The Infatuation (Josh and Kat #1 , The Club #5) (14 page)

Kat rolls.
Five
. Everyone at the table
cheers. We’re still alive.

“Add this to the lady’s bet on the six,” I say,
throwing the dealer another orange. “And put this on mine.” I throw
him three more orange chips.

Kat takes a deep breath, blows on the dice, and
rolls again.
Jackpot.

The entire table erupts. Kat and Sarah leap into
each other’s arms, jumping up and down, while Jonas and I look on,
laughing hysterically and shaking our heads.

When Kat disengages from Sarah, she sees the mammoth
stack of chips headed her way from the dealer. “Oh my effing God,”
she says, her face suddenly turning to ash. She scoops up her
winnings with shaking hands, suddenly looking like she’s gonna
puke. “I’ve gotta stop rolling now,” she says, her voice tight.
“That’s it for me.”

“You can’t stop,” I say. “Your roll’s not
finished.”

“I can’t... I’ve gotta stop. I can’t gamble anymore.
Oh my God.”

“Good call, Kitty Kat,” Sarah says. “Quit while
you’re ahead. Speaking of which.” She turns around, puts her arms
around Jonas’ neck for the millionth time tonight, and whispers
something into his ear.

Jonas’ entire body jolts. He abruptly pushes all his
chips over to Kat’s already mammoth stack, grabs Sarah’s hand, and
yanks her away from the table like he’s pulling a blowup doll. “See
you guys later,” he calls out over his shoulder.

“See you, bro,” I shout. “Have fun.”

And just like that, the lovebirds disappear into the
crowded casino.

“Wait, Jonas!” Kat yells. “Your chips!” But he’s
long gone. “Jonas gave me his chips,” Kat says, her eyes wide. “Oh
my God. He gave me his chips.”

“Because he wanted you to have them.”

“But that’s got to be—” She does a cursory count of
the chips in front of her. “Holy shitballs! Almost fifteen thousand
bucks! Plus what I won on that last roll, thanks to your extra
bets—oh my effing God. I’ve got like twenty thousand bucks here,
Josh.”

“Congratulations.”

“But . . .”

“Kat, whatever Sarah said to Jonas to make him shove
those chips at you was obviously far more enticing to him than any
amount of money.”

Kat’s mouth is hanging open. Obviously, this is a
life-changing amount of money for the girl.

“Take it, Kat. You just made everyone at this table
a crapload of money, including me. That’s how Vegas works, baby.
You earned it.”

The dealer shoves the dice at Kat. “Still your roll,
miss,” he says.

She shakes her head. “You roll for a while, Josh.
I’ll just watch.” She plops a tall stack of orange chips in front
of me on the ledge of the table.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“The money you gave me to gamble with at the
beginning, plus the oranges you just threw onto the six for
me.”

“Come on, Blondie. It’s still your roll,” Hawaiian
Shirt Guy says, clearly getting annoyed.

“Josh, I can’t.” She looks at me for help, her face
tight.

“She’s done,” I say forcefully—even though I know
it’s unthinkable for a hot roller to quit mid-roll. Hawaiian Shirt
Guy starts protesting, but I glare at him, making him shut his
fucking mouth. I tip the dealers a thousand each and scoop up my
chips. “Come on, Blondie,” I say, staring down Hawaiian Shirt Guy.
“Let’s go celebrate our good fortune.”

We begin walking toward the cashier, our hands
overflowing with our bounty.

“I can’t keep all this,” Kat says. “This is an
insane amount of money.”

“Don’t overthink it.”

She holds out her chips. “Really, I can’t. Take it
before I give in to temptation.”

I tilt my head at her. “You got a car payment?” I
ask.

She nods.

“Will this pay off the loan?”

She snorts. “And then some.”

“Then that settles it. It would be fiscally
irresponsible for you
not
to accept this money. Don’t be
fiscally irresponsible, Kat.”

She looks unsure.

I chuckle. “Seriously, Kat. That’s chump change to
Jonas, and you just made me a ton of money. See?” I hold out my
chips to prove it. “I’m
rich
!”

She purses her lips. “Well... are you gonna expect
something in return?”

“Nope. No strings attached.”

Surprisingly, her face flashes with disappointment,
not relief.

Interesting.

