Page 27 of Rastor

I shoved a hand through my hair. "Yeah, but–" I gave Brittney a hard look. "It was supposed to go a lot better."

For one thing, it wasn't supposed to include naked nipples and shaved privates.

Brittney threw back the blanket, and tapped her bare foot against the tile floor. The tapping made her boobs jiggle like jelly-filled balloons on a bumpy carnival ride. One bearded lady, and the freak show would be complete.

I glanced down at Brittney's crotch. No beard. Even my freak show was too freaky to be normal. Damn it.

Brittney stopped tapping long enough to give Chloe a half-hearted look. "So you do accept my apology or what?"

"Hell no," Chloe said. "That was the worst apology, ever."

"Hey, it was my first one," Brittney said. "I thought I did pretty good." She turned to me and asked, "Didn't I?"

I crossed my arms. "No."

Chloe was staring Brittney with narrowed eyes. "Just how long have you been here, anyway?"

Brittney turned to give me a long look, filled with sin and sex. "Hard to say," she purred. "We kind of lost track."

My fingers flexed. I wanted to choke the truth out of her and then toss her out on her nearly naked ass. "That's it," I told her. "Get out."

She shrank back. "But I'm not dressed!"

Like I cared. "Whatever. Keep the blanket. Just get out."

"But I don't have my car," she whined.

I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out my cell phone. I texted the driver, who'd been on standby for hours now. Almost instantly, there was a knock at the door. I flung it open. And there he was, the driver, dressed in his company uniform.

"Take her wherever," I said.

The driver glanced to Chloe and said, "Yes sir."

I stifled a curse. "Nother." I pointed to Brittney. "Her."

It's not like I blamed the guy. Brittney, was, after all, mostly naked, and it wasn't exactly normal to send a naked girl packing.

The driver looked to Brittney. "Of course."

Brittney was sputtering now. "But I'm not even dressed!"

"Not my problem," I said.

She turned pleading eyes on the driver. "Can you believe this?"

I'd paid the guy in advance, along with a generous tip. With what I was paying him, he'd believe exactly what I wanted him to believe.

Sure enough, he stepped aside and held open the front door. "Right this way, ma'am."

Brittney was glaring at him. "Ma'am? Did you just seriously call me 'ma'am'?"

"Yes ma'am." He held open the door wider. "Right this way, please."

Brittney tossed back her hair. "Oh," she said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "well aren'tyoujust so polite?"

I stepped toward her and said, "Listen, gripe all you want. But youareleaving. By car, or by foot. Your choice."

She gave me a pleading look. "You can't be serious."