by Lauren Rowe
“Hell yeah. Razzle-dazzle us, Playboy.”
He smirks. “You sure you can handle it?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Okay, I’ll show you the Playboy razzle-dazzle, but I gotta warn you, even in role-play, it’s gonna make you wanna sleep with me.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“Just sayin’—you’ve been warned.”
“I’ll risk it,” I say again.
“I think you should sign a waiver first.”
I roll my eyes. “Just give it to me already.”
“That’s exactly what you’ll say after I show you the Playboy razzle-dazzle.”
I laugh. “We’ll see about that. Come on.”
“Fine. But we’re at a bar, not Starbucks. At least let me play on my home turf.”
“Okay,” I say. “We’re at a bar. Go.”
Josh slowly gets up from his chair and sidles up to me, taking his sweet time.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says smoothly. “I’m Josh.” He puts out his hand.
I take his hand. “Hi, I’m Kat.”
He leans into me, close enough for me to get a whiff of his cologne, and my knees instantly go weak.
He whispers softly into my ear. “What are you drinking, Kat?”
My clit zings. “A mojito,” I choke out.
He turns to Henn. “Hey, bartender, another mojito for the gorgeous lady with the sexy little cleft in her chin.” He looks at me and levels me with a dark blue smolder that makes my clit pound like a jackhammer. “You ready to get out of here, sweetheart? Because I’m in the mood to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, skimming his hand down my arm. “Before you answer, you should know: I’ve got a huge dick and I know exactly how to use it to make you scream. All you need to decide is whether you wanna have the night of your life.”
There’s a long beat during which I feel warm wetness literally ooze into the crotch of my panties.
“What do you say, honey? You ready to go?”
I nod.
“Let’s go.”
He holds out his hand and I take it.
All of a sudden, I want one thing: for Josh to pull me out the door and straight to my room. But, instead, Josh releases my hand and turns to Henn, smiling.
“Badah-bing-badah-boom,” he says. “Easy peasy. Now you try it. Just like that.”
“Ummmmmmmm,” Henn says. “Could you be serious, please? I actually wanna know what you do, no kidding around.”
“I wasn’t kidding around. That’s what I do.”
Henn laughs. “Come on, Josh.”
Josh whips his attention onto me. “Kat, in all seriousness—would that have worked on you if I did it just like that?”
“In all seriousness?” I say. Oh man, my heart is racing out of my chest. “Hell yes.”
“See?” Josh says. He shrugs. “Success with babe-baggery is all about confidence. Everything else is secondary.” He sits back down, a cocky grin on his face. “Thank you, Kat.” He winks. “You’re excellent at role-play—not surprisingly.”
I sit back down, flustered.
“It always boils down to confidence,” Josh says. “Am I right, Madame Professor?”
“Yeah,” I say, struggling to regain my composure. Oh shit. There’s a deep, dull ache in my abdomen that won’t go away. I clear my throat. “But don’t forget, Josh, getting the babe hooked on the line is only the first step—then you’ve actually got to be able to deliver on all that bravado or else you’re sunk.” I shoot Josh a smart-ass look that, hopefully, says, “You’re full of shit.”
Josh’s eyes are brimming with confidence. “Well, duh. It goes without saying a guy’s gotta be able to deliver on everything he promises—that’s where true confidence comes from, being able to walk the walk.” He winks. “‘Under-promise and over-perform,’ I always say. And believe me, I just under-promised on what I can perform.”
Oh holy hell. I can’t breathe.
“So let’s start simple, then,” Josh says to Henn. “The first step is being able to kiss a woman like a boss. For women, kissing is everything—you gotta be able to curl her toes, man. From there, all good things will come to you. Kiss a woman right, she’ll be begging you for more. Am I right, Madame Professor?”
I shoot Josh a pointed look. “Yep. No doubt about it. Begging.”
Josh bites his lip.
“Well, no sweat, guys. Because I happen to be a fantastic kisser.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
“Yup.”
“Fantastic?”
