Body Games (Games #5)(14)
Author: Jessica Clare

“That was beautiful,” Kip murmured. “Damn, she’s hot. Serious spank material.”

Ugh. “Down, boy,” I told him. “You don’t want wood in the challenge.”

“I’m fine,” he said, but then adjusted himself.

I rolled my eyes.

“Summer and Polly win,” Chip declared, raising both hands in the air. One point for their team.”

As the two teams headed back to the lineup, someone took the golden ring from Summer and handed it off to a man in scuba gear, who disappeared under the water in the roped-off challenge portion of the beach. A few moments later, he resurfaced and gave a thumbs up. The challenge was prepped again.

“Team Eight and Team Five.”

Kip and I versus the male/male team of firefighters? I didn’t like these odds. We stepped toward the starting line and I leaned toward Kip, whispering. “You distract them and I’ll swim out, okay?”

My partner was many things, but stupid at competitions wasn’t one of them. He nodded and hunched forward, readying himself.

I leaned forward too…and a wave of titters broke from the group behind us. Were they laughing at my flat butt? Humiliation burned, but there was nothing to be done. I ignored it and concentrated on the water, waiting for the go.

“Go!”

I dashed for the water as fast as I could, Kip at my side. If we could get to the water before the firefighters, we’d have a chance. They were both twice my size; I’d never win against either in a wrestling match…and I didn’t particularly want to wrestle anyone while na**d and sunburned.

Even though we ran as fast as we could, we barely made it to the water a step ahead of the other team. I flung myself into the water, and when it was waist high, began to swim.

A hand caught my ankle, dragging me down. I kicked hard, and was quickly released, but another body surged ahead of me. I surfaced, caught a breath, and clawed at the water. Now one of the firefighters was ahead of me, and I grabbed one of his kicking legs, giving him the same treatment he gave me. His foot connected with my stomach and I gagged and hung on as he splashed and flailed against me.

Someone grabbed me from behind and dunked me, and again, I went under, water shooting up my nose. I struggled back to the surface, choking on salt-water and surrounded by clawing hands and feet. One hand accidentally touched my boob, and the firefighter – Saul? – gave an alarmed little shriek. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“Grab her,” his partner said.

“I’m trying not to touch her in bad places,” the other man said.

If I didn’t have a lungful of water, I would have laughed at the dismay in his voice. Instead, I coughed and sputtered and continued to try and wrestle out of the grasp of both men as they tried to prevent me from heading toward the ring.

Someone splashed past, and I watched Jerry pull away, trying to grab someone running away with the golden ring. Kip! Yes! I wrapped my arms around Jerry, trying to prevent him from catching Kip, and while I held the two burly firefighters in place, my partner sprinted toward the finish line.

Chip raised his hands in the air. “Team eight wins a point!”

I released Jerry, coughing. Saul helped me to my feet and gave me an awkward pat on the back. “Sorry about that, honey. I wasn’t trying to grab you. You’re the same age as my daughter.”

“It’s okay,” I wheezed, and gave him a smile. “It’s all good.”

Spitting water, I high-fived Kip – at least he was good for something – and put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. My shoulders and back burned where I’d been grabbed by the others, but I was feeling strong. One point down.

Kissy and Rusty were up next, against Sunnie and Jendan. I thought that Jendan and Sunnie would blow them out of the water, but it turned out that Sunnie wasn’t much of a competitor. She pranced into the water and when Jendan was tackled. Kissy grabbed Sunnie and pulled her under the water. She sprang up, coughing, and then flailed while Jendan tried to get out from Rusty’s clinging hands. The two rednecks won, and athletic Jendan looked annoyed while his partner tried to finger comb her hair into neatness.

Alys and Chris were the last team to go, and the rotation started again. They were paired up against the firefighters, and then one by one, each team was called up for a second round.

When it was time for Kip and I to go, I was pleased to see that we were paired against Sunnie and Jendan. “We’ve gotta keep the big guy distracted,” I murmured to Kip. “She’s not a threat.”

“Ok,” Kip said. “I’ll go for her, you go for him.”

“Wait, me? Why me?” How on earth was I supposed to keep a guy like that busy?

“Ready,” Chip called before Kip could answer. “And…go!”

We took off, heading for the water. We made it in advance of Sunnie and Jendan, who seemed to be holding back. That struck me as odd, but I dove for the buoy…

Only to be tackled and sent underwater. The big guy had found me. His big hands hauled me backward and one rubbed hard down my back. It dragged against my sunburn, and my screech of protest was muffled by the water. I pushed myself to the surface, grabbing at one of his legs and trying to dump him backward. I’d swam with rough cousins as a kid and knew how to pick a fight in a pool, at least. This wasn’t much different.

But Jendan’s size gave him the advantage. He grabbed me by the torso and pushed me down into the water again. Again, his hand went down my back, rubbing.

When I came up for air again, sputtering, his big arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pinned me in the water and then sank down, pulling both of us in to our chins.

“Your back,” he murmured in my ear. “I’m trying to clean it off.”

“What?” Disoriented, I looked around. Sunnie was flailing near the buoy and Kip’s feet disappeared into the water, my partner diving down to get the ring.

“He wrote something on your back,” Jendan said in my ear, and rubbed my back again under the water. “I’m trying to get rid of it.”

“My name?” Everyone had their names written on them every day.

“Not your name.”

“What?” I stopped struggling, wincing when Jendan’s hand pressed against my sensitive skin. “What did he write?” I whispered, forgetting about the challenge.

“You don’t want to know—“

“Yes, I do,” I insisted. “Just tell me.”

“Lousy lay. He wrote that instead of your name. At least, I assume he’s the one that wrote on your back.” His cool eyes met mine, sympathetic. “I was trying to help.”