Page 39 of Bridesmaid for Hire
“Tell that to your face that nearly gobbled up my cock this morning.”
He moves past me and opens the door.
“I did not gobble it up. God.”
“Felt like it.” He hops into the golf cart, on the driver’s side. I shut the bungalow door and stand next to him.
“Do you really think you’re driving?”
He drapes his wrist over the steering wheel, looking far too good in his white short-sleeved button-up shirt—with the top three buttons undone—and his light blue swim trunks. He barely styled his hair, whichis frustrating, because it looks amazing. He didn’t bother to shave, giving him that dark and sinister look that comes from the perfect five o’clock shadow. He topped the outfit off with a pair black and gold thin-framed Ray Bans. Men are so frustrating. They can do the bare minimum and look good.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” He tips his sunglasses down, so I have to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be driving us around, you’ll be holding my hand without swatting it away, and we’ll remember the goddamn rules that you insisted on putting together. Which means, no embarrassing stories.”
“I know.” I stomp around the front of the golf cart and take a seat in the passenger side. “Women can drive, you know.”
“Well aware of the progress the female population has made throughout the years. In fact, I’d say women are better than men at this point, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a chivalrous dick that takes care of his girl.” He drapes his arm over the back of my seat and continues, “So get comfortable, because when we’re in public, I’m going to be white knighting you all over the place.”
“I don’t think that’s a term.”
“It is now,” he says as he presses on the pedal and shoots us off down the plank bridge and toward the resort.
The morning is beautiful with the light breeze from the ocean and the clear blue skies. Water stretches forever, the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen, making it seem like we’re truly in heaven, rather than a tourist-heavy island.
And it’s all free.
Every part of this trip.
Sure, I have to suffer through sharing a bed with Brody, pretending to be his girlfriend, while also working, but still, a free stay just makes this so much better.
“Why did you bring a bunch of slutty swimsuits?” he asks as we continue down the bridge.
“I prefer the term ‘revealing.’”
“Fine, why did you bring a bunch ofrevealingswimsuits?”
“Can’t a lady have fun without having to explain herself?” I ask.
“Is that what you’re doing?” he asks. “Trying to have some fun? Trying to find someone to have fun with?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“You realize you should have picked a better place to vacation if you were looking to get some.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“Because—do you really think people come here on their own, pay all that money for the bungalow, just to find someone to fuck? This is totally a couple’s resort.”
“That’s not true.”
“Really?” he asks, glancing at me. “Hopper Industries is known to market this specific resort to couples as a honeymoon destination. Haven’t you noticed there really isn’t anyone here that isn’t in a couple?”
Huh…that would explain yesterday by the pool.
“If you were looking to bang on vacation, you picked the wrong spot.”
“Well…maybe I wasn’t looking to get some.”
“Liar.” I can hear the smile in his voice without even having to look at him. “After your comment earlier about being as dry as a desert and your wardrobe choices—”
