Page 22 of Down and Dirty Celebrity Edition

She tugged Savannah’s bottom lip gently between her teeth and then moved, sliding her thigh over Savannah’s hips until she sat above her, straddling her. The duvet fell like water off her back, and before considering that a member of production might be skulking around the beach, she yanked her pajama top over her head and tossed it onto the pillow.

She didn’t say anything. Savannah didn’t either. To speak was more dangerous than playing with fire. Amy leaned forward enough to plant her palms on Savannah’s stomach. Then she smoothed them upward, dragging the hem of her tank top along until her breasts were exposed, until Amy could see every part of Savannah in the moonlight: her silver, creamy skin, her hard, dark nipples and the swell of her perfect, full breasts. Fuck. She was so beautiful Amy nearly whimpered. Then she did. Though softly, thankfully, when Savannah’s hands ran up Amy’s torso to her ribs. When the book critic’s thumbs brushed over Amy’s nipples, they hardened beneath her touch, just as the rest of Amy’s body responded. Her clit was literally throbbing.

“This is a bad idea,” Savannah muttered, taking one nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Amy’s eyes snapped shut just as she squeezed. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. There was no way Amy was going to get through it without making a peep.

“No sounds,” Amy whispered, more as an instruction to herself. She lowered her body until their breasts met, nipple for nipple, and then she kissed Savannah harder than before. Teeth and tongues clinked just a little too loudly in the silence, but Amy couldn’t stop. She was so hot for Savannah she was literally on fire.

Amy shifted her body just a little to the side and then slid her hand down Savannah’s right thigh, then brought it back up the inner side of the left. She dipped her fingers beneath the cotton of her panties and teased her wet folds, circling once before she moved north, smoothing over Savannah’s stomach until she closed them around a plump breast. She squeezed tenderly, lovingly, sensually.

Savannah moaned, and Amy immediately hushed her. She clapped her free hand over Savannah’s mouth and whispered against her cheek. “Don’t make a sound, remember.”

Savannah nodded, then Amy slid her hand down again, this time dipping her fingers into her sex. And not just once. Over and over. Two fingers, then three. Savannah’s body reacted exactly as she’d expected. The faster Amy slid in and out, the faster Savannah rolled her hips against Amy’s wrist. If Amy got tendinitis from this, it would be so worth it. She licked a strip along Savannah’s neck and immediately thought of something more delicious to lick. She was desperate for a taste of Savannah and was just about to slide down Savannah like a drop of hot wax, but then Savannah was biting her shoulder, her teeth raking against her skin.

“Did you finish?” she muttered against Savannah’s jaw.

But Savannah didn’t respond. Before Amy could ask again, Savannah flipped her onto her back. It was so quick, so sudden, it took Amy a second to orient herself. The stars were bright above her head, the crescent moon too, but where had Savannah gone?

And then, Savannah’s tongue hit her clit like a hot streak of summer lightning. Amy didn’t even have a chance to wonder how Savannah had managed to slip off Amy’s panties while she was flipping her onto her back. All she could feel was the electric touch of her tongue and the sharpness of her fingernails as she dug into the inside of Amy’s thighs. Obediently, Amy parted her legs, opening herself up even further. She couldn’t help it. Then she bucked against Savannah’s face in what had to be the most inelegant way. Did she care? Not even a little. Not with Savannah dragging her tongue deep through Amy’s center, dipping into and out of her folds over and over until Amy couldn’t buck her hips fast enough. She was fighting every moan that clawed up the back of her throat.

It was as if Savannah knew this. She licked a stripe up to Amy’s clit, then tongued that little bud before she sucked on it. Amy was so close to coming she could literally feel the orgasm spreading through her veins. Twenty seconds later, though it felt like one, Savannah slipped a finger into her and began moving it in and out.

But she had barely gotten to a count of three before Amy’s body exploded. A scream loud enough to wake every animal, every contestant, every member of the camera crew threatened to burst from her throat. The only way to keep from crying out was to sink her teeth hard into her own wrist. Amy would be shocked if she didn’t wake up tomorrow with a dark ring of teeth marks to prove it.

