Playing Games
Page 38
As we left, I glanced back at my brother and Tesla. She still hadn't moved from her spot on the ground, though Brodie was slinging backpacks onto his back. And I felt a twinge of pity for my brother.
They were still at the head of the pack at the moment. Maybe he wouldn't need the Ace at all. Maybe all my worrying was for nothing.
~~ * * * ~~
We arrived first at the makeshift stadium. It had been set up like a Greek amphitheater amongst the rocks, but at the center was a large circular grassy area, and a row of five, burly men in stiff leather pants. Off to the side was a small changing tent. This was going to be the oiled up challenge? Weird.
Liam left our packs with me, and I sat down on them and drank a bottle of water as he bounded to the flag. He glanced over at me as he received the disk, and then began to read. And then groaned aloud, looking back at me. "Turkish Oil Wrestling," he called at me.
I gave him a thumbs up. "Go get oily!"
He raced to the changing booth, grabbed something from the ground, and disappeared inside the booth. I glanced around, looking for Brodie and Tesla. The stadium was only a short walk from where the balloons had landed. They should have been here by now.
A moment later, Liam stepped out of the booth, wearing the strange pants. They were thick, the material bulky, and reminded me of old fashioned football player pants. It looked as if they were made of leather. He wore no shirt, and I could see the tattoos dancing along his skin, his arms dark with black lines.
He grinned at me, rubbing a hand on his flat belly, and then moved toward the row of waiting men. He pointed at the first one and the man stepped forward. They both moved into the grassy circle.
I tilted my head as the cameraman stepped past, zooming in, and the judge moved forward, a carafe in hand. He began to pour the oil over the thickly muscled chest of the short, stocky man directly across from Liam - his opponent - and then on Liam's chest. His opponent reached forward and began to spread the oil on Liam's chest. Liam hesitated, then awkwardly returned the gesture.
My jaw dropped a little, and I leaned forward, fascinated by the two men as they oiled each other up. Then, they stepped forward. As they did, two other men came out and demonstrated the proper way to wrestle.
I tilted my head even more when one man stuck his hand down the other's pants and hovered over him, squatting.
That was…weird.
The man continued to hold the other man by his pants. It was also apparently legal, since the judge nodded approval at the pair, and they got up and clapped hands in a sporting gesture.
Oookay.
Then it was Liam's turn.
The judge blew the whistle and stepped back. Liam immediately moved into a fighting stance, all oily muscles and slick tattoos, and I admit, I got a little turned on just watching him move.
It didn't last long, though. His opponent gave him a minute, then quickly flipped him with a well-placed leg. Oily arms grappled and slid against each other, and then Liam landed hard on the ground, the other man over him.
And the man shoved his hand into Liam's pants to pin him.
I couldn't help it. I giggled.
Liam shot me a glare, his face flushed with irritation. Clearly not high on his list of fun challenges. I smothered my laugh and tried to look sympathetic.
The judge shook his head and blew the whistle. "No. I'm sorry,” he told Liam. “Try again."
The man let Liam up, and my partner got to his feet, adjusting his pants and brushing the long black hair out of his face. He shook himself off, then gave a nod of readiness.
The judge blew the whistle again.
It was clear that the wrestler Liam faced was trying to go easy on him. He held his hands out, ready to counteract a move, but he also wasn't exactly being aggressive. He waited for Liam to move, and then when Liam lurched forward, grabbed him by the pants and slammed him to the ground again.
This time? I winced. That didn't look like fun. Liam wasn’t quite sure how to handle his oily opponent. He rubbed his gleaming shoulder and rotated it, as if the muscles ached, and dragged himself back to his feet again.
Someone ran up beside me. A backpack dropped and Brodie flopped down beside me. "Hey."
I watched as Tesla dropped her pack next to Brodie and stepped forward to receive her clue. This was her challenge. Oh, this was not going to go well for them.
Brodie squinted and watched as Liam went down for the third time. "Did that dude just shove his hand in Liam's pants?"
"Turkish oil wrestling," I explained. At least, I hoped that was part of the schtick and not just an overly handsy wrestler.
"Ah," Brodie said, as if that explained everything.
"So what took you guys so long? You left the same time we did."
