Mr. Man Candy: A Fake Boyfriend Romance

by Alessandra Hart

  Ha. Totally called it.

  She shifted on the lounge, rolling onto her stomach and crossing one long leg over the other behind her. I nearly had to stuff my fist in my mouth to stop myself from groaning at the sight of her ass in the tight swimsuit. I wanted to tear that thing off with my teeth and mount her right there on that sun lounge.

  I headed down the stairs which led to the dive deck. In the distance, the ocean rolled and foamed on the glowing sands of one of Saint Clare’s most famous beaches. Closer to me, a couple of Libby’s bridesmaids looked over, obviously thinking their sunglasses hid the fact they were openly ogling my chest and arms. Georgie didn’t notice my arrival at all. She was far too engrossed in her book.

  “Got the sunscreen,” I said, waving the bottle at her as I planted myself on an empty sun lounge next to her.

  She jolted up in surprise, then smiled. “Oh, right. Thanks.”

  Before she could object, I squirted some into my hand and started rubbing it on her left calf. Her eyes widened. “I can put it on myself, it’s fine.”

  I didn’t miss the fact that the soft skin of her leg was now peppered with goosebumps, all the way up to her thigh, even though the sun was beating down on the dive deck.

  “No, you can just relax and stay right there. That book seems really interesting,” I said, feigning ignorance.

  She looked like she was going to protest again, but one of Libby’s bridesmaids glanced over at us and cut in with a giggle. “Hey, if you don’t want him rubbing sunblock on you, you can always donate him to me. I wouldn’t mind.” She gave me a lascivious wink.

  Georgie’s face turned redder than ever, and she rolled over and sat up straight. “Could you do my back?” she asked, pointedly ignoring the other woman. “I can never reach there.”

  Ha. She was jealous. It wasn’t the creepy, bunny-boiling sort of jealousy which would send any man running for the hills. It was a cute, healthy amount of jealousy—enough to make her sit up and stake her claim when someone else tried to threaten it, without being a total psycho.

  I didn’t mind one bit.

  “Sure thing, doll,” I said. As Georgie leaned forward, I got behind her on the lounge and rubbed the cream into her smooth skin, slowly and sensually. I made sure to get all the way up to the sides of her neck, my fingers moving in deft little strokes. Trails of goosebumps followed wherever I touched, and I could feel Georgie’s breaths coming quicker as my slick hands slowly moved back down to her hips.

  If a moment like this wasn’t enough to make her realize there was something real between us, I had no idea what would. It was sunscreen, for Christ’s sake, one of the least sexy things in the world. But with us, it became something else. Something electric.

  I leaned down and murmured in her ear. “All done. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

  Her breath hitched, and I heard her swallow hard. “Okay. Thanks.”

  I grinned and strutted over to the edge of the dive deck, facing away from the ocean. Now that Georgie was sitting up again, I was directly in her line of vision. Every inch of me. I still had the sunscreen in my hand, so I started rubbing it on my chest, then did a dumb impression of a bodybuilder posing and oiling himself up.

  Georgie watched me with a smile playing on her plump red lips. She shook her head slowly. Clearly, she knew exactly what game I was playing.

  As I rubbed the cream into my right arm, I squinted at the top of the main deck, which was directly above us. I could see a small set of black and gold lettering with what seemed to be the yacht’s name. I hadn’t noticed it when we boarded earlier.

  “Georgie,” I called out to her. She looked up at me again. “Is this boat called the Nauti Buoy?”

  She nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “Yes. Didn’t you see it earlier?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Fitting name, though.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because there’s a very Nauti Buoy aboard,” I said. I turned around to face the edge and waggled my ass in her direction, flexing one of my arms as I did so.

  I heard a few of the bridesmaids giggle at my ridiculous show. Georgie didn’t say a word. She simply got up and came over to me. “You know what naughty boys get?” she asked.

  I turned my head over my shoulder. “What?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Spankings.”

  I grinned. “Are you saying I need a spanking, Miss Miller?”

  “Sure seems like it,” she replied.

  Before I could say a word, she slapped me on the ass. Hard. I wasn’t expecting it to be so forceful, and before I knew it, I was flying forward.

  Right into the ocean.

  23

  Georgie

  “Oh, shit!”

  My hand flew to my mouth as I watched Nate fly into the water below the dive deck. I hadn’t realized just how close he was to the edge, and I didn’t mean to slap his ass that hard. It was meant to be a playful tap, but he’d sailed right into the ocean with an almighty splash.

  “Did you just push him in?” one of Libby’s friends asked as I peered into the water, searching for Nate. He hadn’t come up for air yet.

  “Uh… yes. Accidentally,” I replied, not turning to look at her. I was too busy frantically scanning the water for Nate. Most parts of the ocean around the reef were a clear, pale aquamarine, but the part we’d stopped at was a deeper blue. I couldn’t see more than a few inches below the surface.

  “Can he swim?”

  This time I turned to Libby’s friend, my eyes slowly widening. “I don’t know. Shit!”

  Oh my god. What if he couldn’t? What if I was responsible for drowning him? A full two minutes had passed now, and he hadn’t surfaced.

