Page 40 of Infatuation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #1)

Twenty-Eight

Kat

For hours and hours, Sarah and I have worked alongside Henn, gathering and assembling evidence for Sarah’s report while Josh and Jonas have worked tirelessly on the other side of the room, researching, analyzing, and formulating the big-picture strategy for whatever the heck we’re finally gonna do with the report when it’s done.

“Dudes, I’m turning into a pumpkin,” Henn finally declares, his face the picture of total exhaustion. “I can’t uncross my eyes.”

“Go crash, Henny,” Sarah says. “You’ve already given us plenty of stuff to work with for the rest of the night.”

“I won’t sleep too long. There’s still an ass-load worth of shit to do. I just need a power nap.”

“Hey, Americanos and Red Bulls can only stave off the physical needs of the human body for so long,” Sarah says.

“I’ll see you pretty ladies later.” He stumbles away, bleary-eyed.

“What about you, Kitty Kat?” Sarah asks. “You need a break?”

“Hell no,” I answer. “I’m an evidence-assembling machine. Just give me another task and I’m on it.”

“Coolio Iglesias,” Sarah says. “Let’s turn on some music—that always helps me get my second wind.

” She flips through her music library on her laptop.

“Oh, yes . My girl, Audra Mae—now there’s a voice that inspires greatness.

” She presses play on a song and a freaking hurricane of a female voice blasts me and jolts me back awake.

“Who’s this?” I ask. “Oh my God. She’s incredible.”

“Audra Mae and the Almighty Sound,” Sarah says. “‘The Real Thing.’”

“Holy shitballs,” I say. “I’m gonna make this my ringtone. I’ve got goose bumps. ”

We listen to the song all the way through, and when it ends, I want to hear it again.

“Play it on a loop, Sarah,” I say. “I’m already addicted. Gah!”

“Right? I know. She sings right from her soul.” She glances at Josh and Jonas across the room, their noses buried in Jonas’ laptop. “Hey, how are you boys doing over there? You’ve been going nonstop for hours.”

“Just coming up with a foolproof plan to fuck the bad guys up the ass, baby,” Jonas mutters, typing something on his keyboard.

“Jonas, your eyes are bugging out of your head—maybe you should take a short break—like, go work out or something?” Sarah says.

“There’s no time for that,” Jonas says, not taking his eyes off his screen. “I’m on a mission from God here, baby.”

Sarah begins to say something more, but Jonas cuts her off.

“ Because I love my baby more than life itself .”

Sarah takes in a sharp breath. “Holy crappola,” she whispers.

“Holy shitballs,” I reply, my heart racing vicariously for her. “Is that the first time?”

She shakes her head. “No, but definitely the first time in front of other people.”

“Aw.” I grab her hand. “Our little boy is growing up.”

Sarah smiles broadly. “That gorgeous man never ceases to surprise me.”

“I could say the same thing about that gorgeous man’s brother,” I say.

I stare at Josh for a long beat. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt today, a rarity for the ever-fashionable Playboy, and he looks hot as freaking hell.

Jesus God, everything about that man—from his taut muscles to the slight wave of his dark hair to his sly smile, even the dragon on his bicep peeking out from his short sleeve—is drawing me to him uncontrollably.

But, damn, he’s stubborn. And guarded, too—deceptively so.

He comes off as so open and easygoing, but he’s hiding darkness under there, I can feel it.

I try to imagine Josh fucking me in a bunny suit, but that doesn’t ring true.

More than likely, he’s into S&M, right? He’s gotta be some kind of a dom—into whips and chains and butt plugs.

I imagine myself calling him “master” in a doggie collar and my clit pulses.

I could work with that. Or, whoa, wait, maybe he’s a sub ?

Holy Not What I’m Hoping For, Batman. Not at all.

That’s the thing—it could be anything. It’s killing me not knowing.

“Kat?” Sarah says.

“Sorry,” I say. “Got distracted.”

Sarah gives me a document and asks me to scour it for any references to international money transfers.

“Sure thing,” I say. But the words on the page are beginning to blur. My head is bobbing on my neck like I’m a drowsy truck driver. I didn’t even study this hard in college, for crying out loud.

For the hundredth time tonight, I glance over at Josh across the room.

He’s engaged in an animated conversation with Jonas about.

.. What the heck are those two jabbering about now?

—I strain to listen over the music on Sarah’s laptop—oh, which NFL quarterback is the greatest of all time.

Well, that’s an easy one: Joe Montana . Everyone knows that.

Duh. Surely, my dad, mom, and three out of four of my brothers would say the same thing.

“It’s a no-brainer,” Josh says. “ Joe Montana .”

I smile broadly to myself. Josh would fit right in with my family.

“That’s the conventional answer,” Jonas says. “But I’d argue Peyton Manning has recently overtaken the top spot.”

I roll my eyes. Well, that’s plain ridiculous.

“No way,” Josh says from across the room. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

I smile to myself again. Great minds think alike.

Jonas keeps arguing his (ridiculous) position until, suddenly, without warning, Josh reaches up, midsentence, and flicks Jonas’ forehead with his index finger.

Jonas abruptly stops talking and puts his hand on his forehead. “ Ow .”

For a short beat, it’s not clear if Jonas is gonna throttle Josh or laugh uncontrollably, but then Jonas’ features contort into unmistakable amusement and he lets out a belly laugh, causing Josh to burst out laughing, too.

All tension averted, Josh leans back, spreads his legs, and shifts his dick in his pants.

“Dumbshit,” Josh mutters, shaking his head.

Jonas chuckles.

“ Peyton Manning .”

“Sorry,” Jonas says, still laughing.

“You should be, bro—you fucking should be. ”

The boys laugh together a bit more and then finally refocus their attention on Jonas’ laptop.

My jaw is hanging open.