"Tesla needed a few minutes to recharge her chakras," Brodie said in a deadpan voice. "She insisted on doing some yoga to align her spirits or some shit."
"Seriously?"
He twirled a finger near his ear, indicating his partner's insanity. "She's lucky she's hot."
"Yeah," I said in a snide voice. "It's so much better to have a hot partner than a capable one." Speaking of hot partners…I looked over at my greased-up rock star and felt a familiar quiver in my loins when he grappled the man he was wrestling, his muscles flexing. Oooh, he was getting better at this.
A moment later, he flew over the man's shoulder and thumped onto the ground. The man turned him over and shoved a hand down his pants again.
Liam cussed under his breath.
Brodie howled with delight, clearly enjoying Liam's discomfort.
I shoved my brother. "Shut up, already."
"Maybe you should have done this one, Katy," Brodie said, but it was loud enough for Liam to hear. He glanced over his shoulder at us, and the look on his face was narrow-eyed.
"Quit being a jerk," I told my brother, and clapped my hands to encourage Liam. "You've almost got it," I called to him. "Just ignore everything but your opponent."
"Holy mother," Brodie breathed, and I turned to where his gaze was centered. Tesla had moved out into the ring with her opponent, dressed in her yellow team sports bra and a pair of the odd leather pants. The judge seemed to enjoy pouring the oil on her, and her opponent ran slick hands over her, looking rather pleased that he'd gotten the job. The other wrestlers were watching her get oiled up, too.
And then the whistle sounded, and she faced off with her opponent. Tesla danced around him, bobbing and weaving in light motions that surprised me. Maybe when she had her chakras aligned, Tesla was light on her feet. Or something. Either way, she managed to slid behind her wrestling partner and almost pinned him to the ground before he grabbed her and flipped her over.
The moment Tesla hit the grass, Liam hit again.
On the next round, though, she got it. My jaw dropped as I watched Tesla slide over her opponent and shove her hand down the man's pants. And that guy looked like he was enjoying it. Yeah, he probably hadn't been trying too hard to fight her off. Who'd want to fend off a beautiful oily woman that wanted to get her hands on you?
"Winner," the judge announced, and handed Tesla her disk.
"Yeah!" Brodie leapt to his feet, pumping a fist in the air. "Hot damn, way to go, girl. You rocked that."
They were still at the head of the pack at the moment. Maybe he wouldn't need the Ace at all. Maybe all my worrying was for nothing.
~~ * * * ~~
We arrived first at the makeshift stadium. It had been set up like a Greek amphitheater amongst the rocks, but at the center was a large circular grassy area, and a row of five, burly men in stiff leather pants. Off to the side was a small changing tent. This was going to be the oiled up challenge? Weird.
Liam left our packs with me, and I sat down on them and drank a bottle of water as he bounded to the flag. He glanced over at me as he received the disk, and then began to read. And then groaned aloud, looking back at me. "Turkish Oil Wrestling," he called at me.
I gave him a thumbs up. "Go get oily!"
He raced to the changing booth, grabbed something from the ground, and disappeared inside the booth. I glanced around, looking for Brodie and Tesla. The stadium was only a short walk from where the balloons had landed. They should have been here by now.
A moment later, Liam stepped out of the booth, wearing the strange pants. They were thick, the material bulky, and reminded me of old fashioned football player pants. It looked as if they were made of leather. He wore no shirt, and I could see the tattoos dancing along his skin, his arms dark with black lines.
He grinned at me, rubbing a hand on his flat belly, and then moved toward the row of waiting men. He pointed at the first one and the man stepped forward. They both moved into the grassy circle.
I tilted my head as the cameraman stepped past, zooming in, and the judge moved forward, a carafe in hand. He began to pour the oil over the thickly muscled chest of the short, stocky man directly across from Liam - his opponent - and then on Liam's chest. His opponent reached forward and began to spread the oil on Liam's chest. Liam hesitated, then awkwardly returned the gesture.
My jaw dropped a little, and I leaned forward, fascinated by the two men as they oiled each other up. Then, they stepped forward. As they did, two other men came out and demonstrated the proper way to wrestle.
I tilted my head even more when one man stuck his hand down the other's pants and hovered over him, squatting.
That was…weird.
The man continued to hold the other man by his pants. It was also apparently legal, since the judge nodded approval at the pair, and they got up and clapped hands in a sporting gesture.