“Although, of course,” I quickly add, “I
do
expect to get something from you tonight—something that’s gonna be
so fucking awesome, you’re gonna thank me profusely and beg me to
do it again and again. But you’re gonna give it to me because you
wanna do it so fucking bad, it hurts—not because you’re paying me
back for a few stupid gambling chips.”

Kat

“Whatcha drinking?” Josh asks me when the bartender
approaches us for our order.

“A dirty martini. Grey goose. Two olives,” I
say.

“I like your style, Kat.” He smiles at the
bartender. “Make it two—plus two shots of Gran Patron, please.”

When the bartender leaves, Josh turns a heated gaze
on me. “Jesus, Kat. You’re so fucking beautiful, you’re causing me
pain.”

“Wow. Thank you. You’re so fucking beautiful, you’re
pissing me off.”

He laughs. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you make me
wanna punch a wall.”

“Well, you’re so fucking beautiful, you make me
wanna hurl all over you.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Yup.”

“Damn. I must be
really
fucking
beautiful.”

“Or I’ve got a particularly weak stomach,” I say.
“Which, actually, I do.”

He pauses briefly. “You really are fucking
beautiful, Kat.” He reaches out, slowly, like he’s not sure if I’m
gonna stop him or not, and gently touches the tip of his finger to
my chin.

I close my eyes. “Holy Who-Knew-a
Chin-Could-Be-an-Erogenous-Zone, Batman,” I say.

One side of his mouth hitches up. “I’ve wanted to
touch this little cleft in your chin since the minute I first laid
eyes on you,” he says, his voice low and intense.

I take a deep breath. My flesh feels hot under his
fingertip.

His hand migrates to my cheek. He pulls me toward
him.

I stiffen, halting my forward progress. “What’d you
ask for in your application, Josh?” I whisper.

He leans back sharply. “Seriously?”

I nod.

“Fuck. You’re the most stubborn woman in the entire
fucking world.”

I shrug. “I warned you. I only get more
determined.”

The bartender puts our drinks in front of us and
Josh raises his shot glass.

“To you, Kat. May you soon realize the folly of your
ways and stop being so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you, Josh. And to you, as well.” I raise my
glass. “May you soon realize I never back down so you might as well
give me what I want now so we can move quickly to the inevitable
conclusion of this ridiculous showdown.”

We clink our shots and down them.

“You don’t really give a shit what’s in my
application, do you?” he asks. “You just wanna
win.
”

“Sure, I care. I’m absolutely dying to know. And now
that you’re being so secretive about it, I wanna know even more.” I
wag my finger at him. “You should have used reverse psychology on
me, Josh. I might have dropped the whole thing if you hadn’t been
so freaking weird about it.”

He scowls. “I’m not being weird about it. It’s
just... not
relevant
.”

I exhale. “What if sleeping with you means waking up
in a dog collar, chained to a donkey? That seems like something I
should know.”

A wide grin spreads across his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Because you just tacitly admitted you want to sleep
with me. Otherwise you wouldn’t care if I like donkeys and dog
collars.”

I scowl at him. “Okay, how about this? I don’t need
to see the actual application. Just tell me verbally what you said
in it. That’s my final offer.”

“Oh, that’s your ‘final offer,’ huh? You think
you’re running this negotiation?” He takes a long sip of his drink.
“Nope. I don’t negotiate with terrorists. Ever.”

I throw up my hands. “You’re really frustrating, you
know that? The harder you fight me on it, the more I wanna
know.”

“And you gotta know before you’ll even
kiss
me now? Not just before you
fuck
me?”

“Correct. The stakes have officially risen.”

He exhales with exasperation. “Lame. Just one kiss,
Kat. You don’t need an application to give me a simple kiss.”

“It won’t be a simple kiss.”

“It won’t be a simple kiss,” he concedes, nodding.
“That’s true. Because after one kiss, you’re gonna wanna fuck me.”
He grins. “You won’t be able to control yourself.”

I roll my eyes, though he’s undoubtedly right: if I
kiss this man, it’s gonna take a grand total of forty-three seconds
before I jump his bones. I know it as surely as I know my own
name.

“Your demand is patently unfair, you know,” he
continues. “Because
you
don’t have an application to give to
me
. You’re asking me to bare my perverted soul to you
without getting anything in return. Sex doesn’t count because you
want it as much as I do.”

“Fine, then. I’ll lay my perverted soul bare to you,
too. I’ve got nothing to hide. Ask me anything you want—right here
and now.”

