Whip It Out (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) Book 3)

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Whip It Out (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) Book 3) Page 16

by Kat Addams


  “What?” I said, covering my face with my palms.

  “I want that too.” He pried my fingers from my cheeks and tilted my chin up. “I’m truly sorry for that dumbass test. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough or anything like that. You’re enough. More than enough. You’re everything.”

  And those words meant more than the three words he’d said before. I threw my arms around him, partly because I didn’t want him to see my eyes tearing up and partly because I needed him to catch me.

  “Terrance?” I wiped at my eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “If you ever trick me again or pull some bullshit, I’ll string you up by your quaffle balls and parade you around town as a warning to others.”

  New Betty but still old Betty, I told myself, satisfied with the balance I’d found.

  “I’d expect nothing less of you. I’m yours.” He reached in his jacket pocket, pulling a leash and collar out.

  I took it from his hand, fastening the collar around my neck and looping the chain through the buckle.

  “It was supposed to be for me, but I think I might like this better.” He slipped a finger under the leather collar and tugged, biting his lip.

  “I know. We can take turns though. New Betty. Your Betty.”

  I dangled the chain in front of his face. He grasped it, rolling it up around his wrist until he pulled my lips to his and growled. I let myself go, breathing out with the old and in with the new. Besides, if he fucked up again, this chain would double as the most painful whip I owned.

  Epilogue

  Terrance

  I pulled my mobile mixologist truck, The Juice Caboose—named after my girlfriend’s hot ass—behind The Pink Taco Truck. On weekends, during the winter weather, we’d collaborate on our menus. DTF would churn out churros for my spiked Mexican hot cocoa. Or they’d pair a braised Shizzle Sauce brisket with a hot Shizzle Sauce toddy of my making. Business had grown for both of us, even during the slow season.

  When Betty had mentioned to The Pink Taco Truck’s founder, Earl, my idea for a mobile bar, he had jumped on the chance to crown me his latest investment—after Betty made him put me through tests to deem my worthiness. Payback was a bitch. I ran a race, learned to knit, volunteered with DTF, found out what those metal balls were for on her sex shelf, and met her mom.

  That last test was brutal. I dodged trap after trap with Betty’s mom, but nothing she threw at me stuck. Finally, she had accepted me and realized that I was not only good enough for her daughter, but that her daughter was good enough too.

  They still didn’t speak much, but Betty and her mom would never have the type of relationship she needed. Instead, Betty funneled that energy into being the mother she wanted to be to Maisy. Their relationship had blossomed.

  I peered outside of my order window, watching both Betty and Maisy coloring in a notebook. The sun shone warm enough to heat the midday, and the lull that followed our lunch rush was more than welcome. I had thought setting my own hours and being a boss would be great. But I hadn’t realized how great. I was still as busy as ever, but I had my girls with me now—both of them. And my dad even worked, helping me out. Who would have thought that bartending also ran in the family?

  “I could use a hotty toddy, Tito man!” Betty shouted, glancing at me from behind her shoulder.

  “What’s the magic word?” I called back.

  “Expecto a cocktail!” Maisy said, waving her crayon in the air like it was a wand.

  “Nope. Try again,” I yelled back.

  Betty rose from her chair and marched around the back of my truck, letting herself in and stepping between my dad and me.

  “I’m going to leave you two alone for a minute and go help Maisy with her book.” He nodded, getting out of Betty’s way.

  “The magic word, you say? Or the safe word?” Betty pushed me against the counter, leaning in and biting my lower lip.

  “Safe word,” I moaned. “I’ll make anything you want, just keep doing that.”

  Her fingers fumbled down my abs and went straight in for the kill, grabbing my cock with that familiar strangle move she liked to do.

  “Beavis,” she whispered before bursting into a fit of laughter.

  “I told you we couldn’t pick a funny safe word. It ruins the whole moment. Can’t we say something like harder?” I smirked.

  “Lighten up, my man.” She elbowed me in the side. “I’ve got enough coming for you tonight. I am prepping for our honeymoon. I’ve got to work on my stamina. Talk about marathon sex. Just wait until we get to that exotic place you said you’re taking me to.”

  I tucked my fingers in between her belt loops and tugged her toward me, pushing my rock-hard cock up against her. “Miss Willis, I can’t imagine the honeymoon sex you have planned. I’m betting it’s not going to be a sweet and clean lovemaking session. But something I can remember. I’m betting you and your friends are planning an entire wedding that is going to be … way outside of normal. Am I right?”

  “Of course mine is. Nikki is going the traditional route since they already eloped, and Ma won’t get off her ass about having a real wedding. Rox is a mix of in between. But you know me; I can’t have white cake and pink flowers.”

  “Why don’t you three just have an entire DTF wedding? One big party?”

  “What about Layla? We can’t just leave her out. She was supposed to be the first one to get married anyway. None of the rest of us ever expected it to happen to us, especially like this.”

  “What do you mean, like this?” I rubbed my scruffy jawline, where Betty reached up, stroking me softly. Yes, Betty was soft. Sometimes.

  “Just so fast. One minute, we were all trying to figure out life, and the next, things just fell into place like they were meant to, I guess. I can’t explain it.” She stepped aside, leaning against the counter and watching Maisy.

