The Revelation (7 page)

I think my heart is medically palpitating. “Because
if you started having any kind of sexual contact with the other
woman, then I’d get crazy-jealous.”

Josh shoots me a look that says “no shit” but he
doesn’t say anything.

“If we did it, it wouldn’t be all about making me
jealous, right? It’d be about turning me on—and, therefore,
you?”

“Correct.”

“Making me jealous wouldn’t be some sort of secret,
ulterior motive?” I feel like my heart’s gonna hurtle right out of
my chest. “You wouldn’t tell me one thing beforehand, just to get
me to do it, and then blindside me later, right?”

His face melts into total sincerity. He puts both
hands on my cheeks this time and leans his forehead against mine.
“Kat, I’d
never
blindside you, in any context. Sexual or
otherwise.”

My heart is racing so fast, I’m practically yelping
for air. “Because I’d only do it if the other woman was gonna be
the third wheel, not me.” I can’t believe I’m negotiating the terms
of this. How did this conversation go from hypotheticals to actual
negotiation so quickly?

“I’d respect that,” he says. “One hundred percent.
It’d be all about you. I wouldn’t lay a finger on the other woman
if you didn’t want me to. Not even a pinky.”

I’m having a hard time pushing air into my lungs.
“That’s what I’d want,” I say. “Not a finger. Absolutely no contact
between you and the other woman. It’d be all about me and you.”

“Done.” His eyes are like lit torches.

“And you’d sit and watch?”

“I would.”

“Would you jack off?”

“If that’s something you’d be okay with.”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes.”

“But you wouldn’t come. I’d want you to be able to
fuck me. Really hard.”

He shudders. “When I got to the point I couldn’t
stand it anymore, I’d pull you aside and tell the other woman to
leave and I’d fuck the shit out of you.”

I’m breathless. My skin is bursting with heat. I
slide from my chair to sit on his lap and he wraps his arms around
me. “Or, who knows,” I purr, “maybe you’d tell her to stay and
watch—see what she’s missing out on?” I can’t believe I just said
that. This man brings out a whole new level of naughty in me.

Clearly, Josh can’t believe I just said that,
either. “If that’s what you’d want, absolutely,” he says. “Totally
up to you.”

I can barely breathe. “And she wouldn’t be anyone
either of us knows?” I say softly. “Nobody you know?”

“It’d be whoever you pick, babe. Anyone at all, as
long as she tests clean. I don’t give a fuck who she is. It’s all
about you.”

My clit is throbbing so hard, it hurts. “But what if
I wind up picking someone you’re more attracted to than me? I’d be
able to tell, and I wouldn’t like it,” I say.

He places his fingertip in the cleft in my chin.
“That’s literally impossible.”

Holy fucking shit. I seriously can’t breathe right
now. I’m trembling. I swallow hard. “We’d do it and never see her
again? Because I wouldn’t want this kind of fantasy-thing to follow
us into our real life.”

He chuckles.

“What?”

“You just perfectly articulated why I joined The
Club.”

I make a face that says, “I see your point” and he
smiles broadly.

“You’re amazing, Kat,” he says. He puts his hand
under my chin and kisses me. “I think you might be perfect.” He
kisses me again. And then again. “You’re kinda freaking me out,
actually.”

My head is spinning. I can’t focus. I lean into him
and bite his lower lip, totally aroused, and he makes a noise of
surprise.

I suck on his lower lip and then pull away. “How
would we find her?” I whisper, licking my lips from our kiss.

“It’d be easy to do if we set our minds to it, I’m
sure.”

“We’d have to be one hundred percent sure we’d never
see her again. I wouldn’t want some horny blonde bitch stalking you
afterwards.” I jerk back.

“What?” He looks concerned.

“
Jen
.”

The aroused expression on Josh’s face instantly
vanishes. “No, Kat. Fuck no. Anyone but Jen.”

“No.” I roll my eyes. “Not
Jen.
Her email,
Josh—I want you to reply to Jen’s email. I want you to tell her
you’re not interested in her. Right now. Show me.”

