“What kind of out-of-the-box experience are we talking about here?” Mallory asked. “I love sex, but I’m not into freaky.”
“Think Tinder meets Tahiti,” Antonio answered slyly. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his face animated. “The setup is a beautiful, private island, and everyone there is fuckable and single. Forty-five men and forty-five women. You all get your own villa and a private phone with our app downloaded when you arrive. It mimics Tinder up to a point, but it’s much sexier. We have real-time video embedded in the app for live sexting.”
“That sounds…interesting,” Mallory said, nodding once. “I accept.”
“Just like that?” Antonio laughed, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t want any more info or need to check dates?”
“Nope, surprise me. If I have something booked that week, I’ll reschedule.” She crossed her legs demurely, flattening out the folds of her dress. “It sounds too good to be true, and with you as my fairy godfather, I can’t lose.”
Emma was intrigued. “That sounds like a really interesting concept,” she said. “How much does a stay on the island cost?”
“Fifty thousand a week,” Antonio answered. “But it’s insanely upscale. There are spas, multiple pools and hot tubs, a nightclub, seven bars, three restaurants, it’s loaded. And the setting is beyond beautiful. They flew me out last month, and I signed on to be a partner the first day. It blew me away.”
Emma whistled. “That’s some serious cash. Your only clients will be the wealthiest one percent.”
“That’s the idea,” Antonio said. “Bringing together wealthy hipsters is what it’s all about. There are a lot of under-thirty millionaires these days.”
“What’s the island called?” Pete asked.
“We’re still trying to come up with a killer slogan, but right now we’re referring to it as Hookup Island.”
“Why not just call it Fuck Me Island?” Mallory said. “That’s what’s going to be happening there, and it’s the only possible reason anyone would pay that much. To fuck, and fuck a lot.”
“Why not Marry Me Island?” Emma said. “That’s what all the attendees are hoping to find—love.”
“You have such a sweet heart, Emma,” Charlotte said. “It’s like you’re a Disney princess with really nice tits, firm abs, and a killer ass. It’s like if Ariel became human and we got to see her walk around naked.”
“Come on, I can’t be that far off! If I spent that kind of money to go to an island like that,” Emma sputtered, “it would be to find my perfect match!”
“Yeah, right,” Mallory snorted. “The chances of me finding Mr. Right on that Tahitian island are the same as the bachelorette finding an actual, non-asshole husband on network television. If I were in charge of those roses, I’d toss them on the ground and crush them beneath the heel of my Jimmy Choo, then I’d invite all the guys to do me at once, no strings attached. All the guys there just want to fuck and be on TV.”
“I can totally envision that.” Charlotte giggled. “It would make for hella good TV. But, hey, it happened to one of the bachelorettes, so it can happen for you, too, right?” Charlotte turned to Antonio. “I call dibs on the next test crowd, Tonio. After you dump me, it’s the least you can do to mend my broken heart.” She smiled sweetly and held up her drink. “Cheers to amicable breakups and hot island hookups, now fill me up.”
Antonio picked up the champagne and refilled her glass. “No one is breaking up with anyone tonight. So on that note, let’s head in and eat. What do you guys say?” He stood. “They have a table waiting for us.”
They followed him in.
Emma was directly behind Antonio. At the table he turned, smiled at her, and pulled out the chair next to him. “Won’t you have a seat?”
She sat.
18
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Pete was seated across the table from Emma. He watched her laugh and have a good time next to Antonio the entire meal. If it hadn’t been for Mallory distracting him, he would’ve overturned the table and hauled her out of there after the first five minutes.
Mallory leaned in, whispering, “Your frowny face is scaring the staff. Snap out of it. We’re almost done. Then it’s time for the real fun to begin.”
“The only fun Emma and I are having is back in our room,” Pete commented. “I’m taking her home right after dinner.”
Mallory laughed. “Yeah, right. If Antonio has anything to say about it, we’ll all be fucking on his villa deck before the night is over, his cock firmly embedded in your wife.”
“Over my dead body,” Pete replied gruffly.
“This is all coming along so nicely,” Mallory said. “You are definitely a predictable man.” She set her hand on his chest and drew a nail downward. “It’s too bad you’re taken, because we could’ve totally had some fun. You’re a guy’s guy, and I like that. The caveman type. But totally loyal. I need to clone you.” A curtain of hair fell over one eye as she leaned forward, blocking Pete’s view of the other side of the table. Then, unexpectedly, she nibbled his earlobe. When he jerked back, she held him steady by the shoulders, saying, “Hold tight, cowboy. This is all part of the plan.”
“What fucking plan?” Pete hissed. He was having trouble keeping his voice below a yell.
He was sick of it all.
“To make Emma jealous, of course,” Mallory replied sweetly. She patted his chest. “Dude, you need to wake up and smell the Cuban. You’re going to need to make your wife want you more than she wants the shiny new treat who’s showering her with attention and affection and expensive-as-hell champagne. And she’s going to want you all the more when she thinks I want you. Capisce?”
“No, it’s not capisce at all—”
“Are you two all right?” Emma asked from the other side of the table.
Pete’s head snapped up.
He hadn’t realized that he’d basically been in a huddle with Mallory. “We’re fine—I’m fine. Just ready to head out.”
“Oh, where are you two going?” Emma’s face was inscrutable.
“No, we’re going.” He gestured between the two of them, trying not to sound too frustrated. “You and I. Back to the villa.”
Emma’s eyebrows rose as she glanced between him and Mallory. “Antonio and Charlotte are having a bonfire in front of their villa. They’ve invited some other couples to join them. It’s going to be fun, and I’d like to go.”
Pete was about to say there was no way in hell that was happening, but Mallory reached under the table and pinched his leg. “Fine,” he ground out. “We can do it if you want.”
Antonio heard every word and grinned ear to ear like he’d just won a contest. Pete wanted to punch the smile off his face. His fists curled in his lap.
“I think everyone is finished.” Antonio set his napkin on the table. “Shall we go?”
Once again, they all stood and followed him out. He was like the Pied Piper of Paradise. Pete could see no other choice but to follow. But it made him sick to be one of this guy’s ducklings.
How had this happened so fast? They’d only been there a day.
Once outside they took the wood path. After a few hundred feet, Pete couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get away for a few minutes, or he was going to go bonkers. He decided to take the beach the rest of the way back to clear his head. “Does anyone know if this path is the one that heads to the beach?” he called, stopping at an intersection everyone else had already passed.