I fanned myself with my hand.
The last time I had gotten any was two years ago. I was in college and I was positive that my boyfriend and I were going to be together for ever.
We never saw each other after graduation.
Ergo, the thought of getting down and dirty with Nick held appeal. A lot of appeal. I was an L.A. girl. L.A. girls didn't rely on morals. They relied on good times.
How the hell did I develop a conscience?
I headed into the bathroom and took a freezing shower. I had just stepped out when a horn began to blare. I was wrapped in a too-small towel and still jittery from the snake thing. I shrieked.
"GOOD MORNING LADIES!"
I shrieked again. Richard Simmons and the camera crew burst through the doors. I ran back into the bathroom hoping that the camera didn't get a shot of my big ass in the process.
"GET DRESSED! GET DRESSED! WE START OUR DAY IN ONE HALF HOUR!"
I heard the distinct sound of Richard's annoying clap and then the door slammed shut. I peeked out. Darra was sitting up in bed looking confused.
"Who let da Smurfs out?"
Everyone ignored her. I walked over to my bunk. I had to smile.
Somehow we had gotten new workout clothes. T-shirts and running pants.
Sometimes bitching paid off.
The four of us moved around each other getting dressed. Darra put on a crapload of makeup. I didn't even bother. I had a feeling I was going to be sweating.
A lot.
Sure enough, the moment we walked out of the camp house I could see the obstacle course that had been erected. I looked at the huge rope wall in disgust and horror. From across the way, the guys lumbered out of their building. Nick caught my eye. I looked away.
"WELCOME TO DAY ONE OF PHAT CAMP!" Richard screeched. Darra wasn't excited anymore. There were no more leg lifts.
"This is the FIRST day of the rest of your LIVES! We're going to get you into shape so you can become PRODUCTIVE members of society!"
"Excuse me?" the judge asked. Richard looked at her. He held out his hand, finger splayed, and began to turn it side-to-side.
"No, I don't mean it that way. I just mean that once this 'weight' has been lifted, the possibilities will be endless!"
He did a little Mexican hat dance, sans hat. It took all my willpower not to run up and chop off his hands.
"We've set up an obstacle course," Richard explained. "Whoever has the best time will win a SPECIAL prize. The team with the lowest combined time will get an extra weight advantage at the next weigh-in! Make this one count!"
I could give you a blow-by-blow of how everyone did, but it would be pointless. The highlights from our team was Darra getting stuck crawling through the tires and me losing my exercise pants trying to scale the wall. There's nothing like a pair of bright pink panties mooning the camera to bring the excitement.
Or the mortification.
"Girl, you done lost your drawers!" Darra said. She came jogging up to me at the end with my pants. I grabbed them and stuck them back on.
"I quit," I said. Darra shook her head.
"You can't quit! If you can't keep your britches on that means you already lost weight. What's your secret?"
"I don't have a secret," I said.
"Yes, you do."
I whirled around. Nick was grinning ear to ear.
"You have a Victoria's Secret."
It was the corniest line I had ever heard. I was hot. I was sweaty. In truth, I was wearing Lane Bryants. The only thing I had going for me was that I had actually shaved my legs. Otherwise the world would have seen a pink-pantied Chewbacca.
"Let's see you try this damn thing," I said. I spat at a sweaty strand of hair. Nick snorted.
"I've done shows with two straight hours of intensive cardio dance. I can handle a little wooden wall."
Darra and I stepped back. The crew was getting the guys into position.
I crossed my arms across my chest. I saw Nick making a big show of stretching out his legs.
Something told me this wasn't going to be good.
And I was going to love it.