“Well, okay, maybe not fantastic. But pretty damned good.”
“What’s your technique?”
“My technique? Well, I can’t describe it. It’s a show-me-don’t-tell-me kind of thing.”
“Well, you gotta give me something to work with here, Henny. How else am I gonna be able to give you feedback?”
“I can’t describe it,” Henn says, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Try explaining it to me, Henn,” I say. “Josh is right—that first kiss can make or break you—lead you to the Promised Land or sink you like a stone.” I flash Josh a smart-ass look. “You gotta get it right.”
Josh squints at me. “Yeah, Kat’s right. But that’s only because women sometimes place ridiculous importance on what should be a simple kiss—irrational, ridiculous, stupid importance—when they should just chill out and go with the flow and stop acting like a fucking terrorist.”
“Jesus, Josh,” Henn says.
Josh’s eyes are locked with mine. I squint at him, and he returns the gesture.
“Why don’t you just show her, bro?” Josh says, still looking at me. “That’s the simplest way for us to approach this.”
My face involuntarily morphs into a “what the fuck” look.
“You don’t mind, do you, Kat?” Josh asks evenly.
“You mean... you want me to . . .?” Henn asks.
“Yeah, why not?” Josh says. “Unless, of course, Kat’s gonna require you to reveal all your secrets in order to kiss her?”
I narrow my eyes at Josh and then whip my head to look at Henn. “I think it’s a great idea for you to kiss me. How else are we gonna know if you’ve got the right technique?”
Henn’s face is bright red. “I don’t think this is such a good idea, guys.”
“Why the fuck not?” I say. I look at Josh with defiance. “It’s just for instructional purposes, right? No big deal.” Josh isn’t really gonna let me kiss another man in his presence, is he—even if it’s just Henn? Even if it’s just for “instructional purposes”?
“I agree,” Josh says, clenching his jaw.
I open my mouth, horrified. What the fuck? He’s gotta be bluffing.
“The woman obviously places a shit-ton of importance on kissing,” Josh continues. “So I’m sure her feedback will be invaluable to you.” His eyes are searing holes into my flesh.
There’s no way he’s gonna let me go through with this, right?
“No, it’s too weird,” Henn says. “I mean, you two guys are a couple... right?”
“Josh and me?” I say through gritted teeth. “Noooo. Josh and I haven’t even kissed—and we’ve mutually decided we’re not going to. Ever. We just don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”
Josh swallows hard, his eyes burning. “Kat’s right. We’re never going to kiss because she’s a fucking terrorist who takes some sort of sick pleasure in holding men hostage for ransom she has no business demanding.”
“What am I missing here?” Henn asks. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing’s going on, like I said. Josh and I are just friends—friends who don’t tell each other everything, and therefore don’t kiss.”
Henn looks confused. “You require someone to tell you ‘everything’ just to kiss you? What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Not everything. Just certain things.” I clear my throat. “Things I’d tell
if the situation were reversed.”
Henn and Josh exchange a look.
I look down, color rising in my cheeks. Is Josh really gonna watch me kiss another man?
“Go ahead, Henn,” Josh says. “YOLO.”
I swivel my head up to look at Josh. He looks like he wants to kill me right now—right after he fucks the living hell out of me.
Well, if he’s not gonna stop me, then I’m not gonna stop me, either.
Is Josh really not gonna stop me?
I look at Josh. He’s glaring at me. I look at Henn. He looks utterly confused.
“Okay, Henn,” I say. “Gimme your best kiss. I’ll critique you from the field. And, Josh, you watch closely from the nose-bleed seats so you can give Henn your feedback, too.”
Josh doesn’t reply.
“Did you hear me, Josh? I want you to watch Henn kiss me—watch closely.”
“I heard you, Madame Terrorist.”
Henn looks at Josh, seemingly for permission.
