Man Candy (2 page)

“Cover model...” Ed said with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“Come on, Ed. I’m a good looking guy. Why couldn’t I be a cover model? Tanner’s one now and we look alike,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but Tanner loves the limelight. He craves the attention. It’s what feeds his narcissistic personality. You’re quietly confident. There’s a big difference.”

“I guess.” I shuffled in my seat, uncomfortable with his assessment, especially since it reminded me how out of my element I was going to be this weekend. Cool, confident, and bold weren’t in my normal repertoire when being thrust in front of a large group of people. That was Tanner’s territory.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked a while later as we parked the old navy and white truck alongside the other military issued vehicles.

I shrugged and played off the bit of anxiety that was settling in my gut the more I thought about it. “How bad could it possibly be?”

“Famous last words,” he muttered while stepping out of the truck and slamming the door.

Boy was he right.

The music pumped loudly through the speakers in the nightclub where the welcome party was being held. The dark backdrop and neon lights highlighted the hedonistic atmosphere and gyrating bodies on the dance floor.

Sleek glass bars were stationed at the four corners of the multi-level club, each one surrounded by a crowd of people. The dance floor was a few steps down from the level that the bars and booths were on. Off to the right there was a stage tucked between two of the bars.

As I wound through the crowd in search of Meredith, a scantily clad woman knocked into me, spilling some of her drink on the front of my shirt. I reached out and steadied her before brushing the liquid off my chest. I silently fumed that it was barely nine o’clock and already my night wasn’t looking very promising.

I eventually found Meredith at a curved booth along the back wall. She was surrounded by women of various ages. Many of them were lookers and I took a small moment to enjoy the view. I am a man after all.

“Ben!” Meredith exclaimed when she caught sight of me. She jumped up on the seat and leaned over the table to give me a hug. It was a bit unconventional, but then again, Meredith was known to be just that—in and out of the bedroom from the stories I had heard.

She pulled back and her eyes traveled slowly down my body. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with her perusal, my eyes darted around but what they saw only increased my anxiety. All six women sitting at Meredith’s tables were either openly eye-fucking me or whispering to each other behind their hands about what I could only assume was me. One woman was even... wait did she just do that? Yep, she did. She licked her chops like I was a juicy steak set out before her.

What the fuck did I get myself into? I felt like a sheep in a wolf’s den. I briefly wondered if this was what strippers felt like each night. That unbidden thought was sure to ruin any future trips to the strip club I might find myself taking.

“You look good, Ben. Real good.” Meredith clapped her hands together and did a couple little jumps on the seat. “This is so great. You might be even cuter than your brother now.”

“Don’t tell him that,” I warned her.

“My lips are sealed. Ladies scooch down and make room for my man Ben here,” she commanded her friends. They made quick work filing out of the booth and allowing me to slide in beside Meredith.

Meredith flagged a waiter down and ordered me a shot of Jägermeister and another round of the pink liquid they all seemed to be sipping on.

“So, Ben Harris. Tell me what you’ve been up to lately. Still working patrol?”

“Yeah. Same old, same old.”

“Any special girl in your life?” She rested her chin in her hand and batted her eyelashes.

“No and it’s not going to happen, Mer. Tanner marked you off limits.” I laughed at the way her mouth hung open at that news.

“He did what?” she sputtered.

“You heard me.”

“Huh.” I understood her confusion. Her perplexed look most likely mirrored the same one I had after Tanner’s declaration.

“I was surprised when Tanner said you were an author now. How’d that happen?” I decided to change the subject and give her a chance to recover. Meredith used to be a labor and delivery nurse, which seemed like a far cry from writing romance novels.

“It was always a secret passion of mine. One day I just decided to go for it. The rest is history.” Judging by the confident expression on her face, she had found her calling.

The waiter brought over our drinks and I waved off Meredith’s attempt to put them all on her tab. Pulling out a bunch of twenty dollar bills, I handed them to the man leering at Meredith’s breasts.

