Mr. Man Candy: A Fake Boyfriend Romance

by Alessandra Hart

  “Yes.”

  “Marriage is different. It’s work sometimes, but it’s not a job. You’re not going to wake up one day and feel nothing for Bobby, right out of the blue.”

  She nodded slowly. “See, deep down, I already know that. Like, duh! I wouldn’t be ready to get married if I didn’t know that. But then I still worry anyway. God, I’m being so stupid.” She puffed out a breath of air. “This is what they call pre-wedding jitters, isn’t it?”

  “Yup.”

  She looked down at her lap, then back up at me. “I thought so. So this was my question for you. Did you feel this way?” Her voice was low and tentative. “I’m sorry to bring it up,” she added hurriedly. “I just don’t know anyone else who’s been engaged or married before. Apart from Mom, but we all know how easily she waltzes down the aisle. No jitters there, clearly.”

  I sighed and thought back to the days before my engagement broke off. “It’s fine. And honestly? No. I didn’t get all that many jitters. But maybe that should’ve been a sign that I wasn’t thinking about our relationship enough. If I did, maybe I would’ve picked up on what he was secretly thinking. Maybe I would’ve realized he was banging my best friend.”

  “That wasn’t your fault. Matt is a piece of shit. So is Elena.”

  Elena was my ex-best friend—the one my ex-fiancé slept with. I still clearly remembered walking in on them on the morning of the wedding. They’d tried to claim it meant nothing, and that the ceremony could still go ahead. It was simple tension relief, Matthew told me, and I was the one he truly wanted.

  Yeah, right.

  “I know,” I said bitterly. “It was their fault. They’re shitty people.”

  “Right. And now you have Nate, who isn’t shitty.”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “I have Nate…”

  Oh, how I wished that were entirely true. I wished it with every fiber of my being. But it wasn’t going to happen.

  Nate and I were just pretend.

  Libby drummed her fingers on the edge of her sun lounge. “Speaking of Nate, I’ve decided I have a resolution about him and Bobby,” she declared. “I think it’ll help both of us.”

  “What is it?”

  “Even if it kills me, I’ll make them sort out their issues. Nate needs to get over it and realize that someone else took all that money. Some random computer hacker or something; I don’t know. But it wasn’t Bobby!” she said.

  I smiled at her earnestness. “Good luck with that,” I said. I sat up straighter. “Speaking of exorbitant amounts of money, I can’t believe Bobby bought those earrings for Mom. They’re gorgeous, but they must’ve cost a bucket-load.”

  Libby scratched her cheek. “What earrings?”

  “The chunky teardrop diamond ones.”

  She frowned and tilted her head slightly to one side. “When I asked her about them, she told me you bought them for her.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Um… well, I didn’t. She told me Bobby got them for her as a gift. Those Rockstuds, too.”

  Libby’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god! She told me you got her the shoes as well. And also that Chanel bag she’s been carrying everywhere. She said you got some sort of bonus at work and decided to give her some early birthday presents.”

  “I didn’t buy her anything,” I insisted.

  “Well, neither did Bobby,” Libby said.

  We stared at each other for a moment, confusion mirrored in each other’s expressions. If I didn’t buy Mom’s expensive new toys, and Bobby didn’t either… who the hell did?

  “Do you think she’s seeing a new guy?” Libby asked, seemingly reading my thoughts.

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Where else would she get the cash to afford those things? I know she’s not broke, but she’s not really in a position to spend that much.”

  “I know.” Libby blew air through her lips as she slowly shook her head. “You know, I did think it was a bit weird when she told me you bought all that stuff for her. Like that Chanel bag. With the way she’s been speaking to you these last few months, I figured she’d be lucky if you bought her a straw tote bag.”

  I snorted. “Oh, so you’ve picked up on that as well, have you?”

  She threw her hands up. “Of course! All she’s done this year is harp on about you being single. Thank god you found Nate, huh? But don’t worry, you aren’t the only one who gets it from her.”