He shakes his head and exhales, letting his lips
flap together in exasperation as he does. “Way to lick me and punch
me in the balls
again,
PG. Jesus Fucking Christ. Madame
Terrorist returns.”

“Open your laptop, Josh,” I say, punching him in his
shoulder. “We’re gonna send that bitch an email right now and put
her out of her freakin’ misery—and therefore put me out of
mine.”

Josh

“Hey, Jen,” I say, enunciating the words as I type
them onto the screen of my laptop. Kat’s sitting on my lap, her arm
around my shoulder, the side of her head against mine, staring at
my screen as I type. “Thanks for your invitation to your birthday
weekend,” I write. I stop and look at Kat. “That okay so far,
boss?”

“So far, so good,” she says. “Continue.”

“Why don’t
you
just write it? Something tells
me you’re gonna rewrite the whole damned thing anyway, no matter
what I say.”

She laughs. “Nope. This is all you.”

I roll my eyes. “Remind me why I’m doing this?”

“You mean why are you replying to Jen at all? Or why
are you doing it with me looking over your shoulder?”

“Both.”

“Well, you’re replying to Jen because you’re not a
total douche and she deserves a reply. She invited you to her
twenty-ninth birthday party, after all. The polite thing to do is
RSVP.”

I purse my lips, annoyed.

“
And
you’re doing it with me looking over
your shoulder because this email reply is gonna give me
near-orgasmic pleasure. And you like giving me pleasure, right,
baby?”

I grumble.

“Aw, poor Josh has to put on his big-boy pants. Come
on. Just hit her with some compassionate honesty. The more you do
it, the easier it gets. Trust me.”

“I just don’t like hurting people’s feelings.”

She scoffs. “And letting her twist in the wind is
gonna hurt her feelings less than an honest email? I’ve been in her
shoes with guys, and believe me, a girl feels like a piece of shit
when a guy doesn’t even give her the courtesy of a reply.”

“There’s a man alive who didn’t give you the
courtesy of a reply?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Turned out the guy was married.”

“Ooph.”

“And I had absolutely no idea.”

“God, men are such pricks.”

She laughs. “Come on. Quit stalling. You’re so
damned good at distracting me.”

“I already told her twice
.
Once in New York
and then again on the phone after Reed’s party. She’s just deaf or
dumb, I guess.”

“No, you
think
you told her, but you must not
have.” She shrugs. “First rule of PR, Josh: failure to communicate
is on the speaker, not the listener.”

I let out a loud puff of air. “I was pretty damned
clear both times, Kat.”

“Obviously not,” Kat says. “She’s really into you,
Josh—which means she’s hearing what she wants to hear and telling
you what she thinks you want to hear. You need to shut the door and
turn the frickin’ lock.” She pauses pointedly. “Unless you don’t
want
to shut the door?”

“Gimme a fucking break.”

She motions to the screen. “Then, type.”

I begin typing again. “I hope you have a great
birthday,” I write, saying the words out loud as I do. “I won’t be
able to join you. I’m...” I stop typing. “You’re gonna rewrite all
of this, aren’t you?”

“Just keep going.”

“Well, shit.
You
write it, for fuck’s sake.
What am I gonna say to the girl, ‘I’m not into you? I used you for
sex? I was thinking of Kat when I fucked you’?”

Kat’s face lights up like the Fourth of July. “Oh, I
like that.” She motions to the screen. “Write that.”

“I’m not gonna write
that
.”

“Is it the truth?”

“Well, yeah.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Even the part about you thinking of me while
fucking her?”

“Of course. I already told you that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I sure as hell did.”

“No.”

“Well, if I didn’t, lemme tell you now. I couldn’t
stop thinking about you, fantasizing about you, jacking off while
thinking about you—and you wouldn’t leave your date with Cameron
Fucking Schulz for me and I was pissed and frustrated as hell.”

“Oh, well, that’s something different than thinking
about me while having sex with Jen.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Saying you worked yourself up into sexual
frustration by jacking off and thinking about me and
then
fucked Jen to relieve your frustration is quite different from
saying you fucked her
and thought of me while doing it
. See
the difference?”