“Yo,” I barked at him. His eyes moved slowly as if coming from a daze, wanting to savor the view he had, and locked with mine. “Look at her tits again and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, quickly assessing I was dead serious about my threat. It was a good thing too because he was a little bitch that I could easily break in two.

“Bring me two more shots and a Sam Adams.” After giving him my order I glared at him until he took the hint and hurried off.

“That was so hot,” a blonde sitting to my right breathed in awe.

I turned my head and smiled at her. What else could I do?

Before the altercation with the waiter, she sat quietly at my side with her body pressed as close to mine as she could without being too obvious. Now that she had my attention, she decided to go for the gusto. “My name’s Dawn,” she told me with a giggle.

Why did women always giggle like that when talking to someone they found attractive? I didn’t know many men who found it a turn on.

“Hi, Dawn,” I greeted her back politely before turning my attention to Meredith. I didn’t want to be rude, but I didn’t want to give Dawn false hope either. I wasn’t in the market for hooking up with someone who was falling all over me and giggling like a school girl with a crush when speaking with me. That might make me an asshole, but I knew what I wanted and that wasn’t it.

“I’m an author too,” she kept going forcing my attention back to her.

“Oh yeah?” I raised my eyebrow hoping it conveyed interest.

“Yeah. I hit The New York Times Bestseller list last week.” She nodded her head like a Bobblehead doll.

“That’s great. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Do you... um... maybe want to want to dance?” Her cheeks turned pink and she bit her lip as I considered her proposal. I wasn’t much of a dancer. At least not in front of people. However, behind closed doors I was known to do a little risky business style dancing.

“I think I’m just going to sit back and watch for a while. You know? Drink my beer?” I held up the bottle that the waiter had placed in front of me sometime within the last five minutes.

“Oh sure. Right. Of course,” she stammered the words and her face turned a darker shade of pink.

“Maybe later?” I asked to make her feel better even though I would rather have my eye poked out than dance. Sometimes it really sucked to be a nice guy.

“Okay.” She beamed a bright smile my way that transformed her face. She was cute enough before, but that smile made her a knockout. It was by far her best asset.

Picking up my shots, I downed them both in a row wondering yet again what the hell I was getting myself into. The longer I sat there, the more women circled the table giving me bedroom eyes and come hither stares. It was like being in a shark tank while hungry sharks circled, planning their attack.

“Hey, Ben,” another woman called out to me. I glanced over my shoulder to find a different blonde perched on the edge of her seat, practically leaning over Meredith to get my attention. I pivoted in my seat and said hi to her.

“I was going to do a shot. What do you suggest?” she asked in a sensuous tone.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged wondering why my opinion would matter.

“Maybe a blowjob?” Her finger ran underneath the thin strap of her top, drawing my attention to her more than generous assets. I was a man who enjoyed tits and ass, so there was no stopping my physical reaction to a nice available pair. I felt my body tightening at the image of what she would look like without her top doing exactly what her shot of choice described.

Maybe I needed to lay off the alcohol. Dirty fantasies, willing women and booze were never a good mixture.

“You are such a skank, Fiona! Leave him alone. Your husband would leave your ass for good this time if he found out the shit you’re pulling.” Meredith slapped her friend both verbally and physically.

Thank God she let that piece of information out. No way in hell would I touch a married woman. Not that I was planning on touching Fiona, but it was always good to have the lay of the land.

Sipping my beer, I turned my attention to the room at large before leaning over and whispering in Meredith’s ear. “How long do I need to stay tonight?”

There was a Phillies game on, and I didn’t want to miss it. Seeing as how we were in the furthest thing from a sports bar, I knew I needed to get back to my room if I was going to catch it.

“Oh. Um. Well. See there’s this show in...” She looked at her watch and then back up at me. “An hour, and you’re kind of signed up for it.”

“A show?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell does that mean, Mer? A show that
I’m
signed up for?” I even pointed to myself for good measure. Surely she had to be kidding.

“Yes. That’s what I said.” With her gaze pointed somewhere over my shoulder, she nodded her head and swallowed hard. All nervous gestures.

