I look back at him and see he’s stripped off his shirt, soaked it in the cool water, and is using it to wash himself from his head to his waist. He shrugs his wet shirt back on, then jogs over so we’re in the same shot. Perfect.
“Scooch closer, babe,” I say as I slide my arm around his waist and pull him tighter. “How about we challenge the viewers at home?” As I flash them my best smile, I wonder if this is live or if we’re on a time delay.
“I promise.” I do the cross-my-heart motion that I’m certain none of the viewers are familiar with. “I promise that my handsome guy and I will give you all a show tonight. A better show.” I cup his crotch fondly and am unable to keep my mouth from flying open in surprise as my hand discovers he’s hard as the Statue of Liberty and almost as big.
“Oooh, see that, folks? He’s ready, willing, and able.” I wait and wait until the drone tips slightly. I assume it’s panning in on my partner’s junk. There you go. Let’s whet their salacious appetites.
Two can play. I pull my stretchy sports bra lower to show the smallest half-moon slivers of my brown areolae.
“We’ll give you a show. When you donate credits tome,” I emphasize the word ‘me’ because if the credits are split, I won’t be able to afford the laser rifle I need to stay alive. “If you donate the credits to me, Slayer, I will do a striptease and if you want, I’ll ride the big guy tonight. Let me know if you want me shot from the front or the back. Hell, I’ll do both.”
I can practically hear the network execs stop counting their money long enough to sing hallelujah, yet I don’t see the tote board racking up a single point next to my name.
“When I get ten thousand credits and the laser rifle is in my hand, you’ll get your show.” I repeat that for good measure, so everyone gets the message. Those motherfuckers aren’t going to cheat me out of that rifle a second time.
Titan leans down and kisses me right on cue. I wonder if in addition to superhuman night vision this male possesses magic. I’ve never been so attracted to anyone before. Certainly not enough to forget the drones are filming our kiss. Not enough to ignore the subtle whirr of their motors as they move in for a closeup. Not enough that in front of half the planet I widen my stance and urge him to bend his knees so I can ride that iron monster hiding under his pants.
I break away, panting, so weak in the knees I’m gripping his forearms to make sure I don’t fall. Luckily, the little lizard scampered down when the drones came so close I thought their rotors might give me a haircut.
Leaning down, Titan nibbles a path from my mouth to my ear and then says, “When you offered to tear off your clothes for them, to fuck me in front of them for show, I thought you’d lost your mind. But you’re not crazy, Blaze, you’re brilliant. The network is too greedy to pass this up.
“Before they wiped all your credits, you had over ten thousand. Do you think that’s all the viewers pledged to you? They’d probably pledged hundreds of thousands, maybe millions. And all you were going to buy with that were a few overpriced trinkets.” His eyes are narrowed in anger at their greedy behavior.
“They won’t be able to pass this up, Slayer. They’re going to have to give you that rifle because you won’t perform without it. You just might—”
He stops abruptly, stands tall, and starts his way up the ravine.
He didn’t have to say it. We both know what he was thinking. If I earn that rifle, I just might winThe Game. And he’s right. I might. And winningThe Gamemeans it will be over his dead body.