I put my hand on my forehead like she’s giving me a
splitting headache.

“Do you see the difference?”

“Yes. I see the difference.”

“Likewise, whatever you said to Jen in New York and
on the phone after Reed’s party wasn’t the same thing as, ‘I am not
remotely interested in you in any way, shape or form, so leave me
the hell alone.’ Whatever you said to her, she interpreted to mean,
‘I am not interested in a
serious relationship
with you, but
I will quite happily continue to casually fuck you.’”

I close my eyes, trying to escape the torture.

“You’re hilarious.”

I open my eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re this big, strong, gorgeous guy with
all the swagger and confidence in the world—but secretly you’re
kind of a puss.”

“No, I’m not. Absolutely not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re scared of female emotion.
You’re scared of making a girl cry. Waaaah.”

I exhale loudly. “Can we please just write the
email? Seriously. I’ve already spent way too much of my time on
this.”

“This isn’t about Jen. This is about you learning a
life lesson,
Playboy. Clearly, growing up without a mom,
there was no one to teach you how to understand and communicate
with women. You need some tutoring.”

I feel instantly defensive—but quickly realize she’s
got a point. “You might be right about that,” I say. “I’ve never
thought about it that way.”

“Of course, I’m right. I’ve got four brothers and a
dad to teach me how to talk and think like a dude. But who do you
have to teach you how to talk and think like a chick?”

I purse my lips, considering. “My personal
assistant?”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Then no one.”

“Well, don’t you worry, honey. I’m here to save the
day. So let’s try this again.” She motions to the computer screen.
“Say what you really mean. Say it kindly, but say it clearly.”

I grumble, but I put my hands on my keyboard. “I’m
sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when we spoke the other
day,” I type. “I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship of any
kind with you.” I stop, waiting for Kat’s reaction, but she’s
stone-faced. I continue typing again. “In New York, I truly thought
we were both up for the same thing: a meaningless one-night stand.
That was probably a stupid assumption by me, given our history. In
fact, I was probably being insensitive by making that assumption. I
should have known your feelings might be involved. But mine
weren’t.” I pause and look at Kat. “Okay?”

She touches my cheek and assesses me with earnest
eyes. “You’re doing great.”

I’m floored by her sudden show of tenderness. I
swallow hard and turn back to my screen. But I can’t think. My
heart is suddenly pounding wildly.

“Go on,” she says. “Just tell the truth, whatever it
is.”

I take a deep breath. “The truth is,” I type, “I’m
interested in someone else.” Oh shit, my heart is racing. “Really,
really interested. I don’t know where things might lead with her,
or if she’s interested in me in return, but I’d like to find out.
And that means I can’t fuck it up by being a total douche and
continuing to pursue something with you.”

I look at Kat. Her mouth is hanging open.

She puts her hand on her heart.

“And, yeah,” I continue typing, “if you think I’m
talking about The Jealous Bitch, you’re right. She might be a
grenade that unpredictably explodes all over me, but that’s what I
like about her.”

I’m practically panting. Holy motherfucking
shit.

Before I’ve even turned my head to get a read on
Kat’s reaction, her lips are on mine and her tongue is in my mouth
and my hands are on her cheeks and her arms are around my neck and
we’re kissing the hell out of each other. She presses herself into
me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, grasping at
her for dear life, whispering her name into her lips.

After several minutes, my phone pings on the table
and we begrudgingly pull away from each other, our faces on fire. I
look at my phone. It’s a text from Henn:

“Hey, dipshit. I can understand you wanting an
especially thorough eye exam, considering who your optometrist is,”
Henn writes. “But you and Kat need to get your asses down here
ASAP. Meet me on the casino floor near the elevator bank in
five.”

Kat

I crawl into bed with my laptop and sigh with
happiness. Yeehaw, I’m finally gonna read Josh’s application,
without even the possibility of an interruption.

After Henn took my photo downstairs (after we’d
finally located a simple white wall to use as a backdrop), the
three of us briefly talked to Jonas, who told us the meeting with
the feds is going down later today at one o’clock Washington
time.