Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Kat turns her demonic eyes on me, full-force. “Oh, so your name is Josh, is it? Did I hear that right? Or did she call you Jess?”
I don’t reply. Well, not with my vocal chords. My dick certainly seems to be replying, loud and clear. Yeah, my dick’s always had a thing for crazy, it’s true—not to mention a perfect pair of tits. Not to mention two perfect pairs of tits, all of them glistening wet and covered in barely-there see-through bras.
Kat stares Jen down, smiling the whole time. “You know what, Jen? I think you just saved me from doing something really dumb.” She’s spitting nails through that beauty-queen smile of hers. “This guy here—Josh or Jess, whatever his name is—won’t stop talking about some woman he banged in New York last week.”
Jen’s face lights up. What the fuck is Kat doing to me right now? Is she clinically insane?
“Yeah, he keeps going on and on about how this New York girl was a horrible fuck, that the whole thing was totally meaningless to him, how he was so fucking shitfaced drunk he doesn’t even remember it—’oh, it was such a huge mistake, blah, blah, blah—she was such a fucking airhead’—I mean, how chicken-shit is that? Why the hell did he bang that poor girl if she was such a horror show? What a fucking douche.”
Jen’s brief elation from a moment ago is long gone. Now she looks like she was just whacked across the face with a two-by-four.
This is one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. Jen looks like she’s gonna cry—which makes me feel like the biggest prick on the planet—and Kat, the demon-queen herself, is glaring at me like she’s readying her blowtorch, a Hershey bar, some graham crackers, and a very sharp knife.
“And here I was stupidly about to give the guy more of the same,” Kat continues, on a roll. “Just some meaningless, shitfaced sex he won’t even remember tomorrow. Ha! Well, fuck that shit.”
Without warning, Kat heaves herself out of the pool and glowers at Jen from the ledge, her incredible body dripping wet and on full, glorious display.
“He’s all yours, Jen. Maybe you’ll have more luck than the poor girl he burned through in New York last week—whoever the hell she was.” She flashes me a rage-filled smile. “Bye-bye, Jess. Or Josh. Whatever your name is. Have fun in Vegas, asshole—when in Rome.” With that, she struts over to the nearby lounge chair, grabs her sparkling dress, and waltzes toward the open French doors leading back into the suite.
A man has never leaped out of a swimming pool so fucking fast in his entire life.
“Kat,” I yell after her. “Wait.”
But she doesn’t wait. Hell no, she doesn’t, because she’s a goddamned terrorist.
She marches straight through the French doors, into the suite, and toward the front doors, her incredible ass-cheeks shuddering with each ground-quaking march of her long, toned legs. On her way to the front door, she makes a pit stop at C-Bomb sitting on the couch. She bends over and whispers something to him, her tits falling out of her bra and into his face as she does. I’m just about to leap across the room and tackle him when he nods and hands her his drink—which looks to be straight whiskey or Scotch. She throws the whole drink back in one fluid motion and hands the empty glass back to him. “Thanks, son, I owe you one,” she says, patting him on the head.
“Any time,” he says, smirking and looking right at her chest.
“Kat,” I say, my blood pounding in my ears.
She completely ignores me. She puffs out her fucking incredible chest and marches haughtily toward the front door of the suite, her ass-cheeks bouncing with each determined stomp.
Jesus Christ. This woman is gonna be the death of me.
“Kat, wait,” I say, running to catch up to her. But she ignores me again. Jesus, the girl’s having a bona fide tantrum—but she’s so fucking hot while she’s doing it, I truly don’t mind.
“Kat, what the fuck are you doing?” I call to her.
She swings open the heavy front door of the suite and marches right through it, toward the private elevator at the end of a long hallway, her sequined dress in her hand, her wet body glistening under the hallway lights.
“Kat,” I say, making my way through the doors. She’s halfway down the hall. “Wait. I’m coming with you and I can’t go down there in my fucking underwear.”
She stops on a dime.
Oh, that’s what made her finally stop? Another peek at my nearly naked body? Well, good to know.
She whips around to look at me, and, instantly, her gaze falls right on my dick. My very, very hard dick.
Her mouth drops open. “Wow,” she says, her eyes not wavering from my crotch.