  There was only one thing to do. I had to go in after him. I had to help him.

  Just as I was about to dive into the cool water, Nate burst through the surface like something from an 80’s beach movie, complete with the slow-motion hair flopping as he shook salty water from his face.

  “Gotcha,” he said, flashing me a grin as he caught sight of my horrified face.

  “Nate! Where were you?” I screeched, sinking to my hands and knees on the deck’s edge.

  “There’s a little alcove right here underneath the deck,” he said, effortlessly moving through the water toward me. “You pushed me in, so I thought I’d freak you out.”

  “That’s not funny! And I didn’t push you!” I said. He raised wet brows and cocked his head to the side in a questioning glance. “Okay, I did, but I didn’t mean to.”

  He was holding on to the edge of the dive deck now, tanned skin glistening under the water sliding off it. I was struck by the urge to lick it all off.

  “I’ll forgive you,” Nate started slowly, reaching for my left arm. Judging by how the temperature of his wet hand, the water was a lot colder than it looked. “If you come in with me.”

  “No! I don’t want to get wet right now!” I shrieked, although I already was, just from looking at him. He’d been parading around this yacht since we boarded, teasing me with his panty-melting body, and it was obvious that he already damn well knew the effect he had on me.

  His lips curled into a devious smile. “It’s only fair,” he said, pulling me farther down toward the water. I wrestled against him like a petulant child, trying to stay aboard, and our heads inadvertently came within a few inches of each other. Nate paused as my eyes focused right on his lips. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but instead he released my arm and glanced at the ladder heading back up to the deck.

  “Fine. I give in. But I’ll get you back one day,” he said with a grin.

  He hauled himself out of the water. Salty droplets slid down the contours of his chest and abs, and his sculpted arms drew every female eye on the deck as he ran a hand through his soaking hair. Every single line of his muscular physique was perfection, and every single woman here knew it.

  I grabbed him a towel. “Here,” I said, my
words coming out in a choking sound as I tried to stop staring.

  Goddamn, he was hot.

  So hot.

  After taking the towel, Nate pulled me against his still-soaked chest and murmured in my ear. “You better watch out. You’re not the only one around here who can dole out spankings.”

  Once again, I was speechless around him. I darted back over to my sun lounge and held my book up in front of my face to cover what I knew were flaming-red cheeks. After a few seconds, I peeked over the top of the pages to look at Nate again. He was drying himself with the towel and still attracting attention from every female within a ten foot radius.

  “Need some help drying off, Nate?” trilled Libby’s annoying maid of honor Bianca, the same woman who’d spent half the trip eyeing him up. She was utterly shameless.

  “I’m fine,” he said with a polite smile, before turning his gaze to me and arching an eyebrow as if to say ‘See? I’m ignoring her. You’re the only one I want’.

  I lowered my eyes back to the book, my heart pounding. No one else had ever made my pulse race like he did, and he damn well knew it.

  It was so obvious what he’d been doing all day. He was trying to speed me along; force me to admit that I returned his feelings by making me realize how flustered I became when I saw him shirtless or had his hands gliding all over my body. Amateur move, but not entirely ineffective. In fact, judging by the heat that’d been pooling between my thighs all afternoon, it was a winning strategy.

  I bet he knew that, too.

  I wished I could be like him, so filled with confidence in everything I did. Charisma and fortitude came naturally to him, and he seemed to handle things so easily. So casually. I couldn’t even imagine pulling off the things he’d managed to achieve in life. Or the things he’d been through, for that matter. If I had ten million dollars hacked out of my bank account, I’d probably be in a psych ward rocking back and forth whilst clad in a strait jacket. But Nate didn’t lose the plot. He’d continued striving to keep his company going, and he’d probably make his money back within a decade.

  Suddenly the five grand I’d offered him to join me on this vacation seemed paltry. Still, he was here, wasn’t he? Here and wanting me, apparently….

  My legs quivered at the thought. A million questions rushed through my mind at the same time. What exactly did he see in me? What did I have that all these other women didn’t? When he said he wanted me the other day, did it mean he wanted everything from me, or was this more of a sex-only fling situation?

  Ask him, crazy woman, the voice of logic in my head told me. Duh.

  We were supposed to have dinner with everyone tonight after our return from the yacht trip, so I decided to get him alone after dessert and ask him all my questions. Maybe then, depending on his answers, I’d be able to let go. Open up. Let something happen between us.

  Maybe.

  The rest of the yacht outing was uneventful—sun, champagne, and relaxation. The perfect afternoon. I even went for a quick dip in the ocean with Libby despite my earlier bid to stay dry.

  At six, the yacht docked back at the marina outside the resort, and we headed back to our respective rooms to get changed for dinner. We were all meeting at the resort’s main restaurant for a big group dinner in one hour, so that was plenty of time for a shower, blow-dry, and outfit selection.

  After cleaning myself up and figuring out which dress I wanted to wear to dinner, I went through my suitcase, trying to find my nicest underwear set. An impish smile played on my lips as I searched. In the shower a moment ago, I’d been struck by inspiration. I figured Nate needed a taste of his own medicine, so he could know how frustrating it was for me to see him strutting around wet and half-naked all day today. So in a few minutes I was going to give him a show of my own just to tease him.

