The Josh and Kat Trilogy: A Bundle of Books 1-3

by Lauren Rowe

  “Not Josh,” Bridgette interrupts. “Yes, yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. I’m a hooker, you’re my client, and Josh is your client—you’ve already told me all that. Trust me, I have no desire to touch that asshole ever again. I’m here for no other reason than I want to fuck you, plain and simple—so let that kinky bastard in so I can finally get my hands on you.”

  “Before I let him in the room, I’m gonna talk to him at the door for a minute, just me and him.”

  Bridgette looks at me suspiciously.

  “We’re not gonna ditch you, I promise.”

  “I’ll give you five minutes, and if you don’t come back into the room by then, I’m outta here.”

  I open the door and quickly slip my body in front of it, keeping it open just a tad with my backside.

  Josh’s eyes instantly blaze at the sight of me. “Please answer the door dressed like this every fucking time.” He sweeps me into his arms and devours me with a passionate kiss. “Oh God, I’ve missed you. I was such a prick to you this week—forgive me.” He takes my face in his palms and kisses me again. “I felt like I was dying without you all week long.”

  Oh God, I wanna tell him I love him. I’m aching to say the words, physically aching. “I’ve been in pain without you,” I mumble into his lips, my heart racing.

  “I can’t live without you, baby,” he replies, kissing me furiously. “I...” He pauses and every hair on my body stands on end. “I...”

  I hold my breath. This is it. I can feel it.

  “I can’t live without you,” he finally says.

  Oh, well, not what I was hoping for, but I can’t complain. I run my hands through his hair and kiss him passionately, pushing my pelvis into his hard-on.

  Josh breaks away from kissing me and cranes his neck, obviously trying to look through the small gap in the door. “Why are we standing at the door?” he asks.

  Oh yeah. Bridgette. When all the blood in my brain whooshed into my crotch, I instantly forgot all about the supermodel on the other side of the door.

  “We’re standing at the door because I have a surprise for you,” I reply.

  Josh cranes his neck to look past me again, but the crack in the door is too narrow for him to see inside. “I got your note,” he breathes, his voice brimming with excitement. “You said you’re gonna be my window tonight?” Josh looks like he’s literally holding his breath.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m your window—and I’ve invited someone quite lovely to be our window dressing.”

  Josh’s eyes blaze.

  Oh, wow. The look of arousal on his face is making my clit zing.

  “Tonight’s all about you, babe,” I purr, pulling away from him and stroking the hard bulge in his pants. “You’ve delivered all my fantasies to me, one after another on a silver platter, and now it’s time for me to return the favor.” Josh’s erection jolts under the fabric of his pants. “Tonight, I’m gonna give you what turns you on the most, baby—no holds barred.”

  “You’re what turns me on the most,” he says softly, kissing my neck.

  Damn, he’s good. “Well, then,” I say, “I’m gonna give you what turns you on the second most.” I press the entire length of my body against his. “I wanna do it this time, babe—I really do. This isn’t reverse psychology, I promise. All I wanna do is turn you on and let your sick fuck run amok.”

  Josh eyes me, obviously not completely convinced of my sincerity.

  “I’m serious, babe. I want you to enjoy this without reservation—and so will I. Whatever gets you off, whatever it is, you can always tell me and show me and do it to me or with me, and I promise I’ll never ride off on a polo pony with a guy wearing an ascot.”

  The look on Josh’s face is priceless. I can’t imagine he’d look any more touched if I’d just said, “I love you.”

  “As long as you don’t touch her—same as before,” I caution. “That’s the only rule.”

  Josh nods, his eyes smoldering.

  “So is that a yes? Are you in, my beautiful sick fuck?” I ask.

  Josh nods. “I’m in.”

  “Excellent.” I grab Josh’s hand and begin pulling him through the door.

  “Wait a sec,” he says, dropping my hand.

  I stop and stare at him, but he doesn’t speak further. “What?” I finally ask.

  “I... ” he begins.

  Oh my God, my Scooby Doo senses tell me he’s about to tell me he loves me. It’s on the tip of his luscious tongue—I know it. I can practically hear the words rattling around in his head like gumballs in a chute.