My chest is tight.

My pulse is pounding in my ears.

I can’t take my eyes off Josh, though all he’s doing is staring at a laptop.

Audra Mae is singing from Sarah’s laptop into my ear, and suddenly, I realize her lyrics were written for me—for this moment. I want Josh. And I’m coming for him, just like Audra Mae is coming for her man in the song.

Josh had better watch the fuck out.

Forget what I said about wanting to take a break from our battle to the death.

That was before this moment—before Josh correctly named Joe Montana as the all-time best NFL quarterback of all time.

Before Josh defended his (correct) position with a perfectly timed forehead-flick, expertly diffusing potential tension with humor.

Before he shifted his donkey-dick in his pants for the umpteenth time, making my crotch burn and my pulse race.

Before Audra Mae and the Almighty Sound entered the room and belted out my own feelings into my ear.

And, most of all, that was before Josh Faraday paid some ungodly amount of money to my boss so I can continue saving the world here in Las Vegas with him and keep my job in Seattle, too.

“ And speaking for myself personally, I have no desire to save the world without my Party Girl with a Hyphen by my side ,” Josh said.

Holy hell, I get goose bumps just thinking about him saying those words to me.

I want him. I want him. I want him.

And not just sexually, either—I’m way past simply wanting to bang Josh now (though God knows I want to bang him more than I want to breathe). I want Josh to be mine —in every conceivable way. I want his body. I want his heart. I want his soul. And, goddammit, I want his secrets, too.

Josh says I’ve been demanding something from him that I can’t or won’t give him in return?

Well, he’s got a point about that, actually.

But what if I did unexpectedly have something to give him in return for his secrets?

What if I had secrets of my own to give him—and what if I turned the tables on him and gave them to him first ?

“ If I had an application, I’d give it to you ,” I told Josh last night outside my room after the Henn-kissing debacle .

“ Easy for you to say ,” Josh replied. “ You don’t have one .”

But what if I did ? That would change everything, wouldn’t it?

“Hey, Sarah,” I whisper, leaning into her shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“Do you happen to have a copy of an old Club application lying around?”

Sarah pauses what she’s doing and looks up. “Um. No, all the applications I had were on my laptop that got stolen.”

“And Henn hasn’t been able to access member applications yet?”

“Not yet.” She puts down the document she’s reading with sudden emphasis and looks at me like I’ve suggested we try to sneak up on the President of the United States and give him a wedgie.

“Katherine Morgan, even if we could get our hands on Josh’s application, you absolutely can’t read it without his permission. ”

I roll my eyes. “I know that. Jeez. Gimme some credit.”

Sarah’s looking at me like she doesn’t buy a word of my bullshit.

I pause. “Okay, yes, I’d read that effing application in a heartbeat if I could get my grubby little hands on it,” I say.

Sarah laughs. “I know.”

“But I’m not trying to get Josh’s application through Henn—I wanna get it directly from Josh. And to do that, I need to see the questions he answered—the questions everyone answers when applying to The Club.”

Sarah presses her lips together. “Why?”

I ignore her question. “Do you remember the questions?”

“They’re burned into my gray matter for eternity. Why do you want them?”

“Would you email them to me, exactly the way they’re worded on a standard application?”

Sarah smirks. “Are you by any chance planning to write answers to these questions, my dearest friend?”

A smile spreads across my face. “Why, yes, that is the plan, my lovely, darling friend.”

“Oh my, my, my. Are you gonna apply to the Josh Faraday Club, by any chance?” She shoots me a naughty smile.

“ Ooooh, I like that, Sarah. Why, yes , I do believe I am,” I say slowly, my skin tingling.

“Did Josh ask you to apply to his club? ”

“No. He has no idea. This is gonna be a surprise—or more like a blindside .” I glance furtively across the room at Josh.

He and Jonas are chatting calmly about something on Jonas’ laptop.

“This is gonna be a diabolical tactic to get two suicide bombers to finally lay down their bombs and make nice—very, very nice. ”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll work like gangbusters. The day Kat Morgan can’t get a man to bend to her mighty will, the rest of us might as well crawl into bunkers and await the End of Days.”

“I’m not so sure this time, to be honest. Josh is the hardest nut to crack I’ve ever encountered. The Most Stubborn Man in the World.”

“So he’s the male version of you, then?”

I nod slowly, not taking my eyes off Josh across the room.

Sarah laughs. “Well, that’s a scary combination. Definitely sounds explosive. ”

“That’s what we are—even against our mutual interests.” I begin to say something more but wind up yawning, instead.

“Aw, honey, you better get some sleep,” Sarah says. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Yeah, I’m about to fall over.”

I get up and stretch.

“Oh, are you heading out, Kat?” Josh asks, his head whipping up from his work.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve gotta get some sleep—I’m about to crash and burn.”

“I’ll walk you to your room. Hold on just a sec.” He turns to confer with Jonas about something.

“Enjoy getting blown to bits, girl,” Sarah whispers. “ Ka-boom .”

“Nah. There are no explosions on the agenda tonight,” I say. “Tonight, I’m gonna get good and rested so I can write my application to The Josh Faraday Club first thing tomorrow.”

Sarah smiles at me suggestively. “I’ll send you those questions ASAP.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’m gonna start working on my ‘application’ the minute I wake up.”

Sarah doesn’t reply. Something across the room has grabbed her attention. I glance across the room. Oh. Correction. Someone has grabbed Sarah’s attention. Oh my, that’s quite a look Jonas is giving Sarah right now—it’s downright primal .

“I’ll send those questions to you as soon as I can, Kitty Kat,” Sarah says absently, not taking her eyes off her smoldering boyfriend. “Something tells me my hunky monkey boyfriend is gonna distract me from writing those questions for you for at least the next few hours.”