Island Curves (A BBW Romance) by Virginia Wade Page A

asked. “Enjoy the
air-conditioning while it lasts.” I was not an outdoor kind of
girl, and I feared the castaway environment we would soon find
ourselves in.
    “Maybe we should make an alliance right now,”
said Susan. “We might as well start playin’ the game. Looks like
the guys are already strategizing.”
    Loren nodded. “Good idea.”
    I glanced at my teammates. “I don’t know how
much of an asset I’m gonna be, guys. I’m not exactly G.I.
Jane.”
    Susan eyed me. “It takes more than physical
strength to win. Showing up with somebody watchin’ your back is an
advantage.”
    I whispered, “I’m fine with that.”
    “I’m in,” murmured Loren. “Those guys look
awfully tight already.” They had been huddled together, whispering
fiercely.
    “Oh, I bet they have the whole thing worked
out,” I said. There was a movement out of the corner of my eye, and
a man appeared, rolling his suitcase behind him. He was tall,
solidly built, and far too handsome, with light brown hair, a
strong jaw line, and muscles bulging from his arms and thighs.
    “Ooohh, hello. Look at that,” murmured Loren,
appreciation shining in her dark eyes.
    I giggled, and he glanced my way, making eye
contact. A silky shot of awareness raced through me, the delicious
sensations causing my tummy to flip over and tingle. I hadn’t been
expecting that reaction, and I glanced away quickly, slightly
worried and confused. The new comer high-fived the men, and they
embraced Mr. Muscle, including him in their secretive
conversation.
    “All right, listen up, people,” announced the
game show representative. “We’re ready to board now. Follow me,
please.”
    As we left the airport, the humidity was
considerable, dampening my skin on contact. My long, blonde hair
wasn’t prone to frizziness, but the moisture would be a test for
the thick strands. We climbed the stairs of the plane and sat
together, chatting and laughing, while the men continued to huddle,
whispering and conspiring to dominate. I wasn’t going to waste my
energy on such frivolous pursuits. I wanted to make friends and
enjoy my time in paradise, whether I succeeded or not.
    Upon landing, we were met by a series of
ATV’s, which we climbed into and headed for the shore. My new
friends, Loren and Susan were with me; our luggage was in a truck
that followed. We bounced over the tropical terrain, ferns,
mangroves, and bamboo whizzing by in a blur of bright green. The
scenery was absolutely gorgeous, and my senses were on overload,
not being able to comprehend the lush beauty my eyes were seeing.
Within minutes, we were on a white sand beach, with a boat waiting
in the distance. Several dinghies had been dragged onshore, their
native operators waiting to ferry us to the boat.
    “Let the adventure begin!” Susan beamed with
happiness, her face already tanned from the convenience of a
sunbed.
    As I climbed in, I found myself with Mr.
Muscle and several of the men, along with Susan. Loren was in
another boat. Introductions began immediately.
    “I’m Roger,” said the older man.
    “Chuck.”
    “David,” said Mr. Muscle.
    “Marissa.”
    He stared at me, and again my tummy began to
tingle, which was strange. His tanned features morphed into a
pleasing grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
    One of the younger women, Ashley, gushed,
“Omigod! I can’t wait! It’s finally starting.” She chattered on
inanely about nothing in particular, the men listening attentively,
including David.
    Ugh, men. They always go for the bimbos.
    On the boat, the game began in earnest. We
were introduced to several producers and given instructions as to
which items we were allowed to bring from our luggage. Several
changes of clothing, medications, and prescription eyewear were
allowed, but no hairbrushes, toothbrushes or makeup. We were about
to be separated and sent back to the island aboard several native
catamarans equipped with camera operators. My private life would
soon be over,