  “What?” I whisper fiercely. “Whatever it is, just say it.” I pinch the width of Josh’s face between my fingers and thumb and squeeze, making his lips pucker like he’s a blowfish. “Say it,” I say, squeezing Josh’s cheeks, trying to physically coax the words out of him.

  Josh bats my hand away, chuckling. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  But I’m not laughing. I feel like a woman possessed. “Say it,” I coax. “Please, Josh.”

  Josh’s eyes drift to the gap in the door. “Now’s not the time for chitchat.” He kisses me, pressing his hard bulge into me again. “I can’t think straight right now, babe—you’ve got me too wound up, talking about windows and shit.” He grins. “All I wanna do is fuck my beautiful window and make her come.”

  “Well, who doesn’t?” I say. “The line forms behind the hot blonde inside the suite.”

  Josh’s eyes flicker. “Is she a hooker?”

  I bite my lower lip. “It’s Bridgette again.”

  “What? Bridgette? Fuck, Kat. No.”

  “Yeah, she graciously flew up to Seattle to fuck me for your viewing pleasure.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Come on, Kat.”

  I shrug.

  “Kat, not Bridgette.” Josh takes a step back. “How the fuck did you even convince her to—”

  “I paid her.”

  “What?”

  “A shitload of money, too. But it’s okay because I’m a mill-i-on-aire, so I can afford it—money well spent.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No.”

  “Bridgette?” He scowls. “Kat, she’s not human. She’s got no heart.”

  “Which makes her perfect for the job of being our window dressing. I’m not gonna bring some wonderful woman with a heart of gold into our bed who’s gonna make you fall head over heels in love with her.”

  Josh rolls his eyes in complete exasperation. “There’s no danger of me falling in love with anyone else, Kat.” He opens and closes his mouth in rapid succession, apparently contemplating saying more, but nothing comes out.

  Oh my effing God. Because I’m in love with you. That’s what Josh was about to say—there’s no doubt in my mind. Come on, Josh, I think. Just say it.

  But Josh remains mute.

  I exhale, resigned. I’m obviously gonna need a lot of lube to extract those damned words from Josh’s vocal cords—lube in the form of a certain lesbo-fantasy. “So you wanna watch me get it on with Bridgette or not?” I ask. “Should I ask the poor girl to leave?”

  “You sure about this?” Josh asks.

  “I’m positive. YOLO.” I wink.

  Josh grins. “You’re seriously the perfect woman.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I look at my watch. “Well, if we’re gonna do this, then we’d better get in there. Bridgette said if we don’t come back within five minutes, she’s leaving and it’s already been six minutes.”

  “You’re not actually trying to manipulate me into ‘absconding’ with you, are you?”

  “No, I told you—I’m being sincere. I want you to let your inner sick fuck out—no holds barred.”

  “And you’re feeling up to it?” He gently touches my stomach, making my entire body twitch with excitement.

  “Yeah. I’m feeling much better these days. Still sick now and again, but a lot better.”

  “And it’s safe?”

  I nod. “The doc
tor said sex is just fine.” I press myself into him. “So, it’s decision time. Are you in or out, Playboy?”

  Josh touches the indentation in my chin with his fingertip and then licks it with a sensuous flicker of his tongue. “I’m all-in, Party Girl. Let’s do it.”

  One Hundred One

  Josh

  “Here you go,” Bridgette says, handing me a glass filled with tequila and an opened bottle of Patron.

  “Thanks,” I say. I put the bottle on a little table next to me, lean back in my armchair, and shift my dick in my pants, my eyes fixed on Kat. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed in her bra and panties, her body visibly trembling, her skin covered in goose bumps.

  “Can I put some music on?” Bridgette asks.

  I nod and Bridgette leaves the room, striding away confidently on her impossibly long legs.

  Kat and I stare at each other, both our chests heaving.

  Have Kat’s tits always been this perfect? And that belly ring of hers—damn, it slays me. The way her blonde hair falls around her shoulders... I can’t get enough of her. I swig the tequila in my glass and shift my dick in my pants again.

  “Sugar” by Maroon Five begins blaring—not at all what I would have picked—this song’s the musical equivalent of a fucking chick flick. But Kat’s exuberant face makes it clear she’s thrilled with the song choice and that’s good enough for me.

  Bridgette re-enters the room, shaking her ass to the song.

