by Lauren Rowe
“Do you always just tell women what they want to hear, Josh? That’s what I wanna know. Which leads me to the million-dollar question: Have you just been telling me what I wanna hear?”
My urge to smile vanishes. I throw up my hands, suddenly enraged. “Gimme a break, Kat. I’ve been one hundred percent honest with you and you know it.”
“I’m not so sure. You keep telling me I’m ‘the most beautiful woman you’ve ever been with’ and then I see you’ve been with a freaking Victoria’s Secret ‘Angel.’”
“So?” I ask.
“So, then I know for a fact you’re just blowing smoke up my butt.”
“Oh my God. You’re pissed I said you’re more beautiful than a Victoria’s Secret supermodel?” I take a deep breath, trying to control my rising anger. “Why are you doing this? I haven’t given you shit about Cameron Schulz or any of the guys you’ve slept with—and it sounds like there’s plenty to choose from.”
Oh shit, I shouldn’t have added that last bit. Ooph. The top of her head just popped off.
“Well, maybe you’d react differently if Cameron emailed me a photo of his balls and asked me to ‘motorboat’ them!” Her eyes bug out. “Again!” she shrieks.
I stifle the urge to laugh. She’s pretty funny right now.
Kat’s still fuming. “And you wanna know the reason why Cameron’s not sending me goddamned dick-and-ball-pics?” she continues. “Because I was honest and clear with him about my lack of interest.”
“Oh, okay, sure, Kat—you’re so fucking honest all the time. Let’s talk about that cute little speech of pure fiction you made about how you never, ever get jealous unless you’re in a committed relationship. Hmm? What about that?” I scoff. “So, okay, maybe I didn’t get my words exactly right when I talked to Jen. But that was because I was trying to let her down easy. At least I was trying to be nice.”
She clenches her jaw. “What does that mean? You don’t think I’m nice?”
I pause. “No, I... I think you’re nice—really nice. It’s just that...” Why do I keep feeling like I’m digging myself a deeper hole? “It’s just that, you know, you’re a Scorpio,” I say.
She looks at me blankly.
“God wouldn’t have designed you with a stinger on your tail if he didn’t want you to use it on occasion, right?”
Her mouth is hanging open.
“But that’s okay. I like your stinger.” Oh boy. I’m really not doing myself any favors here. Okay. Once again, the best defense is a good offense. “Jesus Christ, Kat,” I say. “You’re just like my fucking brother—physically perfect and you don’t even know it. And you’re needy just like him, too.” I shake my head. “Kat, you’re absolutely beautiful. I told you. I couldn’t have designed you better myself. But you’re also insane, apparently. You’re seriously driving me crazy.”
Her cheeks flush.
There’s a long beat.
“I’m not usually this crazy,” she says softly. She twists her mouth. “Something happens to me when I get around you.” She throws up her hands. “Look, I’m being an asshole—okay? I realize that. I’m sorry.” She exhales and flaps her lips together. “I tell you what. I’m gonna go downstairs and meet up with Henn and do the photo thing for my Oksana passport, okay? And while I do that, why don’t you stay here and write a reply to Jen. Whatever’s the truth, just tell her, once and for all, as clearly as possible.”
“I’m not interested in her, Kat, like I keep saying.”
She bares her teeth. “Glad to hear it. And after I do the photo thing with Henn,” she says, “I’m gonna sit my butt down at a Blackjack table, drink some whiskey, and get control of myself. I’m sorry I lost it—that email just really threw me for a loop.”
“Why?” I ask. “I already told you I fucked Jen. And, yeah, okay, I buried my face in her tits when I did it. So sue me.” I grin. “She’s got some really nice tits.”
Kat presses her lips together.
“Kat, she means nothing to me, like I said. I only called her because I told her I would when I ran back into the party and practically ran her over trying to get your shoes and purse.”
There’s a long beat.
“I don’t get why you’re reacting this way,” I say.
Kat looks up at the ceiling and then back at me, her face suddenly awash in emotion. “Just tell me right here and now, once and for all: are you Garrett Bennetting me?” she blurts. Tears suddenly flood her eyes and she wipes them.
