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Heart of a Prick (An Unforgivable Romance Book 3) by Ella Miles (2)

1

Skye

Him, him, definitely him, not him, so hot, gross, him, him.

My mind scans all the men within eyesight as I lie on my chaise lounger by the pool at my all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas. I’m here for exactly seven days, and I plan on making the most of it. That means men. Lots and lots of men. Lots of sex. And zero thoughts about my real life, which has taken a turn for the worse recently. This week is all about relaxing and having a good time while I do it.

I take a sip of my piña colada. I’ve got the relaxing thing down. I have my chaise lounger, I have a bartender wrapped around my finger, bringing me drinks as soon as my glass is empty, and I’m surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. I just need to find a man for the week, and then I’ll be all set.

The problem is finding one that will fit my needs for this week. I want wild animal sex. The kind that involves tying each other up and spanking and all things kinky. The kind that no guy back home would dare to do.

I just don’t know how to find that guy. There are plenty of hot men at this resort. And plenty that seem single. But how do I find a guy who will give in to all my darkest desires?

“Another, Miss Skye?” my favorite bartender asks as he holds out another piña colada to me.

I grin behind my sunglasses and large hat. “Thank you, Bayron.” I take the drink from him.

“You look like you’re thinking hard. You shouldn’t be thinking so hard. You’re in paradise! You should just relax and let what happens, happen.”

I nod. “Maybe. But what if I have specific needs for this trip? Needs that I’m not sure how to go about getting.”

“You mean, a man?”

I nod, grinning.

He chuckles. “I don’t think a woman as smart and beautiful as you should have much trouble finding a nice man.”

I smirk. “But what if I don’t want a nice man? What if I want a bad boy? A very, very bad boy.”

He glances around at the choices currently surrounding the pool. “I don’t think you should have much difficulty with that either.” He winks at me.

I laugh. “You’re right. But how do I choose? What if I have too many options?”

He thinks for a moment and then glances over at the small stage set up near the pool where they often have a band play music or occasionally entertain with competitions and poolside games.

“How about a competition? Winner wins a date with you.”

I bite my lip as I stare at another man strutting by with muscles that contract with each step, begging to be put to use in bed with a woman like me. It could take me all week to find a man who is good in bed. But, if I can put them through a series of tests to figure out which one has the qualities I’m looking for, then I can find the guy in half the time and get on to the good stuff.

I take my hat off and push my sunglasses up on my head as I sit up on my lounger. “Let’s do it!”

Bayron smiles and holds out his hand to me. I take it and let my long, dark hair with blue highlights flow down my back, matching the dark blue bikini I’m wearing. Between my hair, tattoos, and piercings in my nose, eyebrow, and ears, any man should know that I’m not looking for a good man.

Bayron leads me around the pool over to the small stage where he takes the microphone and turns it on.

“You sure about his?” he asks, whispering to me.

“Yes.” I’ve never been so sure about needing anything. I’m desperate to find a man who can help me forget.

“Hey, Royal Bahamas Resort! Are you guys having a good time?” Bayron says.

The crowd around the pool shouts back, “Yes!”

“Awesome! I have a special treat for you today. This lovely lady here is looking for a date, and we are going to help her get one.”

The crowd cheers again as I scan the pool, trying to determine which guy I want the most.

“This is Miss Skye. She’s from New Mexico. She’s smart and beautiful, and she’s looking for a bad boy to keep her company this week. If you think you fit that bill, I want you to run onto this stage in the next ten seconds. And then the real competition will begin.”

I bite my lip as the anxiety and anticipation build.

“Go! One…two…three…” Bayron starts counting, and men start running up onstage.

Some very, very good-looking men join us onstage. Men with muscles, men with beards, men with dreamy eyes, and men with tattoos. Almost all the men running up onstage look like men I’d love to take back to my room and have a test run with. But I need to choose just one. Or at least one for now.

“And time!” Bayron shouts.

He starts walking up and down the stage area, counting how many men have decided to enter. “It looks like we have fifteen men who would like to compete for a date! That’s far too many.” Bayron walks back to me and whispers in my ear, “What would you like them to do first?”

“Strength. I want a strong man. So, knock out the weaklings.”

He nods and holds the microphone back to his lips. “Skye wants a man who’s strong. So, for this competition, we are going to do as many push-ups as you can in sixty seconds. I’m going to need a little help with this one.”

Bayron waves over to more of his staff to come join him. The staff line up around the men, helping them spread out around the pool area and stage.

“Everyone ready? The top ten will move on to the next round.”

The men and staff nod.

“Go!” Bayron says, staring at his watch.

I watch, drooling as the men start doing push-ups as fast as they can. I can already tell by watching them which ones are truly in shape and which men aren’t. And which men are too drunk to even attempt a push-up.

Two men, in particular, grab my attention. A blond man with arms for days. And a black man who is killing everyone. Both of them have excellent bodies. Either one could handle my body with ease.

“Time!” Bayron yells.

He walks down, asking the judges how many the men got.

“Okay, if you did less than a hundred, you’re out!”

Five men slump back to the pool or loungers after having their egos crushed.

I look at the contestants that are left. All look fit. All look gorgeous. All look like men I’d gladly share a bed with.

Bayron again asks me what I want them to compete on next.

“I need a fast man,” I answer.

He raises an eyebrow. “Skye wants a guy who is fast. I’m guessing she’s still trying to weed out the in-shape guys from the ones who aren’t—and she doesn’t mean fast in bed. So, for our speed test, we are going to divide you into two swimming races. The fastest three in each race will move on.”

I watch as the first group jumps into the water. One of the men glances over at me with hungry eyes, and my heart about stops. That’s what I want. A man who desires me. I want a man who will fight and compete for me.