Oookay.
Then it was Liam's turn.
The judge blew the whistle and stepped back. Liam immediately moved into a fighting stance, all oily muscles and slick tattoos, and I admit, I got a little turned on just watching him move.
It didn't last long, though. His opponent gave him a minute, then quickly flipped him with a well-placed leg. Oily arms grappled and slid against each other, and then Liam landed hard on the ground, the other man over him.
And the man shoved his hand into Liam's pants to pin him.
I couldn't help it. I giggled.
Liam shot me a glare, his face flushed with irritation. Clearly not high on his list of fun challenges. I smothered my laugh and tried to look sympathetic.
The judge shook his head and blew the whistle. "No. I'm sorry,” he told Liam. “Try again."
The man let Liam up, and my partner got to his feet, adjusting his pants and brushing the long black hair out of his face. He shook himself off, then gave a nod of readiness.
The judge blew the whistle again.
It was clear that the wrestler Liam faced was trying to go easy on him. He held his hands out, ready to counteract a move, but he also wasn't exactly being aggressive. He waited for Liam to move, and then when Liam lurched forward, grabbed him by the pants and slammed him to the ground again.
This time? I winced. That didn't look like fun. Liam wasn’t quite sure how to handle his oily opponent. He rubbed his gleaming shoulder and rotated it, as if the muscles ached, and dragged himself back to his feet again.
Someone ran up beside me. A backpack dropped and Brodie flopped down beside me. "Hey."
I watched as Tesla dropped her pack next to Brodie and stepped forward to receive her clue. This was her challenge. Oh, this was not going to go well for them.
Brodie squinted and watched as Liam went down for the third time. "Did that dude just shove his hand in Liam's pants?"
"Turkish oil wrestling," I explained. At least, I hoped that was part of the schtick and not just an overly handsy wrestler.
"Ah," Brodie said, as if that explained everything.
"So what took you guys so long? You left the same time we did."
"Tesla needed a few minutes to recharge her chakras," Brodie said in a deadpan voice. "She insisted on doing some yoga to align her spirits or some shit."
"Seriously?"
He twirled a finger near his ear, indicating his partner's insanity. "She's lucky she's hot."
"Yeah," I said in a snide voice. "It's so much better to have a hot partner than a capable one." Speaking of hot partners…I looked over at my greased-up rock star and felt a familiar quiver in my loins when he grappled the man he was wrestling, his muscles flexing. Oooh, he was getting better at this.
A moment later, he flew over the man's shoulder and thumped onto the ground. The man turned him over and shoved a hand down his pants again.
Liam cussed under his breath.
Brodie howled with delight, clearly enjoying Liam's discomfort.
I shoved my brother. "Shut up, already."
"Maybe you should have done this one, Katy," Brodie said, but it was loud enough for Liam to hear. He glanced over his shoulder at us, and the look on his face was narrow-eyed.
"Quit being a jerk," I told my brother, and clapped my hands to encourage Liam. "You've almost got it," I called to him. "Just ignore everything but your opponent."
"Holy mother," Brodie breathed, and I turned to where his gaze was centered. Tesla had moved out into the ring with her opponent, dressed in her yellow team sports bra and a pair of the odd leather pants. The judge seemed to enjoy pouring the oil on her, and her opponent ran slick hands over her, looking rather pleased that he'd gotten the job. The other wrestlers were watching her get oiled up, too.
And then the whistle sounded, and she faced off with her opponent. Tesla danced around him, bobbing and weaving in light motions that surprised me. Maybe when she had her chakras aligned, Tesla was light on her feet. Or something. Either way, she managed to slid behind her wrestling partner and almost pinned him to the ground before he grabbed her and flipped her over.
The moment Tesla hit the grass, Liam hit again.
On the next round, though, she got it. My jaw dropped as I watched Tesla slide over her opponent and shove her hand down the man's pants. And that guy looked like he was enjoying it. Yeah, he probably hadn't been trying too hard to fight her off. Who'd want to fend off a beautiful oily woman that wanted to get her hands on you?
"Winner," the judge announced, and handed Tesla her disk.
"Yeah!" Brodie leapt to his feet, pumping a fist in the air. "Hot damn, way to go, girl. You rocked that."