“That’s what this is all about?”
She nods.
I roll my eyes. “No,” I say emphatically. “Of course not. I shouldn’t even have to tell you that.”
She wipes her eyes again. “All those women, Josh.” She looks up at the ceiling like she’s trying to keep tears from spilling out of her eyes. “I don’t care if you’re a manwhore. It’s just... you can have any woman you want—anyone at all. The daughter of Gabrielle LeMonde—”
I scoff loudly, shutting her up.
“A Victoria’s Secret Angel.”
“A devil-woman with battery acid in her heart.”
Kat bites her lip, obviously trying to suppress a smile. “Emma.”
“A woman who called me a sick fuck and then promptly ran off with a dude who owns polo ponies and wears a fucking ascot.”
There’s a long beat. Kat’s eyes are unreadable to me.
“I’m obviously way out of line here—just a total head case,” she says. “I’m sorry.” She exhales loudly. “I’m gonna go get a drink and play blackjack while you reply to Jen’s email. She’s a twat and a half, don’t get me wrong, but even twats have feelings, too, and she deserves an honest response. Lemme just go downstairs and pull myself together for a bit, okay? I’m really sorry I’m acting so crazy.”
She turns around to pound the elevator call-button, her shoulders slumped.
Fuck this shit. I’m not in the mood to write an email to Jen right now. There’s only one thing I want to do: kiss my smokin’ hot Party Girl with a Hyphen.
I bound down the hallway to Kat, my cheeks on fire, a massive lump in my throat, my dick rock hard. I grab her shoulders, whirl her around to face me, and kiss the shit out of her. “I’m not Garrett Bennetting you, Kat,” I mumble into her lips. “I promise.”
Forty-Five
Kat
My kiss with Josh has ramped up to full-throttle-I-wanna-fuck-your-brains-out within seconds. Josh breaks away from me, his blue eyes darkening with heat, slams my body roughly into the wall, yanks my mini-skirt up, and pulls my panties down.
I throw my head back, shaking with my arousal, and it bangs sharply against the wall of the hallway. But even the pain of whacking my head feels fucking awesome right now. I’m absolutely hyperventilating with anticipation. “Josh,” I breathe, shoving my hand into his open pants and grasping his erection. “I’m sorry. I’m batshit crazy.”
“You really are.”
I laugh.
“I’m not like him, Kat,” he breathes. “I’d never do that to you.”
“I know. I don’t know why I’m so crazy,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay—apparently, I get off on crazy.”
He shoves his hand into his pocket frantically but comes up with nothing but the key card to Jonas and Sarah’s suite. He tries his other pocket and again comes up with nothing. “Fuck,” he says. “I must have left the condom on the table in the suite.”
“We don’t need it,” I gasp, grasping his erection with authority. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. Just fuck me.” I’m writhing against the wall, crazed by my arousal.
Without another word, he slams me against the wall like he’s mugging me and plunges himself into me with shocking ferocity.
“You feel so fucking good,” he says, moving his hips exactly the way he did on the dance floor the other night.
I groan and shudder with pleasure and relief.
“I love feeling your pussy against my cock with nothing between us.” He bit
es my neck. “You’ve got a magic pussy, Kat.”
Oh, God, I love that he’s a dirty-talker.
After a few minutes of Josh’s deep thrusting and heated whispers into my ear, I make my patented just-burned-my-hand-on-the-stove sound and he growls his reply, his hips moving relentlessly.
“You’re always so wet for me. Oh shit. You’re so fucking wet.”
“I start dripping the minute you step within twenty feet of me,” I growl.
He lets out a long, low moan that’s so sexy, I convulse with excitement.
“I can’t get enough of you. I’ve never been addicted like this.”
My skin pricks all over with a sudden chill. “Oh, God,” I say. “Here it comes.” For an instant, I feel exactly like I’m gonna throw up. My insides are beginning to warp and twist. “Oh, shit.”
“Come on, baby.” He kisses my ear and gropes my breast. “Come on.”
“Oh shit!” I claw at his chest and pull at his hair and devour his lips as my body explodes with painful pleasure. Oh my God, I can’t get enough of this sensation. I can’t get enough of this man.
