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)
Dude, I need to think rationally, with my brain, and not my lady-parts.
I’m in lust, and nothing more. Well, that and very strong like. Very, very strong like. But once I get back to work and the routine of my real life, once the neon lights and excitement of our spy-caper-porno in Las Vegas have faded for both of us and reality sets in and we remember that Josh and I live not just in different states but in different worlds—because I’m not a supermodel and my mom isn’t a movie star with houses in the Hamptons and Aspen, for crying out loud—I’m sure my fairytale-delusions will crash down to reality without a parachute.
Indubitably.
18
KAT
When I enter my apartment, my youngest brother, Dax, is on the couch, playing his guitar and singing a song I’ve never heard before. When he sees me, he sets down his guitar and lopes over to me, his lean muscles taut in his tight-fitting T-shirt.
“Jizz,” he says warmly, wrapping me in a big hug. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
I kiss his cheek. “Hey, baby brother,” I say. “Thanks for keeping my apartment safe and sound.”
“It was hard work, but somebody had to do it. Was Vegas a blast?”
“Yeah, it was amazing.”
“How much money did you lose?”
“Oh, not too much,” I say coyly. “So, hey, was that a new song you were just playing?”
“Yeah, I was just fine-tuning it. It’s not done yet.”
“Play me what you’ve got.” I lead him to the couch and we sit.
“Naw, I’ll play it for you when I’ve got it finished.”
“I won’t criticize it. Just play me what you got.”
His face lights up. “Well, if you insist.”
I laugh. “I do.”
Dax picks up his guitar and plays an up-tempo song about looking for love in the anonymous faces he passes on a busy city street—and his expressive voice and vulnerable lyrics transport me with every word and note.
“Wistful, hopeful, funny, romantic, and lonely all at the same time,” I say when he’s done. “I absolutely love it.”
“Yeah, but you love everything I write.”
“True. But that doesn’t mean I’m not sincere.”
He grins. “So, hey, I got your mail for you.” He slides a stack of mail on the coffee table toward me.
“Oh, thanks. I never thought I’d be gone so long.” I start rifling through the stack. “Bills, bills, bills. Credit card offers. Coupons. Catalogs. Doesn’t look like I missed—” I look up. Oh. I’m talking to myself. Dax isn’t in the room. I look back down at the stack of mail and continue sorting it.
I hear a thudding noise in the center of the room and look up just in time to see Dax straightening up from putting down a heavy-looking box. “This bad boy got delivered a couple hours ago,” he says. “From someone named J.W. Faraday.”
My skin pricks with goose bumps. “Oh, okay, thanks,” I say, trying to sound casual—but, oh my God, the size of that box sure looks familiar. I pop up off the couch, intending to shoo Dax away, because, oh my God, if that box contains what I think it does, there’d better not be any markings on the outside to give it away.
“And, of course, I already opened the box for you, sis,” Dax continues, “just to be super-duper helpful.”
A weird screech of anxiety escapes my throat.
Dax chuckles. “Whoever this J.W. Faraday guy is, he’s awfully generous—and somewhat of a perv, too, it seems.”
“You opened it?” I blurt angrily.
“Of course, I did. I’d never make my sister open a big ol’ box all by herself with her own two fragile hands. I’m a gentleman.” He opens the already-cut flaps of the box with a wide smile and pulls out a humongous assortment of dildo-attachments, all packaged together in a clear plastic bag. “So many dicks to choose from, Jizz. I don’t know how you’ll decide.” He places the dildos on my coffee table with a wide smile.
“Oh my God,” I say, my cheeks burning. I can’t breathe. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life. But Dax isn’t done with me. He reaches inside the box, pulls out the main event, and places it carefully on the floor.
At the sight of my brand new Sybian, my face explodes with instant heat, both from excitement and embarrassment, but I force myself to remain calm. Dax might have no idea what a Sybian is, I tell myself—I’d certainly never heard of one before last week when Josh rented one for me.
“This is the first time I’m seeing a Sybian in person,” Dax says, standing over it with his hands on his hips.
I throw my hands over my face, completely mortified. I can’t believe my baby brother’s here to witness this gift from Josh. Nightmare.
“It’s really quite the feat of modern engineering,” he says.
I don’t reply.
Dax laughs. “So who the fuck is this guy, Jizz?”