  “I love this song,” Kat says.

  Bridgette joins Kat on the end of the bed. “Me, too, pussycat.” She places her hand on Kat’s knee and Kat jolts at Bridgette’s touch.

  My cock twitches at the sight of them sitting together, both of them barely clothed. Oh shit. This is really happening. I’ve done this multiple times, of course, but never like this. Never with a woman I love—wait, no—not a woman I love—the woman I love—the only one. Oh my God, it’s true. Kat’s the only woman I’ve ever truly loved, heart and soul—and, holy fuck, she’s really doing this for me. Or so she says. God help me, if this is a test—if Kat’s actually hoping I’ll stop everything, the same way she expected me to stop her from kissing Henn in Vegas, the same way she expected me to whisk her away from Bridgette the last time. Because, if so, she’s gonna be sorely disappointed—I’m not stopping shit this time around.

  I take another swig of my drink.

  Bridgette runs her hand up and down Kat’s arm. “Relax,” she coos. “Ssh, pussycat—just relax.” She strokes the full length of Kat’s thigh. “Take a deep breath.”

  I smirk. This is so fucking awesome.

  Kat takes a deep breath and her breasts visibly strain in her pink pushup bra.

  Oh my God, I feel like my dick’s gonna explode, this is so fucking hot. Is this normal? Shouldn’t I be sweeping Kat into my arms and making love to her, showing her my new tattoo and saying the magic words? Because that’s exactly what I’m gonna do—I swear to God—right after this.

  Bridgette leans in and whispers something into Kat’s ear, and Kat nods and whispers something back.

  “Could you ladies speak up, please?” I say.

  Both women turn their heads and look at me.

  “I’d like to hear what you say to each other,” I say. “Please.”

  Kat’s blue eyes are trained on me like lasers. “Your wish is my command,” she says, one side of her mouth hitching up. “Bridgette said she had a sex dream about me the night we first met.”

  “I did,” Bridgette says. “It made me come in my sleep.”

  My cock jolts.

  “And what I said to Bridgette in reply was, ‘That makes me so wet, honey—my clit is throbbing.’”

  My chest constricts. Jesus Christ. I gulp down the rest of my tequila and put the glass down on the table.

  “Enough talking, pussycat,” Bridgette says. She leans in slowly and lays a soft, closed-mouth kiss on Kat’s lips.

  “Hang on,” Kat says softly. She turns her head and gazes at me, clearly asking for permission to continue.

  I nod. Fuck yeah, I do.

  Kat’s eyes darken and burn. She turns her face toward Bridgette again. “I’m ready, baby.”

  I can barely breathe.

  Bridgette cups Kat’s face in her hands, leans in, and kisses her lips gently, and, much to my shock, Kat leans into Bridgette, slides her palm onto Bridgette’s smooth cheek, cupping her jawline, and shoots her glistening tongue straight into Bridgette’s gorgeous mouth.

  Oh my fuck.

  I quickly unzip the front of my pants and pull down my briefs, freeing my hard-on from its bondage, breathing like I’m on a fucking treadmill. Oh my fuck. Well, it’s official. Emma was right—I really am a sick fuck. I’m supposed to be at my new house right now, telling Kat I love her for the first time to the dulcet sounds of fucking Mozart, but instead, I’m watching the woman I love play tonsil-hockey with an almost-nude bisexual supermodel, my hand stroking my hard dick. Am I really this depraved? Well, apparently so, because I’m finding this hot as fuck.

  The two women are kissing passionately now—and, from Kat’s body language, it’s clear to me she’s not pretending to be turned on. Holy fuck, she’s genuinely on fire. She’s so fucking sexy, it’s like she’s another species of woman altogether. I’ve never seen anything like her, paid or otherwise.

  I grasp my shaft and work myself with more urgency. Every little arch of Kat’s back, every shudder of her tight little body, every soft lapping noise of her tongue and lips is making my cock jolt and throb in my hand. Oh, fuck, I love this woman. I thought I knew what love was with Emma, but I was an idiot. This is love. Right here. This. There’s no one else like Kat Morgan in the world. She’s perfect.