  “Oh?”

  “She gets on my back all the time, too. Only in my case it’s about the wedding. Half the reason Bobby and I wanted a destination wedding was so she couldn’t take over and control every aspect. Did you know she once made me discuss napkin colors with her for like, fifteen straight minutes? Eggshell or ecru—who gives a crap? No one notices napkins!”

  A grin broke out across my face. “Oh my god. That’s exactly what I thought!” I said. “I was on the phone during that conversation, remember?”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s right. God, it drove me nuts.”

  I poked the tip of my tongue out of my mouth as she spoke. “I was a bit worried you’d been indoctrinated into the Bride Cult.”

  She laughed. “Hell no. It’s all Mom. Even though we’re doing everything here, she’s still trying to control as much as she can. She’s even harassing me to do Pilates every morning just to make sure I look extra toned on the big day.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”

  “I wonder why she wouldn’t tell us if she met someone new,” Libby mused, drifting back to our previous subject. “Usually she’s super excited when she meets a new guy. Especially if he’s rich...”

  I nodded, frowning as I pondered the issue. Mom obviously got the money for her extravagant new purchases somewhere. So where? And why did she lie to us about it?

  Clearly, she was hiding something.

  But what?

  20

  Nate

  I leaned back on my bed, laptop balanced on my legs. I had about a thousand work emails to respond to, among other online brokerage-related tasks, so I was taking today to work remotely while everyone recovered from their respective hangovers. Seeing as I’d spent most of last night taking care of Georgie, I hadn’t had a sip of anything alcoholic, so aside from the tiredness after staying up so late, I felt pretty damn good.

  I yawned and shifted my weight. Something with a sharp edge began to dig into my left thigh as I repositioned. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I discovered three more fake wedding Polaroids from last night that I’d forgotten to take out when I got undressed for bed last night.

  I grinned as I looked down at Georgie’s shining eyes and dazzling smile. She was totally out of it, but totally stunning.

  I put the photos on the nightstand and returned my attention to my inbox. I needed to focus, but thoughts of Georgie crept back in anyway. Goddammit. I still couldn’t believe what’d happened earlier this morning. She’d been a whirlwind of emotion, glaring daggers at me as she accused me of all sorts of shit.

  It fucking pissed me off at first that she hadn’t confronted me with all the things she thought she knew about me. I hated it when people jumped to conclusions without even having the courtesy to ask a few simple questions. But then I heard the whole story, and I realized how bad it looked for me.

  Georgie had overheard some very choice snippets of my phone conversation to Ginny Bennett, and although that call was wholly innocent, it sounded anything but innocent to her ears. Couple that with the fact that rumors were spreading about me and an actual grown woman named Ginny, and things started to solidify in her eyes. Not to mention little Ginny’s email address, which Georgie had seen—it could’ve easily been an address Ginny Morell would use.

  Still, it would’ve been nice if she said something as soon as she started to suspect anything, instead of freezing me out. Who knows what might’ve happened between us by now if she hadn’t?

  To her credit, she apologized, and I got it. After hearing what happened to her during that dark period of her life when she split
with Matthew, it was understandable that she would be on edge and assume the worst in people. Especially men.

  Christ, it actually explained so much, now that I was really thinking about it. Before now, I thought she’d been cold toward me because the wedding was bringing back memories, but deep down, a tiny part of me had suspected otherwise, because she hadn’t always been like that. She was so nice and normal when we first met, albeit a little awkward, and it was only after she stayed at my house that she tensed up. That was when she heard the phone call. I recalled she’d been weird that morning, asking me repeatedly if I had a girlfriend and giving me strange looks when I kept saying no.

  It all made sense now.

  I glanced over at the photos again, my eyes skating over Georgie’s slinky red dress. With a light groan, I remembered how fucking difficult it’d been last night to keep my hands to myself. She was all over me, begging me to kiss her, begging me to touch her, begging me to fuck her.

