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)
“Do you see it?” Josh says.
“Mmm hmm,” I say, clicking on the “Sick Fuck” folder.
Oh my God. I’m looking at a bunch of photos of naked women—lots and lots of naked women—all of them blonde, all of them gorgeous, and all of them striking poses like porn stars.
“Kat? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I say, scrolling through the photos. There’s probably close to twenty different women here. “Josh, who are all the blondes?”
“What?” he asks, his voice suddenly tight.
“The porn stars in the folder labeled ‘Sick Fuck’?”
“Jesus Fucking Christ! Get out of there, Kat! That’s personal!”
“Who are they?”
“I didn’t give you permission to look through my private stuff. Get the fuck out of there right now. Jesus!”
“Oh, waah, waah. So you like porn—you’re such a pervert.” I laugh, but he doesn’t join me. “Come on. Just tell me who they are. It’s no big whoop.”
“This is a total breach of trust. Absolutely inexcusable.”
I ignore his outrage. It’s an extremely effective tactic I’ve learned from observing my brothers over the years: remain calm in the face of indignation and then deny, deny, deny any and all wrongdoing until the person angry with you simply forgets what they’re mad about.
“Are these photos off the Internet, or are they women you actually know?” I ask calmly.
There’s a long silence. “This is total bullshit,” he grumbles, but it’s clear his outrage is already beginning to soften. “I want to lodge a formal complaint,” he says.
I laugh. “With whom?”
“With... the Common Decency Police.”
“Okay. Duly noted. Complaint lodged.”
“Because you suck.”
“Yes, I do, actually, as we both know very well. And if you ever want me to do it again, then answer my question.”
Out of nowhere, his fury roars back to life. “Oh, fuck no,” he bellows. “Let me set you straight about something right here and now: I do not tolerate any form of sexual extortion in a relationship. That’s an absolute deal-breaker with me. You wanna suck my dick? Great; then suck it. You don’t wanna suck it? Then don’t. But don’t use sex as a weapon to manipulate me. I fucking hate that.”
My heart lurches into my throat—and not because Josh is chastising me—I don’t care about that—but because Josh just said he doesn’t tolerate any form of sexual extortion in a relationship. Are Josh and I in a relationship?
“Jeez,” I manage to say. “Overreact much?”
“I’m not overreacting,” Josh replies. “I absolutely hate that shit.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez-us. I’m sorry. I’ll never again say, ‘If you want me to suck your dick, then fill-in-the-blank.’ Happy?”
“Yes. Thank you. I hate that shit.”
“Fine. Got it. But I must say I find your whole speech awfully ironic considering I used sexual extortion to get you to give me your application in the first place.”
He pauses. “Hey, wait a minute—you did, didn’t you? Well, that was kinda shitty of you.”
“Hey, whatever works.”
There’s a long beat during which I’m smiling from ear to ear.
“So,” I say. “You still haven’t answered my question, Playboy: Who are all the blonde playmates?”
He makes a sound of frustration. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“No chance. I’m a Scorpio. We hold grudges. So who are they?”
“You don’t have permission to be snooping around in that folder, Kat. Click out.”
I don’t reply to him—I’m too busy looking through the folder.
“Hello? Madame Terrorist? Did you hear me? Exit the folder. You’re trespassing.”
“Yeah, I heard you. And I would totally follow your instruction, I really would—but the thing is, I’m having somewhat of a conundrum.”
“And what is that?”
“It’s kind of like a dilemma.”
“Have I done something to give you the impression I’ve got the vocabulary of a sixth-grader? I know what a conundrum is—I’m asking what is your conundrum, specifically?”
I seriously can’t wipe the smile off my face. “Well, on the one hand,” I say, “I really want to respect your request. I really, really do, because I’m actually a fairly nice person, despite the way I tend to behave around you, and also because I think you’re probably right: it was very, very naughty of me to go through your personal stuff without permission.”
“Thank you. And on the other hand?”
“Well, on the other hand, I really, really like being naughty.”
Josh makes a sexy sound. “Oh. Well, that is quite a conundrum. What on earth are you gonna do about it?”
“I dunno—I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll just look through your pervy blonde-porn-star folder while I figure it out.” I scroll through the photos again, my smile hurting my cheeks. “These women all look the same, Josh,” I say, still going through the photos. “Looks like you’ve got a type, huh?”
He audibly shrugs. “I like what I like.”
“Who are they?”
He pauses briefly and then exhales. “They’re just women I’ve met.”
“Met? I’m guessing you’ve done more than meet these girls.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Have you slept with all of these women?”