  Was it juvenile? Yes. Satisfying enough to make me not care about how silly it was? Also yes. Nate had a good sense of humor, anyway. He’d appreciate my little prank.

  I selected a sexy lacy black and white bra with matching panties and put them on before proudly inspecting myself in the mirror. Just because I didn’t usually get much action didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to wear nice lingerie. It was one of the few things I liked to splurge on.

  When I was ready, I wrapped my white hotel robe around myself, not bothering to tie it at the waist. At exactly ten to seven, there was a sharp rap on my door. Nate was here to pick me up for dinner.

  With a sly grin, I headed for the door, ‘accidentally’ letting my robe fall open to reveal the skimpy underwear.

  “Hello there,” I said in my most playful tone as I opened the door. “You’re a little early.”

  “Well, hello to you too, Georgie…”

  With horror, I pulled the robe tightly around myself. It wasn’t Nate standing at my door at all.

  It was Tripp.

  24

  Nate

  I leaned forward, hands braided on the dinner table. “Georgie, are you okay?”

  She looked up at me with wide eyes. Her face was drawn and pale, and she’d been aimlessly moving her food around her plate for the last half hour, barely eating a thing. On top of that, she’d barely spoken all evening. “Not exactly,” she mumbled.

  I furrowed my brows. I knew something was up when I went to get her for dinner earlier, but she hadn’t said anything at the time. I’d run into Margaret on the way down to her room, so she was with me when I knocked on Georgie’s door. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t told me what was wrong—she didn’t want her mother to hear.

  Or perhaps she was finally freaking out about what I told her yesterday.

  Fuck, I hoped it wasn’t that. All day, I’d been sure I was this close to a breakthrough with her. The way she blushed whenever I was close, the way she could barely keep her eyes off me… I was sure. Right up until this dinner.

  “Do we need to talk?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, but not here. No one else can hear this,” she whispered, confirming my suspicions about Margaret’s earlier presence.

  I nodded toward the restaurant bar. “Let’s go over there,” I suggested in a low murmur. “We’ll say we want to check out the cocktail menu.”

  She nodded again, and after making our excuses to the dinner party, we headed for the bar and feigned great interest in the cocktail lists.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked.

  Georgie sighed and pretended to inspect her menu. “It’s a long story.”

  I raised my brows. “Then you better start at the beginning.”

  She let out another sigh. “You know Tripp Huntington-Davis?”

  “Dickhead Bingo guy?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, him.”

  I shrugged. “I know him vaguely. He tried to invest with my brokerage a while ago, just after he moved out west.”

  “Right. Well, he’s on to us,” she muttered. “I never told you this, but at the photo shoot, he overheard part of our conversation.”

  My eyebrows knitted in a frown. “You mean when you asked me to come here with you?”

  She nodded glumly. “He asked me out to dinner earlier that day, which I turned down, and after he overheard us talking, he approached me and offered to be my wedding date instead of you. For free. He said his family actually owns a resort on this island. But I said no.”

  “Understandably.”

  In my past business dealings with Tripp, I’d learned two things about him. One, he was a real piece of shit. Racist, sexist, arrogant, you name it—he personified douchebaggery. Secondly, although his family owned half the Eastern seaboard, he had about as much business savvy as a houseplant. I was pretty sure the only thing he inherited from his parents was their money, not their brains. I wasn’t surprised Georgie turned his offer down.

  “Turns out the resort they own is this one. He’s here right now for work,” Georgie continued. “I ran into him in the hall yesterday, and he asked me out to dinner again.”

  “He’s persistent; I’ll give hi
m that.”

  “Yup. I said no again, and he made some dick-ish comment about how he always gets what he wants. Then he showed up at my door just before dinner tonight.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Did he do something to you? If he hurt you in any way, I swear to god I’ll—”

  She held her hands up. “No, nothing like that. He didn’t touch me.”

  “Good.” I gritted my teeth. “So what happened?”

  “He told me if I don’t go out with him, he’ll tell everyone what we’re doing. He can easily find out which room Libby and Bobby are in. Mom, too. So he can just go right up there and tell them whenever he wants,” she said.

  “He’s trying to fucking blackmail you into a date?” I said incredulously. “Jesus.”

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders slumped. “He said if I don’t go to his room at eight o’clock tomorrow night, he’s telling everyone what I’m up to. So I have twenty-four hours to decide. Oh, and sex was heavily implied as part of the date, so that’s just freaking wonderful….”

  My hands curled into fists by my side. “I’m going to find him and knock his fucking teeth out. He can’t threaten you with bullshit like that.”

  Georgie’s eyes widened into a pleading expression. “Nate, no!”

  In my peripheral vision, I could see Margaret peering over at us from the dinner table on the other side of the restaurant. Shit. She could probably tell from our expressions and body language that something bad was going on, and knowing her, we’d be questioned about it for an eternity if we didn’t start acting normal again. I uncurled my fists, pretended I’d simply been stretching my hands, then forced a cheery smile.

  “Your mom is looking,” I said as Georgie noticed my inexplicable smile.