“Did you like that?” Savannah muttered against her ear once she’d crawled back up. She moved to lie next to Amy before slinging her arm over Amy’s bare stomach. “Because it sounded like you did. Or, more accurately, it felt like you did.”

“You have no idea,” Amy said, feeling lighter than a soap bubble. She nearly laughed out loud. Instead, she yawned and felt the sleep that she was desperate for. “Do you think anyone heard?”

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

Amy nodded. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and she didn’t fight it. She turned her head just enough to kiss Savannah’s temple, breathed in the sweet scent of her skin, and let the darkness pull her under.

Then, all of a sudden, a voice yelled, and Amy’s eyes snapped open.

It was already morning. The sun was up above the horizon, and the sky was streaked with soft ribbons of pink that were rapidly being swallowed by a bright blue.

“What the hell is this?” a voice suddenly shot out.

Before Amy could even register the voice, she was scrambling back to her side of the bed, her hand instinctively going out to push herself away from Savannah. Shit. They were caught red-handed, and Amy was literally still naked. How were they going to explain what they’d done last night?

But her palm hit air instead. Savannah wasn’t in bed. Her side of the mattress was empty.

“What’s going on?” Amy asked, dragging herself upright and tugging the sheet up with her. Then she tried to act as normally as possible, though who was she actually fooling? She rubbed the sleep from her eyes just as Luna marched toward her. Most mornings, Amy needed a good five minutes to remember where she was. She usually started with the neon-pink flamingo lamp perched on the armoire, then moved on to the framed photo of Barnaby licking his paw on the nightstand. This morning, one look at the fury on Luna’s face snapped her fully awake.

“I can’t believe you two,” Luna said, seething. She waved a small scrap of paper violently in the air. “This was lying on the ground. Care to explain?”

Amy squinted at the paper, then, a second later, a light bulb went off in her head. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Shit is right,” Luna scolded, shaking her head in disappointment. “I can’t believe you had the chance to invite two of us to enjoy the reward and you decided not to. Do you have any idea how selfish that was?” She slapped the card against her palm with a loud thwack.

But Amy stopped listening. Her eyes were frantically scanning the beach, the lean-to, and the tree line. Where the hell was Savannah?

Chapter Fourteen

To say that Savannah was torn would be an understatement. Half of her was panicking that they’d completely fucked up their chances of winning this game with the whole note thing. Not that she regretted hoarding the reward for just the two of them, just that she wished she’d fed that damn piece of paper to the fire. The other half of her wished she could be airlifted from this island this very minute.

After last night, Savannah couldn’t look at Amy without feeling a ridiculous, mushy, feather-floating-through-the-air kind of airy flutter in her chest. She wanted to hold Amy’s hand. She wanted to drag Amy around her favorite corner of West Village and grab oat milk lattes from Buvette before they ducked into Three Lives & Company. She wanted to slip through the cramped, paper-scented aisles until they stumbled on Spurred and Spanked and then bask in the late-afternoon lull on Grove Street. They could sit outside Via Carota with a plate of cacio e pepe, a crisp insalata verde and two glasses of Vermentino while they watched the golden light hit the brownstones. She wanted to bump her knee against Amy’s under the tiny table, then wander hand-in-hand down St. Luke’s Place beneath a canopy of trees only to sit on the riverfront lawn as the sun dipped behind New Jersey. Then she wanted to show Amy Little Branch after dark, order her a Bee’s Knees, and thereafter take her to Olio E Più, where they could share a pizza capri and a lemon and burrata tagliatelle that literally made Savannah’s mouth water. By the time New York finally yawned, she wanted to take Amy back to her penthouse, lead her past the sweeping floor-to-ceiling views that, more often than not, made Savannah feel incredibly small and useless in this life, and show her a real bed.

She wanted all of it.