  I wasn’t sure why she got like that when she was stoned. The way I saw it, there were two possibilities. The first one was that she was just so out of it that she had no idea what she was doing at all. The second was that some deep part of her wanted me and had for a long time, only to be pushed aside all these weeks by the part of her which thought I was a home-wrecking douchebag.

  If I had to bet on it, I’d put my money on the latter.

  I mean, she was messed up last night, but there’d been other occasions where we shared heated moments. We got along famously on our fake dates—too well for something that was supposed to be pretend. Also, she clearly wanted me to kiss her that day in the hall when her mother was harassing us. Otherwise she would’ve pushed me away immediately instead of kissing me back with all that tongue. And the kiss itself… Jesus. Chemistry to the fucking max.

  I was glad I’d backed off last night, though. I couldn’t touch her while she was like that. No way. Only a total piece of shit would fuck with a woman in that drug-addled state.

  When I finally got her—and I was going to get her—it would be on my terms. Those terms were simple. I wanted her to be stone-cold sober, and I wanted to know she truly trusted me. Lastly, I wanted her to come to me and admit she felt the spark between us. Only then would I feel right about claiming every inch of her, considering what she’d been through in the past with other men.

  Until then, I was going to have to wait.

  Waiting for a woman wasn’t something I was familiar with, but Georgie was different. Special. The wait would be worth it.

  I shifted my weight on the bed again, feeling a familiar hardness growing in my pants as I pictured myself finally easing into her. With another groan, I closed my inbox. I simply couldn’t focus on work. Not until I’d gotten this out of my system.

  With a few keystrokes, I found Georgie’s Facebook profile again, and I clicked into her photo albums, trying to find one that wasn’t set to private.

  “Bingo,” I muttered to myself a moment later. There was one old Spring Break album set to public view. It wasn’t actually Georgie’s, but she’d been tagged in a lot of pictures, so it showed up on her profile. Only seconds later my eyes were feasting on the perfect photo: Georgie in a bikini, sipping a margarita on a beach somewhere. Her pouty pink lips were wrapped around the cocktail straw, and it only took a bit of imagination to picture them wrapped around my cock instead.

  Half a second later and I was hard as a fucking rock. My eyes skimmed over her sparking green eyes, her nipples jutting up against the thin white bikini, and the tanned curves of her hips and waist. Then I closed my eyes as a memory returned to me—her ass when she stripped off last night. I wanted to bury my tongue between those flawless round cheeks.

  I wondered if she liked that. Wondered if she’d let me do it. I thought about doing everything else too, somehow knowing her breath would catch in her throat when I eased a finger past her tight entrance. I could almost hear what her moans would sound like as they tumbled from her lips, too.

  My cock stiffened to the point of aching. I unzipped and pulled it out, hooking my boxer briefs below my balls. After taking another glance at Georgie’s bikini pic, I stroked my hand over myself, groaning as heated pleasure burst through my groin. I tightened my grip on my shaft and pumped a little harder, trying to imagine it was Georgie’s mouth on my dick. She bobbed up and down, licking and sucking, faster and faster. Then she slid her panties off and—

  “Nate? Are you in there?”

  I froze at the sound of Georgie’s voice in real life, right outside my door. It was followed by a knock. Shit. I thought she was with her sister having lunch and recovering from her pot cookie hangover. What the hell was she doing here instead? I couldn’t let her in, not when I was right in the middle of jerking off like some hormonal teenager.

  I steeled myself, keeping silent as I waited for her to walk away. Whatever it was, she could come back later. Even ten minutes from now would be fine.

  There was another knock. “Nate, can I come in? Please?” she said. “I just got a frantic email come through on my phone. The guy who’s filling in for me at work really screwed something up. I can fix it, but I need a computer. My laptop is suddenly not working, so I really need to borrow yours.”

  Ah, fuck…

  “Hello? Nate?”

  I decided on a new course of action. After she gave up and left, I’d splash cold water on myself and give it a couple of minutes for my dick to go down. Then I’d take my laptop down to her and claim that I’d heard her but been otherwise occupied in the bathroom when she knocked. That would work. She’d get a computer within ten minutes, and I wouldn’t be caught with a massive hard-on.

