Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Ainsley shakes her head again.
“Goodness,” she murmurs. “I had no idea.”
I pull her curvy form closer.
“War fucking sucks. The life of a soldier isn’t for everyone, but enough depressing shit. What about you, sweetheart? What brings you to Vegas?”
She blinks a little, trying to adjust to the change in conversation. But then a small smile crosses her lips.
“Well, I’m here to further my career as a plus-size model,” she says. “I started out in Ireland, but there isn’t much of an industry there. And Paris, Milan and New York are for straight size girls. The plus-size industry is here, in the City of Sin, so I flew in to see what could happen.”
I nod.
“And how’s it going?”
She sighs a bit, pushing some fruit around on a plate.
“It’s going,” she acknowledges. “Of course, I’ve been rejected far more than I’d like. But you were at the La Bianca show, so I’ve been cast here and there. And of course, I met Justin West,” she mutters, looking down. “He’s been helpful.”
I nod thoughtfully.
“So what’s the story with him?”
“Well, he’s not my boyfriend,” Ainsley says immediately, shooting me a swift look. “I know it looks like it on the outside, but Justin’s never actually touched me. We don’t have sex,” she states. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed.”
I chuckle, gently palming a big breast.
“Yeah, I gathered that,” I say in a dry tone. “I’m the one who popped your cherry, sweetheart. It’s obvious that he’s not enough of a man to do the honors.”
Ainsley bites her lip while looking down.
“Yeah, I know,” she says in a soft voice. “At first, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I mean, don’t most men make love to their girlfriends?”
“Sweetheart, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” I state in a low growl, lifting her small chin to stare into her eyes. “You are one hundred percent desirable, very female, and utterly lush and wet. No man can resist you.”
Ainsley colors and nods again before smiling.
“Thanks Karl,” she murmurs. “I appreciate the reassurance. But I did go through a whole confused phase when I realized Justin wasn’t into sex. I wasn’t upset. I just couldn’t figure it out, and even went to see a therapist to talk it through. But the funny thing is that eventually, I came around. My feelings weren’t hurt by his lack of desire, nor was I offended by his choice either. Heck, I realized that I didn’t want to sleep with him.”
“Okay,” I nod. “So why are you fake dating a fake boyfriend?”
Ainsley shoots me a sassy grin.
“Well, this is a little Machiavellian, but I realized that I could further my career if I posed as Justin West’s girlfriend. He is a famous rapper,” she says. “He knows a lot of people in the fashion and entertainment industries, and I get a lot of press just from accompanying him to events. So you see, my brother doesn’t have to worry,” she says with a playful smile. “Justin doesn’t even touch me! I’m safe!”
I nod.
“Yeah, but I don’t think your brother’s worried about what you do between the sheets,” I say in a careful tone. “I think Patrick’s more worried about how Justin behaves. Your fake boyfriend seems—”
“Controlling?” Ainsley finishes for me, one delicate brow arched.
“You said it,” I growl deep in my chest. “He makes you show up at public events stark naked. What the fuck? Who does that?”
“I know,” Ainsley acknowledges, pausing temporarily to pop a strawberry into her mouth. I’m temporarily mesmerized, watching her chew the red fruit, her lips so plush and glossy. “But Justin genuinely is a PR genius, and he knows how to manipulate the media. You know his brand, Prowler, did over a billion dollars of business last year with Adirite. So he’s experienced, and knows how to get eyes on his product.”
“Yeah, but it looks like you’re his product, sweetheart,” I say in a dry tone. “Except you’re not a pair of kicks, or a sweatshirt, or hoodie, or any type of shoe. You’re a woman, and your brother had a bad feeling, seeing you on Justin’s arm. You looked like a doll, sweetheart,” I add in a low voice. “A beautiful one, but also one whose personality had been drained. You were seriously beginning to resemble a drugged-out robot, and Patrick is worried.”
“I know,” Ainsley says in a soft voice, looking down. “I didn’t want to wear those dresses either. Trust me, I don’t like showing off my tits and ass to everyone in the world and their mother. It was downright embarrassing, and I guess the blank stare was my way of disassociating. I was pretending I wasn’t there, and that it was happening to another girl.”
“What the fuck?” I growl. “What the fuckity fuck? That fucker is manipulating you. I’m going to kick his ass.”