“Go ahead,” Josh says. “Kiss her. She’s all yours.” He exhales and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
He’s really not gonna stop me? Goddammit! I feel like stomping my feet, I’m so mad. Doesn’t he realize this whole thing’s not about his stupid application anymore? We’re way beyond that now. Now it’s about something more—something bigger.
“Kat?” Henn asks. “Are you okay?”
I wipe my eyes, emotion threatening. I don’t look at Josh—I can’t. I’m afraid if I do, my eyes will betray every last thought bouncing around in my head. I want him. I want him so bad, I’m aching. But I want all of him. Not just his lips or his very large dick. I want to know what’s hiding beneath his Happy Josh mask. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s do this,” I say.
“You’re sure you’re cool with it?” Henn asks me.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” I stand. “I can’t think of a single reason not to.”
I can feel Josh’s eyes on me, but I don’t look at him.
Henn stands slowly.
“And you’re cool, Josh?”
“Yup.”
My chest is tight. I still can’t look at Josh. “Okay,” I say. “Gimme your top-of-the-line smooch, Henny. Hit me with your best shot.”
Henn takes a slow step toward me. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I put my finger up. “Just for instructional purposes, though.”
“Yeah, I know.” Henn exhales. “Should I go brush my teeth first? Have a mint?”
“Did you eat onions or garlic recently?”
“No. Chocolate cake, apple pie, cheesecake, ice cream. Oh, and tiramisu.”
“We’re good, then.”
He exhales and shakes out his arms. “Whew. Okay.”
Henn takes another step toward me. And then another. But then he stops. He glances at Josh—but since I can’t bring myself to look at Josh’s face right now, I have no idea what Henn is seeing over there. Whatever it is, Henn obviously feels emboldened by it, because he turns back to me and takes another step, bridging the final gap between our bodies.
Henn cups my face gently in his palms and leans forward.
I close my eyes and, within half a second, Henn’s soft, warm lips meet mine, gently at first—as if he’s introducing himself to me—and after a few seconds, coax my mouth open with surprising confidence and skill. He slides his tongue into my mouth, instantly leading my tongue into a sensuous, languid, swirling motion—until, after one last flicker of his tongue, his lips guide mine closed and he retreats.
Henn’s lips leave mine. Kiss over.
Holy shitballs.
I open my eyes to find Henn staring at me, his eyes wide and face red.
I glance at Josh, my cheeks suddenly blazing with heat, and my breath catches at the ferocious expression on his face. I don’t know Josh well enough to understand exactly what emotion he’s telegraphing right now—is that anger, arousal, jealousy... or something else? Whatever it is, it’s clear to me the man is feeling something fueled by a shit-ton of testosterone.
“I... That was... um . . .” I stammer. “Wow, Henn.” I swallow hard. “I don’t think you need... any... instruction whatsoever.”
Twenty-Five
Josh
Jesus Christ. Enough, already. When will this torturous kiss between Henn and Kat end? Enough. Well, now I know: I’m dealing with a fucking monster. A gorgeous, twisted, evil, sexy fucking monster. I didn’t think she’d actually go through with it. What the fuck is she thinking? Poor Henn’s never gonna recover from this goddamned kiss. I’m only watching it, and she’s scarring me for life.
After what seems like forever, Henn and Kat finally break away from their kiss, and Kat’s eyes instantly dart to me. I steel myself, expecting her to smile like the vicious shark she is—like the prehistoric killing machine she is—but the look on her face absolutely floors me. Her eyes aren’t blazing with smart-ass defiance, no—they’re glistening with something else... Hurt.
Henn hasn’t stopped staring at Kat since they broke apart from their kiss, even though she’s looking at me. Jesus, the poor guy looks like he just stumbled out of a hookah lounge.
Clearly, I’ve got to say something to smooth things out here, even though I’m literally trembling in my seat with adrenaline.
“Awesome, Henn,” I say. “You nailed it man—or should I say her?”
Kat’s face contorts into unbridled disgust.
Henn fidgets and takes a step back.
“I watched your technique carefully, man,” I continue breezily, “looking for any chink in your armor. But I couldn’t find a damned thing to critique. You should be giving me pointers, man.”
