“Did you see Jonas’ face?” Henn asks. “That Max dude’s about to become hash browns, man.”
I can’t wait another minute. I grab Kat’s hand and pull her toward the elevators on the far side of the casino.
“Hey, boss,” Henn says behind me. “The craps tables are this way, man.”
“You’re gonna have to play on your own for a little while, Henn,” I say over my shoulder.
“Oh,” I hear Henn say behind me. “Gotcha.” He sounds crestfallen. And I’m intellectually sorry about that, I really am—because I love that fucking genius like a brother—but right now, the only thing I care about is finally getting to experience the motherfucking force of nature that is Katherine Ulla Morgan from the inside-out.
“Are you taking me to read your application?” Kat whispers, clutching my hand.
I don’t reply. We’ve reached the elevators and I bang on the call button. Now that I’ve kissed her, I’m about to explode with my pent-up sexual desire. I’m a dam about to break.
“Are you taking me to read your application?” Kat repeats, her voice barely controlled excitement.
I turn to face her. “No. I’m taking you to my room where I’m going to fuck the living shit out of you,” I say evenly. “AndthenI’ll give you my goddamned motherfucking application.”
She clamps her lips together, shocked.
I grunt with frustration and lean in to whisper into her ear. “And I swear to God, you little terrorist, you better not say another goddamned fucking word about that motherfucking application until after I’m through fucking you. You’ll get what you want, I swear to fucking God, because it’s clear to me now you’re as inevitable as goddamned gravity, but first things first I’m gonna get inside that tight little body of yours and fuck you ’til you’re screaming my name.”
Thirty-Four
Kat
The elevator arrives and Josh pulls me inside, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing. An orchestral version of “Take on Me” by A-ha greets us in the enclosed space.
The doors begin closing and Josh lunges at me, making my clit zing with anticipation—but just before the doors slide shut, a hand stops their progress and an elderly couple steps into the elevator car.
Josh leans abruptly away from me, clasps his hands in front of his crotch, and looks down at the floor of the elevator.
I straighten up, feeling light-headed and weak-kneed.
“Hello,” the lady says. She’s got silver hair and she’s wearing a simple sundress.
“Hello,” I say brightly to the woman and her husband, trying to distract attention away from Josh and his pained expression.
“Are you two having fun?” the woman asks.
“Definitely. You?”
“Oh, yes. We always have fun in Vegas. We play the slots and see a show—always a good time.”
“Have you been winning?”
The lady laughs. “No.”
I look at Josh. His head is bowed. His hands are still clasped in front of his pants.
“What show did you see this time?” I ask, my heart racing.
Josh shifts his weight next to me.
“Blue Man Group,” the woman replies, her eyes darting to Josh and back to me. “What have you been up to, honey?”
“Oh,” I say. “Nothing much. The usual Vegas stuff—a little craps,Cirque Du Soleil,plotting to overthrow the evil empire andsave the world, bringing a stubborn man to his knees—you know, blah, blah, blah.”
The woman chuckles.
