The next three weeks in the Riviera Maya house pass in a haze of stupid and pointless physical challenges, trips to tropical locations, historical tours, and spending every waking minute trying not to corner Anya in a hallway and ravage the hell out of her.

It hasn’t helped that we haven’t gotten a moment alone together in weeks. Carrie watches us like hawks, and despite constant challenges and competitions, no one has been eliminated. According to Rose, who has become our “woman on the inside,” everything that we’ve been doing will be chopped and cut together with random elimination scenes at the end. In the last few days we’re here, Anya will make her decision, sending guys home then. But it’s easier for Carrie to decide what works and what doesn’t if she has a lot to choose from. That means we’ve all spent the last weeks covered in bumps and scrapes and bruises, exhausted, complaining, and going to bed early even when Carrie is trying to keep us up for party scenes.

No one has been crankier about any of it than Grill. Ever since he got called out that day on the boat, he has been an even bigger asshole, pushing everyone around, and acting like there is a cash prize and political office associated with winning the show. It’s getting to the point where I can tell that Carrie is losing patience with him, and I suspect he might disappear faster than the rest of expected.

It’s 8am, and I’m up earlier than everyone else again. Last night, we went to some random club in town, and stayed out with the camera crew until two in the morning. The other guys got drunk and had a great time, but I spent most of the night at the bar, sipping a single glass of whiskey and trying to avoid talking to anyone. I also watched Anya, having a blast as she danced with Max and Alex, and gave Grill dead legs any time he got too close to her. To be honest, that was the most entertaining part of the night.

I don’t know why I’m up so early, other than the fact I haven’t really been sleeping the last few weeks. Every time I close my eyes, I think about the fact that Anya is only a few steps away, and the only things separating us are the rules of this stupid show. But I can’t even begin to imagine the hell that Carrie would rain down on us if we left, especially when Rose told me about the last contestants who did that. The production company took them to court for breach of contract, and the last thing my band needs right now, on top of my stupidity, is a lawsuit.

I dive into the pool and swim laps until my muscles burn. The only thing that keeps me grounded to the earth right now is my daily ritual of swimming until I feel like I’m going to sink down to the tiled bottom of the pool. No one bothers me, even Grill, because they know this is my time. We’ve all settled into a kind of reasonable chaos, and despite the fact Carrie wishes there were more conflict, Anya did a good job of choosing the right people to prevent us from embarrassing ourselves in front of a national audience.

Just about the time I feel like I can’t kick for another lap, I surface at the far end of the pool, and come face-to-face with Anya. She’s wearing a little silk nightgown, and her hair is swept up in a messy topknot. She looks beautiful, and I feel my body reacting in a way that I have to press up against the side of the pool to hide.

“Good morning,” I say as I wipe the water from my eyes. She doesn’t answer. She just leans down and whispers in my ear.

“Everyone, including Carrie, is still asleep. My patio door is open. I covered the cameras in my room. You have about two minutes. Get your ass to my bathroom now.”

And then she disappears back into her bedroom. I don’t think twice. I just jump out of the pool, grab a towel to wrap around my waist, and chase after her as fast as I can. I scurry through the open patio door that leads to her bedroom and slide it quietly behind me, careful not to make too much noise.

We’re not supposed to be together like this, Carrie has made that more than perfectly clear, but there is no way I’m going to waste an opportunity to be alone with Anya. I don’t even stop to make sure the cameras really are covered. I just run into her bathroom and shut the door behind me. The door is barely closed before she is wrapped around me, kissing me, running her hands up and down my dripping body. After these long weeks of merely watching her from afar, my cock responds instantly as I spring to immediate attention with her touch.

“Wait, wait,” I try to push her away enough to get a quick word in. “Even though the cameras are covered, aren’t they still recording sound?”

She pauses for a moment. “God, you’re right. Do me a favor and turn on the shower.”

We reluctantly part, and I walk across the enormous bathroom to the shower, turning it on full blast. “Will that be enough?” I ask.

I turn around to see Anya next to her Jacuzzi tub fumbling with a CD player. She cranks up some jazz music to full volume. “I’m sorry, it’s all they gave me,” she looks at me, partially embarrassed. “However, they’ll at least think that I’m trying to hear the music while showering.”

She slowly walks back over to me, giving me an extended look at her incredible body, which is being perfectly silhouetted by the sexy nightie she still has on. Her breasts bounce lightly as she strides, and her hips sway in an enticing motion that makes it impossible to keep my hands off of her. She strolls right into my arms, her hands grasping my face as she kisses me again.

“We still don’t have much time. We have to hurry,” she murmurs, her hands diving directly down my swim trunks, grabbing my cock with her hands. She follows them down to the floor, kneeling in front of me.

“Anya, what are you…“ I can’t finish my thought as her soft tongue meets my shaft. I lean back against the enormous double sink vanity, grasping onto the ledge to balance myself. Anya begins to slowly work me, kissing my cock, mixing in the tiniest of nibbles that send shivers through me. Her tongue traces my tip, torturing me until finally, she takes me fully into her mouth. Grasping one hand around my manhood, she works her way up and down, her tongue dancing around me as she sucks softly.

“Oh my god, ANYA!” I cry out, praying that the cameras don’t pick up my voice. She knows exactly how to push every one of my buttons, driving me wild with desire. My eyes roll into the back of my head as Anya begins to speed up her pace, moaning as she feels my cock twitching with anticipation. I’m becoming completely unhinged trying to contain my orgasm.

I place my hands on her shoulders and push her back from me. “You’re going to make me cum, and I haven’t had the chance to take care of you yet.” She smiles, and stands up, kissing me hard again.