“You’re amazing,” he says, his voice gruff, his thrusts turning brutal. “You feel so good.”
I feel swept away. I can’t even remember where I am. It’s like Josh and I are flying, weightless, swirling together. I’m high on him. On his hard shaft moving in and out of me. On his scent, the taste of his voracious lips, the sound of his sensuous growls in my ear. He’s completely overwhelming me in every way.
Except, wait, I think I just heard something besides Josh’s growls in my ear.
“You feel so fucking good,” Josh says, his hips gyrating forcefully. “So wet. So tight. Oh, fuck.”
Hang on. Was that a little dinging noise? Almost like a bell?
Before my brain can answer that question with the phrase, “Yes, you dumbshit—that was the freakin’ elevator,” Henn’s strangled voice echoes into the hallway: “Oh my fuck. Gah!”
I freeze, instantly mortified at the sound of Henn’s horrified voice, but Josh doesn’t stop. To the contrary, he impales me with monster-truck force into the wall and lets out a strangled sound that quite plainly signals he’s in the midst of an extremely pleasurable orgasm.
I hold my breath and close my eyes, letting the dual sensations of Josh’s climax and my own wretched embarrassment about Henn stumbling upon us undulate simultaneously through me.
I hear the sound of the elevator doors closing followed by nothing but Josh panting in my ear. I open one eye and cautiously peek at Josh. He’s staring at me, his face beaded with sweat, his eyes smoldering. I glance over his shoulder toward the elevator, my heart racing, my clit rippling with an aftershock. The elevator doors are closed. Josh and I are alone in the hallway. Henn’s nowhere to be found.
I look at Josh again, my cheeks blazing with a strange mixture of embarrassment and arousal, my heart racing. We stare at each other for a long, silent beat, our chests heaving in synchronicity. After a moment, one side of Josh’s mouth hitches up, ever so slightly, into a smirk.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he says.
And that’s all it takes—we both burst into hysterical laughter.
Forty-Six
Kat
“I’d love to rinse off real quick,” I mumble, pulling up my G-string. “Jeez, Josh. That was a lot.”
He laughs. “Sorry, not sorry.” He pulls out his phone. “Lemme just text Henn and tell him we’ll be down in a few. I’m sure he came up here wanting to take your passport photo.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
Josh scoffs. “Eh, he’ll get over it.” He looks at his phone. “Oh, I’ve actually got a text from ol’ Henny. Imagine that.”
I wince. “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘Where the fuck are you guys? Text me where to find you.’” Josh snickers. “Well, I guess he got his answer, huh?”
Josh taps out a reply, laughing to himself as he does.
“What are you saying to him?”
“Just that we’ll be down in a few.”
“Oh, good. I was worried you were—”
“And, that I missed his text because you and I were busy taking ol’ one-eye to the optometrist.”
“You did not!”
He shows me his phone. He did. In those exact words.
“Josh!”
He laughs. “Hey, nothing smooths out an awkward situation better than humor. Trust me, I should know. I’ve been smoothing out awkward situations my whole fucking life.”
“Ugh. Josh.” I put my hands over my face.
“Kat, the man saw me fucking the shit out of you. I don’t think my text will come as a huge surprise.” When I don’t join Josh’s laughter, he nuzzles his nose into my ear. “Aw, don’t worry, babe. He’ll recover. Henn’s got a whopper of a crush on you, for sure, but he’s a big boy.” He moves my hair behind my shoulder and kisses my neck. “Maybe seeing us together will help Henn move past his little crush.” Josh’s phone pings in his hand and he looks at it. “Henn says, ‘Meet me in an hour. An eye exam should never be rushed.’” Josh laughs heartily. “See? What did I tell you? Little Henny’s already bounced back.”
“You’re not embarrassed Henn saw us screwing the crap out of each other?”
“Well, yeah, of course, I’m embarrassed. Fucking in front of Henn isn’t high on my list of things to do. But I’m not gonna lose any sleep over it. At least I was fucking an insanely gorgeous woman and not a goat. Well, not this time, anyway.”
