Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“You didn’t write about it in your application?”
“Nope. I’ve never told a single soul about this particular fantasy—didn’t even know I had it until recently. But today, for the first and only time, I wanna do it with you, Party Girl.” A huge smile spreads across his face. “My love.”
Thirty-Five
Kat
“Oh, that was good—the artichoke was hangry as hell,” I say, putting my napkin onto the table and patting my belly. I’ve just devoured a huge spread of food Josh had waiting for us in our hotel suite, and I’m feeling fine as wine and ready to role-play.
“So you’re feeling good now?” Josh asks.
“Yup. I’m feeling great. Heidi Kumquat reporting for duty, sir, any which way you please. So what’s your pleasure, sir? Whips? Chains? Donkeys?”
Josh shoots me a sly smile. “You’ll see. The outfit I want you to wear for me is laid out on the bed in there.” He indicates the master bedroom of the suite.
“Oh,” I say, raising my eyebrow. “French maid costume, maybe? Latex? Rabbit suit? Damsel in distress?”
“You’ll see soon enough. I packed your makeup and toiletries, by the way—they’re in the bathroom.” He stands, his eyes blazing. “Meet me back out here in forty-five minutes. I’ll get dressed in the other bedroom.”
“Oh. We’re doing his and hers costumes, huh?” I say. “What on earth have you been fantasizing about on the sly, you naughty Playboy?”
“No questions. Just do as your told. This is my fantasy—not yours—you’re just my plaything today.”
“Oooh, I like the sound of that. But, seriously, babe. I want to be sure you get your fantasy, whatever it is. What if I don’t know what to do?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” He pulls me to him and plants a kiss on my lips that’s so passionate, I’m certain he’s about to bend me over the table and fuck me senseless right here and now. But, nope, he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls away and slaps my ass. “Now get showered and dressed, Party Girl. You’ve got exactly forty-five minutes—don’t keep me waiting.”
“Yes, sir,” I say.
I head into the bedroom, as directed, and gasp when I see what Josh has laid out for me to wear: a formal red gown, red lace bra and undies, black strappy heels, and a small clutch covered in sparkling Swarovski crystals. I look at the label on the gorgeous dress. Carolina Herrera. Oh my God. I can’t even imagine how much this beautiful creation must have cost. Quickly, I throw off my clothes and slip the gown on, even before showering, just to make sure it fits—and, man, oh man, does it ever—like a glove, baby bump and all.
“Wow,” I say out loud, staring at myself in the mirror. “Hello, Pretty Woman.”
It’s actually astonishing how much this dress looks like a modern update of the iconic red dress Julia Roberts wore in that movie. Of course, Josh wouldn’t know that since he’s the only human in the Western Hemisphere who’s never seen Pretty Woman, but, truly, this gown is a dead ringer for that famous dress. I giggle to myself. This is such classic Josh Faraday—even without knowing it, he’s managed to fulfill one of my top fantasies.
I slip out of the dress and hop into the shower, singing “Pretty Woman” at the top of my lungs—and just over an hour later (oops, I’m little late), I emerge from the master bedroom wearing my beautiful Julia-dress and gorgeous, strappy heels.
Josh is sitting across the room, looking down at his phone, dressed to perfection in a classic, tailored tux. At the sound of my entrance into the room, he looks up from his phone and his handsome face bursts into immediate flames.
“Wow,” Josh says. He hops up and strides toward me. “Look at you. Wow.”
I twirl. “You like?”
“I love.” He kisses my cheek and I’m treated to the scent of his delicious cologne. “You’re absolutely stunning, Kat,” he adds.
“So are you,” I say. “You look amazing.”
Josh furrows his brow, apparently considering something. He blatantly looks me up and down. “Hmm.”
“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling insecure.
“Something’s missing.”
“Huh?” I look down at myself. “There was nothing else laid out on the bed,” I say.
Josh purses his lips. “Ah. I know. Hang on.”
He strides with great purpose across the room and grabs a flat velvet box off the bar—and the minute I see that damned box in Josh’s hand, I know exactly what’s up. Red gown. Tux. Flat velvet jewelry box. Holy Julia Roberts, Batman—Josh is re-enacting Pretty Woman!
I clamp my palm over my mouth. “Oh my God!” I gasp.
Josh holds up the velvet box, a huge smile on his face, but before he can say a word, I begin jumping up and down and shrieking like a monkey escaping from the zoo.
“Oh my God, I love this movie,” I shriek excitedly. I take a deep breath and shake out my arms. “You’re incredible-amazing-wow-I’m-so-excited-thank-you!”