  She rapped on the door again. There was another pause, and then she called out. “Okay, I guess you’re either not here or having a nap. If you are here, please accept my apology.”

  I tilted my head with confusion as she spoke. Apology for what?

  She went on. “I promise I wouldn’t usually do this, but it’s an emergency, and Libby hasn’t got a computer I can use. So I’m coming in. Sorry!”

  I heard a telltale clicking from the other side of the door, and I sat up straight as a bolt of shock reverberated through my system. Shit, she had a keycard for my suite! I’d completely forgotten about it till now, but on the first day we arrived, her mother gave us copies of each other’s keycards in case we wanted to let ourselves into each other’s rooms, seeing as we were a ‘couple’.

  Fuck.

  My pants were down, my cock was out, and my laptop was still half-balanced on my legs with a bikini shot of Georgie on prominent display. It didn’t exactly look great, and I only had about five seconds till she walked in and saw it all.

  I pulled the sheets up over my raging erection whilst simultaneously trying to click out of her profile, but the X button on the edge of the tab was either frozen or incredibly slow, and it refused to close. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn’t just shut the laptop lid, either, because she was coming in to use it, and as soon as she opened it again, she’d be greeted with her own bikini photo.

  What was worse? Getting caught jerking off in general, or getting caught jerking off to Georgie’s old Facebook photos by Georgie herself?

  I’d say the latter.

  My mind racing, I did the only thing I could think of in those few seconds. My right hand flew over my laptop keyboard, opening a new tab and typing in the word ‘porn’. At least that was working. Thank fuck. I swiftly clicked on the very first thing that came up. Then I leaned back and affected a casual air, just as Georgie opened the door and briskly stepped into the room.

  Phew. Just in time.

  “Oh, you’re actually here. Sorry for barging in, I just need to—oh!” Georgie’s left hand flew to her mouth as she took in the view: me with my groin half-hidden under a sheet as faint, sensual moans emanated from my laptop. She quickly looked down. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I thought you were just napping or something. I didn’t think…. Um, I guess I should have knocked again.” />
  Her embarrassment was so fucking adorable that I didn’t even register any of my own. I flashed her my most casual grin and stretched out, pushing the laptop off my legs. “It’s fine. You said you needed to borrow this?” I gestured to the computer. Part of the screen was now facing her.

  She nodded, her cheeks flaming red. “Yes. But I see you’re busy with your, uhh… clowns....”

  I pulled the laptop back around and glanced down at my screen for the first time since I clicked on the top porn video. Oh, for the love of Christ…

  The tab I opened a few seconds ago had gone straight to the first video on the search results. It wasn’t something I had any interest in. It was just whatever the search algorithm came up with, and it was some sort of fetish-based porno with multiple clowns gang-banging a skinny blonde girl.

  Shit.

  Now I was the biggest clown of all.

  Georgie stifled a giggle, cleared her throat, and turned around. “I guess I’ll come back later.”

  I’d never gone soft so fast in my life.

  21

  Georgie

  This was the definition of pure awkwardness.

  Upon barging into Nate’s suite, I’d promptly caught him beating off. Oops. I guess having each other’s spare keys was bound to backfire sooner or later.

  My face burned with embarrassment, but at the same time, it was funny in a juvenile way. I coughed away a laugh, then turned and mumbled something about coming back later.

  “No, you said it was an emergency. I just have to fix something first, if I can,” Nate said. He quickly clicked on some things on his laptop, muttering the word ‘finally’ as he closed out his browser. Then he zipped his pants up and got off the bed. “You can take it now.”

  I nodded slowly. Awkward as it was, I desperately needed the computer. My phone had been blowing up with emails for the last ten minutes, cutting my lunch and chat with Libby severely short, and my own laptop wasn’t working at all. Good old Murphy’s Law. “Thanks,” I croaked out.