The next evening, her head propped on her hand, Scheme watched what had to be the sixth hour of some insane rerun.
Of course it wasn’t any more insane than the urges she was fighting within herself. The need to join Tanner on the couch, to stretch out along his hard body and run her tongue over every inch of his golden flesh.
Instead, she was forcing herself to watching some incurably deranged sitcom.
Gilligan’s Island? It had been ancient even when she was a child. Not that she had ever watched it. Her father hadn’t considered television a productive form of entertainment for his child. But sometimes, at the girls’ academy she had attended, the other students had watched it.
Scheme had managed to drown it out then while she studied. There was nothing to study now. Except Tanner.
He was stretched out on the couch, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arm thrown behind his neck as he watched the show with a quirk on his lips. He was impossibly relaxed despite the obvious hard-on filling out his jeans. Despite the tension building inside her.
“CNN is much more informative,” she finally said, dazed from yet another of Gilligan’s bumbling accidents as well as her own arousal.
“CNN is depressing,” he grunted with a spark of amusement as he kept his gaze on the television. “I’m pretty up on world affairs. And this is my vacation. I don’t watch CNN on vacation. ”
“Do you do anything besides watch television while you’re on vacation?” she asked, frustrated. “As long as I’ve been here, I have yet to see you do anything worthwhile. ”
“I fuck while I’m on vacation too,” he answered, not taking his eyes from the television. “Want to provide that little entertainment for me? We had fun with it last night. ”
She glowered back at him.
“Didn’t think so. ” He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen. “You know, darlin’, you need to decide one way or the other what you want here. ”
She sighed in complete boredom. Even the books on the shelf were light reading rather than anything thought-worthy. There were even romances. Not that she didn’t enjoy romances, as long as they were explicit in nature and hot enough to singe. The ones on the shelf weren’t.
“You’re killing me,” she said and sighed. “If you’re out to torture me, you’ve succeeded. ”
He flicked his gaze over to her with a hint of sexual heat.
“How did I manage that?” The action on the screen drew his gaze back.
“You’ve watched at least six hours of this, Tanner. Gilligan is getting on my nerves here,” she sneered. “He’s a twit. He couldn’t walk down a city street without being shot for stupidity. ”
“He’s not on a city street. ” He grinned, a chuckle leaving his lips as a man in an obvious gorilla suit terrorized the castaways. The show wasn’t exactly heavy on special effects.
“It’s a good thing. A twelve-year-old has more common sense. ”
“It’s a show, Scheme,” he chastised her gently. “It’s for your enjoyment. It’s not attempting to mirror reality. ”
“Good thing. ” She rolled her eyes. “A little reality break would be nice though. A half hour of CNN might save my sanity. ”
“Your sanity isn’t high on my list of priorities,” he assured her, chuckling at Gilligan’s predicament once again.
She pulled herself to her feet, wrapping her arms across her chest as she began to pace the room. Not that it bothered him. In the past hours she had learned there was very little that pulled his attention from that asinine rerun.
“Where are we at least?” she asked. “You could tell me that much. ”
“In the middle of a mountain,” he answered drolly.
She hated men. She really did.
“Where is the mountain?” she grated out.
“In a mountain chain. ”
“Which frickin’ mountain chain, Tanner? For God’s sake, you could at least tell me where I’m at. ”
She turned and glared at him. He hadn’t taken his attention from the show. He was, for the most part, ignoring her.