Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Wealthy, arrogant playboy Josh Faraday finally has feisty, vivacious Kat Morgan in his bed. And in his shower. And in the bathroom of a bar. He knows her deepest sexual fantasies, and he’s intent on fulfilling them all. But Kat wants more than fun and games. She wants to know the real Josh. The man behind the mask. And that’s not something Josh is willing to show Kat—or any woman. But, damn, this stubborn, sexy, relentless woman is wearing him down . . . and he’s not sure he can resist her much longer.
For the stubborn, adventuresome, explosive Playboy and the Party Girl, it’s always a war of wills. Who will crack first? And when they do, will either of their hearts be on the line?
REVELATION is the second book of the JOSH AND KAT TRILOGY. The full trilogy is INFATUATION, REVELATION, CONSUMMATION, to be read in order.
*Readers 18+ due to graphic language and adult situations.
NOTE: Kat Morgan is the sister of the Morgan brothers (Colby, Ryan, Keane, and Dax from standalones HERO, CAPTAIN, BALL PEEN HAMMER, and ROCKSTAR), plus best friend Zander (MISTER BODYGUARD). Josh Faraday is the twin brother of Jonas Faraday from THE CLUB TRILOGY. You can jump right in and read Josh and Kat's trilogy, before or after The Morgan Brothers or The Club Trilogy
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
KAT
The door to Jonas and Sarah’s suite closes behind Josh’s back and I look down at Josh’s laptop, holding my breath with excitement. This is it. I can’t believe I’m finally gonna read Josh’s application to The Club, after all this build-up. My chest is tight. My stomach is in knots. What on earth did that man write that’s made him so skittish about revealing it to me? Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out:
Name?
“Joshua William Faraday,” he writes. Oh, I didn’t know Josh’s middle name is William. For some reason, seeing his full name makes my heart flutter.
With this application, you will be required to submit three separate forms of identification. The Club maintains a strict “No Aliases Policy” for admission. You may, however, use aliases during interactions with other Club members, at your discretion.
“OK,” he writes.
Age?
“29,” he writes.
I stop and think. Josh is thirty. I wonder when he had his birthday? I’d love to know his zodiac sign. Damn, it sure would suck donkey balls if it turned out we were cosmically incompatible.
Provide a brief physical description of yourself.
“I’m 6’1, 190 lbs. I’ve got brown hair and blue eyes and tattoos on my torso and arms. I prefer not to talk about the meanings of my tattoos at length, so please tell whoever gets assigned to me not to ask about them.
“I work pretty hard at keeping fit,” he continues. “I’m a big believer that a man only gets one chance at a first impression, so I try to make mine count, every time. Just to be clear: I’m not applying for membership to The Club because I have some sort of inferiority complex about my appearance (I don’t) or because I can’t attract women on my own (I can).”
I can’t help but smile. Even when Josh is being kind of douche-y, he’s sexy as hell to me.
With this application, you will be required to submit three recent photographs of yourself to your intake agent. Please include the following: one headshot, one full-body shot revealing your physique, and one shot wearing something you’d typically wear out in a public location. These photographs shall be maintained under the strictest confidentiality.
Oh, this I gotta see. I scroll down, assuming Josh’s photos will be attached to the end of his application, but they’re not there. I scan the top of the document, looking for some indication of where I can find his pictures—but, nope. There’s nothing. Goddammit! I grab my phone.
Josh answers my call immediately. “Wow, that was fast,” he says. “I’m only just now walking into the casino.”
“Where are your photos?”
“My photos?”
“Yeah, the three photos you submitted with your application.”
“Oh, my photos.” He pauses. “Why do you want them? You already know exactly what I look like.”
“I just want to see them.”
“But you’ve already seen every inch of me—you’ve seen my YOLO’d ass, for Chrissakes.” He snickers. “Not to mention my balls.”
I join him in snickering. “Up close and personal.”
He snickers again.
“But I still wanna see your photos.”
He sighs. “How ’bout this? I’ll come back up there and let you take three photos of me any which way you want. We’ll have a photo shoot, just you and me, baby.”
“Ooh, sounds fun—I’ll definitely take a rain check on that offer. But I still wanna see the photos.”
He grumbles. “But why?”
“Because I wanna see what photos you thought would best represent yourself to perverts in a sex club.”
There’s a long pause. “You’re such a fucking pain in the ass, you know that? A terrorist and a colossal pain in the ass.”
“I told you—I’m a Scorpio. We’re extremely focused and we also have a disproportionate sense of entitlement. Plus, I gave you my three photos—a deal’s a deal.”
He laughs. “Oh my God, those photos, Kat.”
“You liked them?”
“I loved them. The one of you in your undies was so hot—and then I practically pissed myself laughing at the one of you pretending to barf over the toilet. You’re so funny.”
“Thank you. You’re pretty funny yourself—but funny ain’t gonna get you off the hook, dude. Those photos are part of your application, which means they’re part of your promise.”
He grunts. “Fine. Are you familiar with Macs?”
“Yeah, I’ve got one—from your brother, actually.”
“My brother gave you a Mac?”
“Yeah. To replace the one The Club stole from me.”
“That was awfully nice of him—I didn’t know Jonas knew how to be nice.”
“Yeah. He’s been super nice to me. Okay, quit stalling. Where are the photos?”
He groans. “Fine. Go to ‘Finder’ and click on ‘Pictures’ on the left side of the screen.”
“Yep. Okay.”
“And now do you see the folder...” Josh says, but I don’t hear the rest of his sentence because something has caught my attention on Josh’s laptop screen: a folder labeled “Sick Fuck.” Well, jeez, with a name like that, the folder might as well be named “Open me, Kat!”