“Ha, ha. Don’t make bestiality jokes, Josh—I still haven’t read your perverted application. Speaking of which, how have I still not read your perverted application?”
“Hey, I gave it to you. I’ve met my obligation. If you haven’t read it by now that’s on you.”
“How do you keep distracting me? Are you some sort of evil genius?”
“Yes, I am—the world’s dumbest evil genius.”
“I just realized something,” I say, having a genuine epiphany. “You’ve been diabolically controlling me this whole time, haven’t you? Controlling me while letting me think I’m controlling you.”
He shrugs. “I’m wise and powerful, babe; I warned you right from the start.” He shoots me a megawatt smile. “What’s the rush on reading that damned thing, anyway? You said you emailed it to yourself, right?—so now you can read it whenever.”
I smile. I can’t believe how relaxed and easygoing Josh has become about his application—what a turnaround since we first started sparring over it.
Josh looks at his watch. “Jonas and Sarah should be landing in D.C. in about an hour—Jonas said they’d be landing around seven Washington time. So let’s take a nice, long shower, let you rinse out your cooch and maybe scrub off some of that batshit-crazy you’ve got all over you—and then we’ll meet Henn for the photo thing. By then it’ll be time to touch base with Jonas and Sarah to see if they have any news about today’s meeting with the feds.” He pulls me to him close. “And then we’ll grab a few hours of sleep together in my room, just me and you.” He kisses my neck. “Sound good, my crazy little Party Girl with a Hyphen?”
I think my heart’s gonna burst right out of my chest. “That all sounds perfect, Playboy.”
Forty-Seven
Kat
Up ’til now, all of my naked interactions with Josh have been fast and furious. But now, in this steaming hot, post-hallway-fuckery shower, I’m finally getting the chance to slowly touch and appreciate every inch of Josh’s muscled, tattooed body. And appreciate it, I do. Holy hot damn. He’s gorgeous.
I squirt shower gel into my palm and eagerly run my hand over his “Grace” tattoo on his chest and then down the ruts and ridges of his abs and across his pelvis, skimming my palm between the “V” cuts in his waist and over the word “OVERCOME.”
And, glory be, as I touch Josh, he returns the favor, slowly exploring every curve and crevice of my wet body with his palms and fingertips.
“You’re beautiful,” Josh says softly in my ear, kissing my neck. “Gorgeous.”
My fingertips slide to the tattoo on the right side of his torso, behind his ribcage. Before now, I haven’t paid much attention to this one. But now that I’m studying it, I’m noticing it’s an intricate scene of a fish swimming in a river, shaded by an overhanging tree on a nearby riverbank.
“What’s the story on this one?” I ask, touching the fish with my fingertip.
He runs his hand across my right nipple and down my side, over the curve of my hip, and down my ass cheek. “I’ll give you my standard answer first,” he says softly, his lips grazing my ear. “And then, I’ll tell you the whole truth.”
“Okay,” I whisper, just before his lips find mine.
We kiss for a long time, letting the hot water pelt us as we do, our hands exploring each other as our lips and tongues intertwine.
Finally, Josh pulls away from my mouth and licks my jawline.
I shudder with pleasure. Oh, God, I can’t get enough of him. I’m absolutely intoxicated with him.
“Your tattoo?” I breathe.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” he says. He smiles and his eyes sparkle. “My standard answer is it’s a fish because I’m a Pisces,” he says, his hands skimming over my ass. “Which is true.”
“You’re a Pisces?” I say, pulling away from him in surprise.
“What? Is that bad?”
“Oh, no. It’s just... ” I trail off. There’s no way I’m gonna explain that Pisces is the astrological sign most compatible with Scorpio. “You just seem like such a classic Pisces, that’s all,” I say smoothly.
“Yeah? What are the characteristics of a classic Pisces?”
I think briefly. “Compassionate, adaptable, accepting, devoted, and imaginative.”
He puts his forehead on mine. “Wow, I rock.”
I laugh. “Don’t get too enamored with yourself. That was just the good Pisces stuff. You’re also indecisive, self-pitying, lazy, and escapist.”