Kayla Collins

Kayla Collins stops traffic. At 5'2" with that petite frame and every inch of her untouched by the surgeon's knife, she has a way of owning a room before she even opens her mouth. Holly Madison spotted her on Myspace, booked the flight, and the next thing Kayla knew she was Miss August 2008—straight from scooping ice cream to a centerfold in one careless, perfect leap. "I was slinging cones one day and waking up in the Mansion the next," she laughs. "Still feels like I stole somebody else's life." She's been on "The Girls Next Door," dragged through the jungle on "I'm a Celebrity," and onto Nick Cannon's "School Dance," but her real currency is the way her body answers gravity: full tits that sit high, a waist you can almost circle with two hands, hips that flare into a round, heavy ass that sways when she walks barefoot across marble. In L.A. the modeling work keeps coming, and she moves through it the way a cat moves through sunlight—unhurried, sure of her heat. Men stare. Women stare. Kayla just smiles, orders another coffee, and lets the moment do the rest.