Psychological Control

Chapter 52

In the cabin, I changed into a bathrobe and leaned against the bed, watching Dillon sit in push-ups on the floor between the two beds. The cameraman who had been following us had withdrawn, and it was clear that the crew really meant to give us a good rest.

I spent a good chunk of the free time after lunch just staying motionless in bed. Soaking up the sunlight falling through the seaward windows of my chalet, for the first time I had the feeling that Fiji was really a popular tourist holiday destination. The weekday life on a deserted island really proved that Survivor wasn't the wrong name for the show.

"You've got some strength." I watched breathlessly as Dillon turned around to sit up in sit-ups after doing a hundred push-ups.

Hearing my words, Dillon stopped moving for a moment. Sitting with his hands propped on the floor behind him, he looked sideways at me. "It's a habit of mine to maintain a certain amount of physical exercise each day. The intensity of the survivors is nothing compared to the amount of training you'd get in the army. Besides, are you really going to stay in bed all afternoon?"

"No..." my entire body shrank back under the covers, answering him with some hesitation in my tone. I knew what he meant, because this resort had special services like artificial spas and relaxing massages. These were included in the rewards, and it would be a waste not to enjoy them. We'd suggested trying one together at dinner.

But this soft comforter was too comfortable and tempting. I hadn't been off the floor since I got back to my room after dinner and laid down on the bed. For a while, I really wanted to sleep until tomorrow and sleep for the next ten hours or so.

"Come down and squeeze my legs for me, don't keep lying in bed. You'll only get sleepier and sleepier. You'll have enough sleep for the night. If you sleep too much now, your muscles will be too relaxed and you'll suffer when you get back." Dillon offered.

I don't know when it started, maybe after the merger. Unknowingly Dillon and I got along surprisingly naturally. Especially when there were no interests at stake, the atmosphere in which we stayed together did not feel like we were in a social game of hook-ups.

Because I didn't have to make a conscious effort to maintain that pretentious gesture of friendliness in his presence. Dillon had known about my and Red's little antics and ambitions from the start, so it didn't matter if I pretended or not.

But even if we got along naturally, helping him press his legs...being so close to him face to face while he was doing sit-ups? ...I felt my expression freeze for a moment at Dillon's suggestion, a line of thoughts running through my head.

"Come on, having someone on your feet to help with the crunches won't tire your back." Dillon urged, quite naturally.

To be honest, I couldn't tell until now if Dillon he was bent or straight. Because all the contact I've had with him, he's acted so natural. So natural that I felt like I was being a bit paranoid. But sometimes, some of the conversations sounded like flirting to my ears. Hesitantly, I sat up straight and moved over to the bed and got off.

Dropping to one knee in front of him, I reached out and pressed my hands against his ankles. His skin was hot, probably because he had been exercising, and the cold stimulation of my ten fingers made his bent knee legs pull back a little.

Leaning closer I could smell the scent of his body wash from his previous shower, evaporated by the heat from the exercise. Dillon laid his upper body back down on the ground after seeing me press down on the back of his feet. I watched as he raised his hands to the back of his head, his short sleeves pulled up to highlight the muscles in his arms.