“Hey, you’ve done a lot for me, too. By my count, we’re pretty even.”
“If you’re talking about all the amazing sex we’ve had, we’re not close to even—that was all formybenefit, I assure you.”
“Dude. I’m not paying you for sex—though sex with you is so damned good, I gladly would—especially since I know you have a raging call-girl fantasy and all.” He snickers. “But no, you big dummy, I’m talking about evening the score for everything you did in Las Vegas. We all owe you big, Oksana, especially me.”
“Especiallyyou? How’s that?”
“Because if something were to happen to Sarah, then Jonas would fall apart—which means my life would suck. So I need to guard Sarah like the crown jewels. Plus, on a personal note, I’d strongly prefer my application never get into the wrong hands, so I’m pretty relieved about the way things worked out.”
Oh, I never thought about that.
He takes a deep breath. “So,like I said, I’d say we’re pretty much even—in fact, I might very well still owe you—oh shit. Gotta run, PG. Hey, there’ll be wifi on my flight, so be sure to email me when you get my gift.”
“Okay, I will. Thank you again. Fly safely.”
He sounds like he’s running. “Oh, and don’t forget to tell me when you can make it to L.A. so I can book your flight—whoa, whoa, hang on!” He’s obviously shouting to someone on his end of the line. “Yeah, I’m on this flight. Thanks.” He addresses me again. “Okay, PG? Email me.”
“You better go, Josh—don’t miss your flight.”
“Yeah, I’m walking on board now. Talk to you later, Party Girl with a Hyphen. See you soon.”
My stomach bursts with butterflies and my heart squeezes. “Bye-bye, Playboy with a Heart of Gold. Can’t wait.”
He sighs cartoonishly, like he’s Lucy watching Schroeder playing piano. “Bye, Kat.”
I can feel his wide smile through the phone line. I hope he can feel mine in return.
“Bye, Josh.”
I hang up my phone, my mouth hanging open, my eyes as wide as freakin’ saucers. For a long moment, I look out the window of the cab in a daze, staring at the rain pounding insistently on the glass. Holy crappola, as Sarah always says, that entire conversation shocked the living hell out of me. Josh acted like... I can’t even finish the thought without possibly making my heart explode.
AndIacted the exact same way toward him.
Webothacted like...
Oh my God, both of us did, right? I wasn’t imagining it, was I?
I clutch my chest. Holy My Heart’s Gonna Burst Out of my Chest, Batman. I’m having trouble breathing. I take a deep, steadying breath. That conversation threw me for a loop. It was just so effing...affectionate. Andcomfortable. Andsweet. (Well, except when he asked what crawled up my ass—that wasn’t so sweet.)There was none of our usual cat-and-mouse thing going on—it felt like the cat had already caught its coveted mouse, long ago, and was now pinning it down and licking it from nose to tail.
I stash my phone in my purse—the Gucci bag Josh bought me during our Oksana-inspired shopping spree—and stare at the rain out the taxicab window. Holy hell, Josh’s generosity knows no bounds. He’s already done so much for me, and now he’s gonna help me get my little company off the ground, too? I thought I’d be at least forty before I even attempted to make that particular dream come true.
The windshield wipers are going back and forth at full speed, lulling me into a kind of trance.
I don’t care what Josh says—we’re definitely notevenwhen it comes to the two of us bestowing gifts and favors on each other. I joined ourOcean’s Elevencrew to protect Sarah and possibly myself,too—not to mention to get a free trip to Las Vegas with my best friend. Yes, everything wound up blowing up and becoming way, way bigger than any of us had ever imagined, but still... Josh keeps doing stuff for me,personally, and I most definitely didn’t save the world for him specifically. There’s no way around it: all I’ve done is take, take, take from Josh, letting him give, give, give to me ’til he’s blue in his ridiculously gorgeous face. And I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve his generosity or express my gratitude. In fact, I’m getting perilously close to becoming a total user-abuser, if I’m not already there. But what gift can I possibly give to Josh that would come even close to everything he’s already given to me?
My heart is throbbing in my ears. My chest is tight.
I already know the answer, of course. It’s not a big mystery: his deepest, darkest sexual fantasies served up on a silver platter.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to give him. Right down the line.
Of course, giving Josh complete sexual satisfaction, no matter what form that comes in, isn’t some sort of noble or charitable pursuit on my part—ha! It will be my sublime pleasure to give Josh exactly what he desires in the bedroom, a gift to myself as much as him. Hell yeah, it will.
And it’s not all the gifts and money Josh has given me that’s making me feel this way, either. Nate used to shower me with gifts, too (though on a much smaller scale), and I never once physically ached for him the way I’m aching for Josh right now. I never once daydreamed about feeling Nate pushing himself deep inside me, or closed my eyes and imagined his warm tongue on my clit, or fantasized about waking up in Nate’s arms and wordlessly taking his morning wood into my mouth.
I breathe deeply, arousal suddenly seeping into my panties.
I never once felt a near-desperate urge to fuck Nate any which way he likes it, literally,any which way, no matter how dirty or naughty it might be, or felt the urge to make his desires my own, or fantasized about sitting on his face or riding his cock ’til I’m screaming his name. And I certainly never once imagined Nate sitting at the dinner table with my family on Thanksgiving, or on the couch with my brothers, watching the Seahawks and eating my mom’s famous chili.