  DTF had taken a break, and they were all sitting at a table, passing coloring pages around between them.

  “It’s like your DTF family keeps growing. But with men. And a little girl. And who knows what next year will bring? Maybe babies.” I stood behind her, wrapping my arms around that tiny waist of hers.

  I did not doubt in my mind that, in a year, her taut belly would begin growing. We’d both hinted around at wanting children as soon as we were married.

  “It’s true though,” she said, intertwining her hands with mine and tugging me tighter around her.

  “And you’re okay with your little girl gang growing? All of this happening, as you said, so fast?” I stroked her flawless hair, sinking my nose in her scalp and breathing in her familiar coconut scent.

  I didn’t need an exotic vacation when I had Betty. She was my escape.

  “When you know, you know. Look at them out there. They’re all happy. Even single Layla. How could I not be okay with life right now? It’s perfect.”

  She bit her bottom lip hard, sucking it in between her teeth and taking a deep breath. Over the last few months, I’d come to know, that was the way she held back tears. Sad tears, happy tears, painful tears.

  We both stood silently, watching Layla dance with Maisy while Rox and Nikki had their heads together, concentrating on coloring a picture. My dad was busy stuffing his face with tacos and laughing with Earl. Even the cold winds couldn’t keep everyone apart for long.

  “I’d better make her come in and warm up for a little bit at least. She’s going to catch a cold out there.” Betty nodded toward Maisy.

  “You’re already an amazing mom. So caring, so sweet, so—”

  “Did you just call me sweet?” She shook her head before kissing me with a sharp peck on the lips and climbing back out of my truck.

  “Sweet like poison. Alcohol. Shizzle Sauce. Dark and … juicy?” I called out.

  “Just stop while you’re ahead. You know we still haven’t gotten our dirty talk down. Let’s add that to the list of things to work on for our great escape. In the meantime …” She blew me a kiss a
nd motioned her arm in the air as if she were cracking a whip.

  I winked, letting her believe she was a badass. But she and I both knew that she really had grown sweet.

  The more time she spent with Maisy and me, the bigger her heart grew. She even said the L-word to us in front of her friends and family. And me? I didn’t need any tests or games to find her worthy. She’d always been worthy.

  She was Queen B, and I was her Tito. She had me by the quaffle balls, and I loved every second of it.

  Playlist

  Do you want to turn up the girl power? Check out a few of these songs from the official Whip It Out playlist. For the full playlist, click here!

  “Black Betty” | Ram Jam

  “Won’t Bite” | Doja Cat

  “Anaconda” | Nicki Minaj

  “Nasty Gal” | Betty Davis

  “Game Is My Middle Name” | Betty Davis

  “Let’s Stay Together” | Tina Turner

  “I Need a Freak” | Nemesis

  Acknowledgments

  As always, for my daughter. May we all raise strong women. Everything I do is for you. That will never change. If a man ever breaks your heart, Mama will kick him in the quaffle balls for you.

  Thank you to my diversity editor, Renita McKinney, who helped me look at things from a different perspective. I appreciate everything you taught me. A huge thank you to my editor, Jovana Shirley, who always makes my books sparkle. My books would probably read like a twelve-year-old wrote them without her. Also, thank you to my cover designer, Lori Jackson. I don’t trust anyone else with my covers! She is ridiculously talented! Same to my publicist, Kelley Hawthorne. She has given me a wealth of knowledge and guidance in this industry. And last but not least in my business world, thank you to my assistant, Kari Hogan. I couldn’t get nearly as much done without you. I have the best team, and without all of these ladies, I would be lost. They are all true DTF.

  I owe a lot of thanks to my friend, TE. You are my Betty. Thank you so much for helping me navigate life’s crazy curveballs, all while making me laugh. You are a blessing.

  Also, thank you to DN for sticking by me when my inner Betty comes out and taking me on anyway. You were put in the right place at the right time, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I appreciate your support. All of it.

  Thank you to the DTF gang, the bookstagrammers, my ARC team, and all of the people out there sharing and supporting these crazy books of mine. You make me look good! I appreciate all of you and your hard work.

  DTF!!!

  About the Author

  Kat Addams is a forever twenty-nine-year-old fashionista following her lifelong dream of writing contemporary romance inspired by the exotic men she meets in her worldly travels. At least, that’s what she would like for you to think. She’s certainly not a stay-at-home mom indulging in excessive daydreaming, frozen pizzas, an unhealthy addiction to purchasing pajamas, and one too many cocktails on the regular. That’s some other romance author. The poor thing probably has to sneak away upstairs to write her dirty stories! What would her family think? Thankfully, that’s not Kat!

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  OTHER BOOKS BY KAT ADDAMS

  DIRTY SOUTH SERIES

  Hotty Toddy (Free for newsletter subscribers: https://kataddams.com/free-book)

  Grit and Grind

  Nashvegas Nights

  Mr. Big Ego

  Mayday

  DTF (DIRTY. TOUGH. FEMALE.) SERIES

  On the Rox

  Cream-Pied

  Whip It Out

  Just the Tip

 

 

 


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