Page 19 of Infatuation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #1)

Twelve

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 .”