“How the hell am I signed up for a show? This is the first anyone’s said about it.”

“Tanner should have told you.”

“Told me what exactly?” This was the dreaded moment where you find out that you’ve been had. Taken for a ride. Yet again I had agreed to more than he let on. I was so going to kick his ass when I got home.

“The cover models attending the signing are doing a routine for everyone tonight and...” she trailed off before picking up her drink and downing it in one long gulp. A stall tactic if ever I’ve seen one.

“And...” I prompted her when it looked like she was going to try to stall all night.

“And we’re all voting on the hottest one! Whoever wins is the VIP at tomorrow night’s party.” Fiona chimed in from Meredith’s side.

I pinched the bridge of my nose attempting to keep my cool. How the fuck could this be happening to me? It was official. I was never, ever, ever doing a favor for my brother ever again. Did I say ever? Because dammit, I meant ever.

Logically, I knew I needed to remain calm and not freak out about being on stage in front of all these people—and holy shit were there a lot of people in this club. Meredith was just trying to promote herself and her books. The reasonable side of my brain knew that. It was the rest of my brain that was screaming for me to get up and run before I made a fool of myself. Because that was what was bound to happen.

For a brief moment, I was tempted to look around and see if Tanner was hiding somewhere just to pull one over on me. Jump out from behind a curtain and scream, “You’ve been punked, bitch!”

I grabbed a waiter walking by and ordered two more shots. My earlier hesitations about drinking were now gone. I was going to need all the alcohol I could get.

“You aren’t mad are you?” Meredith asked from my side.

I shook my head and gave her a sidelong glance. “I just wish you would have told me on the phone the other night.”

“I honestly didn’t think about it. Look, the authors who have models here all have a bet going as to which one of you guys is going to win. The pot’s up to two grand. So if you could... you know... shake what your momma gave you or something that would be great.”

Even annoyed, I had to laugh at her request.

“I’m serious!” she exclaimed and slapped my shoulder. “All the women have been drooling and taking covert pictures of you since you got here. You’re a shoe in. You’re far hotter than Drake Dunn. He won last year and thinks his shit doesn’t stink. I know for a fact it does and I’d love nothing more than to knock him off his pedestal.”

“I’ll do my best, but I’m not promising anything.” Nerves started working overtime at the prospect of what was fifty short minutes away from happening. The room began to feel small and confined. And where the hell was the waiter with my shots?

“Thank you so much!” she squealed and threw her arms around me for a hug.

“Don’t thank me just yet. You can thank me if I win.”

*****

“Oh hell no.” I attempted to push my way through the throng of women standing in front of the door that was my only escape from the evil things they had planned. Instead of breaking free, I was pushed back into the room where three other male models were getting ready for the show.

“Yes. You said you’d do it,” Meredith reminded me as she stood in my way with her hip cocked and her arms crossed.

“You didn’t tell me about
this
,” I argued. And she hadn’t. She
so
hadn’t. I would have never agreed to lip-sync to KISS if she had.

“If the pussy doesn’t want to do it, Red, then don’t make him do it,” the slimy model Drake told Meredith.

“I’m not a fucking pussy,” I spit out getting in his face. This juiced up monkey had been making comments ever since we came backstage. With his slicked back black hair, cold, dark eyes and massive bulk, he looked like a creep of the biggest variety. His attitude just cemented that observation.

Meredith wasn’t kidding when she said Drake thought he was the greatest of the great. Apparently that translated to having a hard time stepping aside and letting someone else be center stage. For as much as I didn’t want to be his replacement, I wasn’t going to let him knock me around either.

“You sure are acting like one.” Rather than backing down, he took a step closer so we were toe to toe.

“All this testosterone is making me horny,” a woman who I learned was named Amy spoke from behind me.

“It’s making me nauseous,” Meredith countered. “Listen guys, Ben is playing Paul. That’s just the way it is. We’ve already agreed on it. Now go jerk off in the corner until it’s time to go on, Drake.”