  Kat reaches behind Bridgette’s back and unclasps her bra, and Bridgette’s bountiful breasts bounce free. Bridgette quickly finishes the job and tosses her bra off and then returns the favor, unclasping Kat’s bra and practically ripping it off her body.

  Both women are topless now. Their nipples are erect, straining toward the other’s. They’re moaning softly, breathing hard—both of them obviously turned-on.

  And so am I. Oh my fuck, so am I.

  Bridgette stands and pulls off her undies, revealing her fully waxed pussy underneath, and even from here, I can see goose bumps rise up on Kat’s skin at the sight of her naked body.

  Bridgette pulls Kat to standing, whispering something into her ear again. Motherfucker, I wanna tell Bridgette to speak the fuck up, but I couldn’t talk right now if the hotel were burning down around us.

  The women are standing nose to nose. Breast to breast. Nipple to nipple. Bridgette leans forward and her nipples brush gently against Kat’s.

  An involuntary groan escapes me. Oh, shit.

  Bridgette kneels and begins pulling Kat’s G-string down slowly—kissing her hipbone as she does it.

  My cock lurches. I can’t breathe. I feel dizzy.

  As Kat’s panties reach her knees, she turns her head and looks straight at me, her eyes drunk with arousal, her chest rising and falling visibly. Her eyes drift down to my hand pumping up and down my hard shaft, and then back up to my face. She licks her lips. “Yes?” she asks, her breathing ragged.

  I nod, incapable of speaking.

  Bridgette lays a kiss on the inside of Kat’s thigh, drawing Kat’s attention away from me. She reaches between her legs and runs her fingers over the top of Bridgette’s blonde head, and then rakes her fingers passionately through Bridgette’s thick, shiny hair.

  Bridgette lets out a low moan of excitement and Kat replies with a moan of her own.

  Holy fuck, I’m gonna blow.

  Kat’s undies are completely off. She’s nude with a head of long, blonde hair bobbing and moving between her legs—a blonde head attached to perfect fucking tits and an un-fucking-believable ass and perfectly curved hips and toned thighs, and oh my fucking God I’m about to fucking blow.

  Bridgette’s lips trail up from Kat’s thigh toward her pussy.
She’s an inch away from the money and obviously going in for the kill.

  “Wait,” I choke out, shocking myself. “Stop.”

  Both women freeze and look at me. They’re panting, heaving, trembling with arousal—and so am I.

  “Don’t touch her pussy,” I say. “Her pussy’s all mine.”

  Bridgette looks up at Kat, incredulous, but Kat’s looking at me, her mouth hanging open in shock.

  “Kat’s pussy’s all mine,” I murmur, gaining my equilibrium. “She’s got a magic pussy and it’s all mine.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Bridgette bellows, clearly on the verge of losing her shit.

  “Ssh.” Kat puts her slender hand on Bridgette’s head, signaling her to stay put and cool her jets. Kat begins stroking Bridgette’s hair like she’s a kitten. “My pussy’s all yours, baby,” Kat coos to me, still stroking Bridgette’s hair. “But just this once Bridgette’s gonna lick my pussy and make me come really, really hard, solely for your pleasure.” Her eyes flicker. “She’s our Mickey Mouse roller coaster, babe—just this once. And then never again.”

  Kat brushes her fingertips against her own erect nipples and bites her lower lip and it’s suddenly crystal clear to me Kat’s not doing this for me at all. Maybe it started out that way for her—in fact, I’m sure it did—but now, in an unexpected turn of events, doing this is getting Kat off more than she ever expected. I thought I’d caught a tiger tonight, but I’m suddenly realizing I’m the asshole gripping the tiger by its fucking tail. And for some reason, this realization turns me the fuck on.

  I nod slowly, my pulse pounding in my ears.

  Kat smiles devilishly and looks down at Bridgette kneeling on the floor. “Eat me like you’re a world class whore who charges a million bucks a night and your only job is to give me my money’s worth. Can you do that for me?”

  Bridgette shoots me a steely look that quite clearly says, “Fuck you, asshole,” and then she leans with exaggerated flourish into Kat’s waxed pussy and begins lapping at her clit with outrageously enthusiastic swirls of her glistening tongue.

  At the touch of Bridgette’s effusive tongue, Kat throws her head back, grips Bridgette’s hair, and releases a guttural growl.