He motions to the bartender. “Another couple shots,
please. Gran Patron. Limes. Thanks.”

“I’m serious,” I say. “I’ll show you how truth and
honesty works. Let ’er rip.”

“Okay.” He sits back, assessing me with smoldering
eyes. “Admit you’re soaking your panties for me right now.”

I shift in my seat. “No.”

“No, you won’t admit it—or no, you’re not soaking
your panties for me?”

“No, I’m
not
soaking my panties for you.”

“Bullshit. It’s written all over your face. You’re
soaking them clean through.” He rolls his eyes. “I thought you were
gonna model truth and honesty for me. Ha! You’re so full of shit.”
He swigs the last of his drink.

I lean forward and grin. “I’m not full of shit. I’m
telling the God’s truth. I’m not soaking my panties for
you—
because I’m not wearing any panties
.”

Josh

Oh fuck. She’s the devil.

My dick is doing fucking jumping jacks in my
pants.

I can’t breathe.

What the fuck is wrong with this woman? Is she
insane? Her dress is barely longer than a fucking T-shirt. Is she
trying to give the entire world an unimpeded peek at her pussy? All
of a sudden, I can’t remove my eyes from her crotch or stop
imagining what’s hiding just beyond the sequined hem of her
itty-bitty dress.

She re-crosses her toned, bare thighs and flips her
blonde hair, and I tear my eyes away from her lap.

“Do you always go commando?” I ask. But then I roll
my eyes at myself.
That’s
my lame response? Who the fuck am
I right now—
Jonas
?

“No,” she says, laughing. “I typically wear
underpants. A teeny-tiny G-string, to be exact.” She blows me a
kiss and winks.

Oh, she’s a fucking sadist.

“That’s what I was wearing tonight, actually—a
teeny, tiny, black lace G-string—mmmm—but I took it off in the
bathroom right before we sat down at the bar.” She opens her beaded
clutch purse and pulls out a tiny black swatch of lace. “Looks like
you’re not the only one who likes a little
excitement,
Playboy
.
” She winks again.

Holy fuck. My pulse is suddenly pounding in my ears.
I lean forward, right into her gorgeous face.

“Goddammit, Kat. That’s it.” I pull out my credit
card and throw it onto the bar. “This bullshit competition is over.
Get up. I’m taking you upstairs right now.”

She laughs and doesn’t move a muscle. “Great. Can’t
wait to read your application before we get started.”

“Kat.
No
.”

“I’ve told you my terms, Playboy—and I’m prepared to
do
anything
I have to do to get what I want.” She whirls her
undies around on her finger. “
Anything at all
.”

I exhale, exasperated. “Dude, you’re a freaking
suicide bomber, you know that? You want me as much as I want
you—but you’re willing to blow yourself to smithereens in order to
win
.”

She re-crosses her legs, yet again. “Gosh, is it
breezy in here? Wow. It feels kinda breezy in here.” She
mock-shivers and lets out a sexy growl. “God, I wish I had an
application to a sex club to keep me warm right now. Brr.”

“You’re evil,” I say, my voice low and intense.
“Pure fucking evil. You’re a fucking
jihadist
.”

She smiles broadly. “Oh, I like that word. I
am
.” She laughs. “Oh, God. I really am.”

My cock is throbbing. “Half the fun of being with
someone new is not knowing what you’re getting yourself into in
advance. Maybe you wake up chained to a donkey; maybe you don’t.
It’s like opening a present on Christmas. You don’t get to ask,
‘What’s in the box?’ before you rip into it—you just rip into it,
baby.”

She shrugs and re-crosses her legs, yet again.
“Interesting theory. Let’s agree to disagree.”

“I feel like you’re licking my balls and punching
them at the same time,” I say.

She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re
hilarious.”

“And you’re demonic.”

“I am. I really am.”

“Obviously.”

She shrugs. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s the way I
am. I have four brothers. You show weakness with four brothers,
you’re dead.”

“You have
four
brothers?”

She nods. “You’d be shocked what I’ve had to do to
survive and thrive in a house with four guys. Holding off on
kissing you ’til I get my way, even though all I wanna do right now
is kiss the hell out of you—including sucking on that delectable
lower lip of yours, by the way, mmm, that’s a sexy lower lip—is
freaking child’s play. So give up now because I
will
get
what I want. Just ask my brothers.
I always win
.”