“Yeah, you slayed it, Henn,” Kat adds, her voice tight. Her mouth smiles, but her eyes don’t. “All I’ve got is praise, baby.”
I stand abruptly. “Well, I think I’m gonna hit the sack. I’m pretty wiped.”
Kat stands. “Me, too. Unless you still need some more help, Henn?”
“No, I’m good. I can take it from here.” He looks at his watch and clears his throat. “Wow, it’s almost three. I’m gonna get another Americano and start going through the first batch of stuff that’s been processed through translation software.” He looks at his three laptops sprawled on the table. “Should I move my shit to my room and work there?”
“Nah, no worries. Stay put. I’m just gonna crash. Gimme your room key, man. I’ll crash in your room.” My eyes flicker briefly to Kat to get a read on her—to see if maybe she’s toying with the idea of letting me “crash” in her room for the night—and I’m met with blue eyes of steel. My eyes dart back to Henn. “What’s your room number again, man?”
“1836.”
“Okay, well, nighty night, man.” I slide Henn’s key-card into my pocket. “Don’t drink too many Americanos. That shit’ll kill you.” I start moving toward the front door of the suite. “Come on, Kat. I’ll walk you to your room.”
“No need.”
“I promised Jonas I wouldn’t leave you alone while we’re here in Vegas, unless you’re safely in your room.”
She clenches her jaw. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to break a promise to Jonas, would we?”
“Thanks again for all the help tonight, guys,” Henn says. “You cut my workload down by hours.”
“Any time, bro. We’re all in this together.”
Kat hugs Henn and kisses him on the cheek. “You’re amazing, Henn—a fucking genius.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“And thanks for the kiss,” she says. “I know it was for instructional purposes only, but it was a really, really lovely kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. One for the memory book.”
“Hang on a sec, Kat,” I say. I quickly gather my toiletries and a change of clothes from the bedroom and stuff everything into a small duffel bag. “Okay. See you in the morning, Henn. Do you need anything from your room?”
“No. I’ll call down to the
front desk for a toothbrush. I’m fine.”
“Okay. Good night, man.”
I silently guide Kat through the front door of the suite.
“It’s all fun and games ’til someone gets hurt,” I mutter the second the door closes behind us.
“I couldn’t agree more,” she says, gritting her teeth.
“Didn’t look like you gave a shit about someone getting hurt a minute ago,” I reply.
She whips around to face me, her eyes blazing. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asks.
“I could say the same thing to you. Are you a complete sociopath?”
“What? You’re the one who offered me up like I was a wench at a pirate-bride auction.”
“Ha! I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I hope you’re happy now. You’ve ruined that boy.”
“I’ve ruined him? You’re the one who threw me at him! And now you’re all pissy because I did exactly what you told me to do?” she seethes. “Who’s the sociopath now?”
I throw up my hands in frustration.
“It looks like I’m not the only one who’s a suicide bomber, huh?” she says. “Looks like you’re willing to blow yourself up to win every bit as much as I am.”
She’s right about that. Fuck. I’m a fucking suicide bomber, goddammit. What’s happening to me? Kat’s driving me certifiably insane.
Wordlessly, I grab her arm and pull her to the elevators—I’m gonna drag her to her room and ditch her sorry ass there, let her think about what she just did to poor Henn—what she just did to me, goddammit—but when the doors open, something overtakes me. This woman makes me fucking crazy. I can’t get enough of her, even when she pisses me off.
I pull her inside the elevator, drop my duffel bag, and slam her against the fucking wall, pressing my hard-on into her and kissing her neck.
She moans loudly. “Yes,” she breathes.
“Stop torturing me,” I say, groping her breasts. “No more fucking games.”
She throws her head back and lifts her leg around my waist, guiding my hard-on into her crotch. I grind into her, pinning her hands above her head, licking and kissing her face, her ears, her chin—but not her lips. Fuck no, not her lips. There’s no fucking way.