Bayron starts the first race, and I find myself cheering for the man who looked at me with hungry eyes. He wins easily.

The second round starts, but I find myself still entranced with the man who won the first race. I’m not even paying attention to the second race.

The winners are decided, and again, I watch as the losers sulk off, disappointed.

“What do you want me to test next, sweetheart?” Bayron asks.

“Pain.”

He nods, thinking for a second. “Next, we are going to test to see who can handle pain the longest. We are going to pass out two weights to each of you, and you will hold them out to your sides, arms extended. The last six men still holding on to their weights will continue.”

The weights are distributed to the six remaining men, which consists of Hungry Eyes from the swimming round, both of the men I noticed from the strength round, and three other men I haven’t paid much attention to yet.

“Go!” Bayron shouts.

I watch in pain, hoping that my favorites survive to make it to the next round.

All are doing well and holding their own, but I see the blond starting to falter. He won’t hold out much longer. After a few more seconds, his arms fall. Either the push-ups from earlier wore him out or he couldn’t handle the pain. Either way, he’s not my bad boy. Too bad.

Other men start falling, leaving me with four men. The winner of the swimming round. The winner of the strength. A new winner from the pain round. And then another man who hasn’t won any but hasn’t lost either.

“What’s up next?” Bayron asks, jogging next to me.

“Two rounds left. The first round is dirty. Who can tell me the dirtiest, filthiest thing?”

Bayron nods. “You heard her. Prepare your best lines. We want you to get dirty. Tell her the filthiest thing you can think of.”

The first man walks forward. The winner of the strength round. I want to eat up his juicy, dark muscles.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I want to kiss you. Claim you. Make you mine.”

I smile at him as he takes a step back. It was good but not really that dirty.

Next up is the man who won the last round. He’s taller than the rest, and he has deep, dark eyes. He leans down and whispers, “I want to spank your gorgeous ass while I fuck you into ecstasy.”

I grin. Better.

I bite my lip while I wait for the next guy. The winner of the swimming round and my favorite so far.

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, giving me goosebumps, as he says, “I want to tie you up to your bed, so you can’t move. Then, I want to lick honey off your bare skin before I spank your ass until it’s bright red. I won’t stop until you are screaming my name, begging me to stop because you can’t come anymore.”

Damn. He’s the clear winner so far.

Last up is a man I’ve barely noticed before. He says something into my ear, but I’m still so lost in the last guy’s words that I don’t even hear him.

“So, who is the loser?” Bayron asks.

I take a deep breath, not liking having to choose a loser.

“Number one,” I say.

“Sorry, number one. You’re out. We have one final round, which is…”

“Best kisser, of course,” I say with a large grin as I stare at the final three men that I get to kiss.

Any one of them could be amazing in bed and give me exactly what I’m looking for this week. It all comes down to who can make my toes curl the most. And I think the man who said the dirtiest line is most likely going to be the winner.

The first man steps forward, forcefully grabs my head with both hands, and presses his lips to mine. He’s aggressive. I like that. But he’s so aggressive that his lips miss my mouth initially. He quickly corrects himself, pushing his tongue into my mouth like he’s trying to suffocate me.

My eyes stay wide as he kisses me. I’m in shock as to what exactly he’s trying to do to me. I try to grab on to him to keep from falling backward, but when he releases me, I stumble backward, unable to keep my balance.

Bayron shoots me a look, asking if I’m okay.

I nod and bite my lip to keep from giving away how horrible that kiss was, so I don’t completely embarrass the poor man in front of everyone.

“All right, number two, give her your best kiss,” Bayron says.

I take a deep breath to prepare myself for his kiss. I know it can’t be any worse than the first. I know his kiss is going to be the best. He’s won everything else. He’s the one. I know it.

He walks toward me and takes me into his arms. He dips me backward as his tongue moistens his lips before he places a flawless kiss on my lips with just the tiniest hint of tongue. It is perfect. The right amount of moisture. The right amount of force. The right amount of control.

It’s a pleasant kiss that warms my insides.

He brings me back up as he ends the kiss to hoots and hollers from the crowd, obviously liking the performance he put on. I liked it, too. But something was missing. Maybe it was the fact that we were in front of a large crowd. Maybe it’s that I don’t even know his real name, and it’s keeping me from feeling more. But whatever it is, I intend on finding the missing piece to that kiss once I declare him as the winner.

I smile at him, giving him a wink, as he steps back in line with the other men.

“Woo, that was one hot kiss. I’m not sure if contestant number three can beat that, but give it your best shot,” Bayron says.

I still have my eyes glued to contestant number two when contestant number three approaches.

One of his hands goes around my waist, and the other tangles in my hair as he pulls my body tightly to his, forcing me to stop looking at any other man other than him. I get one glimpse of his dark eyes before he kisses me. And then my eyes are forced closed, his body commanding that I give everything to him in the kiss. He takes his time, not rushing it, as he expertly slips his tongue into my mouth. His hand glides down from my waist to my ass as his hard cock pushes into my stomach, making it clear how badly he wants me. I feel a shock wave shoot throughout my body as he deepens the kiss, pushing me to my limit.

He stops the kiss, but I can’t open my eyes yet. I’m panting heavily as he holds me in his arms. I feel his hand stroke my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Being so gentle after being so rough.

I open my eyes and stare into his, not sure what the hell just happened other than something amazing. It wasn’t perfect. It was rough, primal, a panty-melting kind of kiss. The kind that only a bad boy with years of experience in getting dirty with plenty of women can give.

He slowly lets me go and takes his place back in line with the other men. I know that Bayron is going to ask me who the winner is. I thought it was going to be number two in a landslide. But number three just made things way more complicated. And, now, I’m not sure who I’m going to choose.