She looks up at me from under my straining cock and smiles. “I never knew I could love someone the way I love you, Joshua William Faraday,” she purrs—and then she takes the full length of my cock into her mouth and proceeds to deliver a blowjob so intense, it makes me grip the sink ledge to keep from falling to my knees.
“Oh, God, I love you,” I growl, trying to hang on. I grip her hair and press myself farther into her open throat. “You’re worth every fucking penny, baby,” I choke out, my passion reaching its boiling point. But even as I’m saying those words—because, of course, those are the magic words Kat loves best when she’s giving me head—what I’m actually thinking is something new for me while in the midst of receiving a mind-blowing blowjob:If a guy needs more than this to be eternally happy with one woman,then he’s either crazy or just a greedy-ass motherfucker.
Thirty-Three
Kat
“Blood pressure looks good,” the nurse says, removing the cuff from my arm. “Sit tight for a bit and Dr. Gupta will be right in.”
“Thank you,” I say. I exhale and squeeze Josh’s hand. “I’m nervous.”
Josh kisses my forehead. “The kumquat’s gonna be fine,” he says softly. “Hey, Sarah Cruz. Hit us with some ‘Would You Rather?’ questions. Kat’s nervous—we gotta distract her.”
“Okay, Josh Faraday,” Sarah says. “But under the circumstances, I’m gonna keep it family-friendly.”
“Boo!” I shout.
“Yes, Kat,” Sarah says sternly. “Playing X-rated ‘Would You Rather?’ in this crowd would hurtle us into TMI territory on a bullet train.”
I laugh. “Probably true.”
“Okay, then,” Sarah says. “Would you rather be hideously ugly but extremely wealthy, or spectacularly good looking but dirt poor?”
We all ponder that for a moment.
“Jonas?” Sarah asks. “What say you, love?’
“In which of these scenarios do I have a better shot at snagging you?” Jonas asks.
“Doesn’t matter. I’d love you rich or poor, gorgeous or hideous.”
Jonas shrugs. “Then I don’t care. You pick. As long as I have you, I’m good.”
Josh shoots me an annoyed expression, and, in reply, I pretend to stick my finger down my throat.
“Is it your life’s mission to make me look like a prick?” Josh asks Jonas. “Because I was about to say rich and ugly.”
“Aw, come on, babe,” I say. “Good looking and poor, all the way.”
“No, babe. If I’m rich and ugly, I can wine and dine you, which means I’d still bag you. Best of both worlds—I’d still be richandI’d still have you.”
“You’d bag me even more if you were dirt poor but looked the way you do, I assure you.” I wink. “ If you wanna wine me and dine me when you’re dirt poor, just make me one of your orgasm-inducing PB&Js.”
“Kat,” Sarah chastises, putting her hands over her ears. “Family friendly, remember?”
“Okay, okay,” I say. “Ask another one, Sarah.”
“But this time don’t lob a softball at your husband that makes me look like a total prick, Sarah Cruz,” Josh adds.
“I don’t think it was Sarah’s question that made you look like a total prick,” Jonas says.
I look at my watch and shift on the examination table, making the wax paper crinkle underneath me. “Where’s the doctor?”
“Okay, Kat. Listen up,” Sarah says. “Would you rather have balls hanging from your chin or a two foot tail that wags every time you feel excited?”
We all laugh at the ridiculousness of the question.
“Hey, I thought these were supposed to behypothetical,” Josh says, and we all laugh again.