I reach up and hook one finger around each of the tiny straps holding up her nightgown and easily slide them off of her. The dress falls to the floor, and I have to catch my breath as I admire her. I hope I never have to stop seeing such a perfect view. I pull her close to me, and kiss her deeply once more before turning her around to look at the mirror.

“You are stunning, baby.” I whisper into her ear as I reach around, fondling her breasts carefully. I feel her body tense up, sensing how desperately she wants to be touched.

Anya takes a deep breath and looks squarely into my eyes in the mirror. “I have a favor to ask,” she asks confidently.

“Anything,” I reply.

“I want to watch us joined together. With everything going one, these moments with you are the only thing keeping me sane. I want this exact memory ingrained in my head for forever.”

I am awed by both her admission and her request. “Of course,” I manage to choke out. Truth be told, the moments I have stolen with her have been the happiest of my life since college.

Anya bends over the vanity, her breasts cascading towards the marble tile. She shivers quickly as her nipples touch the cold rock. I run my hands slowly down her back, admiring every inch of her skin, before stopping at her hips. I let one hand continue to travel in between her open legs, feeling her desire reaching her slit. Taking one finger, I slowly part her further and run one finger up towards her clit. I stroke her forwards and back, slowly, methodically, watching her twitch and strain with need. I stop momentarily, and guide my cock towards her opening, pausing just before entering her.

“Please, Daniel,” she implores.

I firmly grasp both of her hips, lifting her slightly, positioning myself to take her. But, before I do, I look up into the mirror, catching her gaze. I know I am completely in love with this woman, and I hope she can see it in my eyes. Without breaking eye contact, I slowly push myself into her.

Anya and I watch each other intently as I begin to push myself in and out of her. For several perfect minutes, we undulate in complete synchronicity, our bodies rocking together as we watch our union. I begin to see her grip on the marble tighten, and I can tell she’s close. In response, I begin to speed up, hoping to push her over the edge. I am awash with pleasure as my release rises, my movements becoming jerkier. Suddenly, I can’t wait any longer. I shove myself deeply into her as I come, and I hear her shout “Daniel!” simultaneously, feeling her tighten around me in her orgasm. The perfect ending to this moment, finishing together.

I pull myself out of her, and she stands up to face me.

“I will never forget this,” I croon into her hair as I hold her tightly. I never want to leave this bathroom, as long as she’s here with me. She smiles at me and brushes her fingertips across my face.

“How the hell are we going to get out of this room without drawing any attention to ourselves?” she says with a throaty, exhausted, whisper. I kiss her again with a laugh, already hating how lost I feel I feel when we are disconnected from each other. I kiss her cheeks, and her forehead, and then the tip of her nose.

“I’ll worry about getting out of here without getting caught. But one question first. What the hell brought that on?”

Anya chuckles. “I’ve been watching you swim every morning for the last three weeks. I set my alarms so I’m up twenty minutes before you, and then I just watch you swim. I guess I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to feel you inside of me again. It had been too damn long.”

“You’re a stalker!” I say as I playfully poke her in the sides, making her laugh.

“Maybe I am. What the hell else do I have to do in this house in the morning? Watch Max and Alex pretend not to flirt with each other over their coffee?”

I slap the floor beside me. “Right? I knew it wasn’t just me! There is something going on there!”

Anya grabs for her nightgown and slips it back down over her head. “Why do you think I kept them here? Not because I thought I was going to end up marrying either of them. And certainly not because Carrie told me to. I wanted them to get to know each other. I didn’t know if I was going to find love, but I figured someone should. Other than Rose and Garrett anyway.”

I was just about to walk out, but that makes me spin around. “Rose and Garrett what now?”

Anya rolls her eyes. “That’s a story for another time. You need to get out of here before Carrie wakes up, or one of the other guys sees you sneaking out of here. Because then we’ll never hear the end of it.”

I nod, then lean down and give her another kiss. “Do you know what spectacular adventure Carrie has planned for us today?”

“Nope. But it will be mind-numbing and exhausting I’m sure. Now get out of here!” Anya throws my towel at me and I poke my head out of the bathroom, checking to make sure the cameras are still covered. Then I tip-toe to the patio door and peek out the glass to make sure no one has shown up the pool yet. When I see it’s still empty, I slide the door open, creep out, the slide it shut again and jog over to a lounge chair where I grab a seat. Once I’m safely in the protection of the patio, I allow myself to sigh happily. I may not get to spend every minute here with Anya, but every minute we do get to spend together is amazing, and it’s gotten to the point where I cherish it more than I ever thought possible.

I’m sitting in the lounge, lost in thought, when Max comes wandering out, cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. I give him a curious look.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to have access to those,” I say, pointing at the newspaper.

“I convinced Carrie to make an exception since I’m not exactly angling for the winning position here. Anyway, did you hear the big story on today’s front page?” Max asks as he unfolds the paper.

“No…”

“Headline all about how you just snuck into Anya’s room and didn’t come back out for twenty minutes,” he answers without looking up. I snatch the paper out of his hands and then smack him with it.

“What were you doing? Spying on us?”

He grabs the paper back, then folds it up and sets it on the ground next to him. “No, I wasn’t spying on you, paranoid. I was getting my coffee and happened to look out the door when you and Anya planned your little escapade. Listen, you know I’m rooting for you two when this is all over. Anyone with eyes can see what is happening between you and her. But if you keep pushing Carrie, you’re going to get it. I don’t know what it is, but you’re going to get it.”

I lean back in the chair and sigh. I know he’s right. If Carrie catches us, we’re screwed. And the last thing I want is to mess things up worse for myself, the band, or even Anya, when I get out of here. But at the same time…

How do you stay away from the only woman you’ve ever loved?