Page 17 of Revelation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #2)

JOSH

“ G o, Henny! Go, Henny!” Kat chants, shaking her ass, and I laugh.

As we make our way down the hallway to my room, Kat’s re-enacting the way Henn danced tonight on the dance floor at Reed’s club, and she’s doing an uncannily accurate impression.

I join her in doing “The Henn” and she practically falls over, laughing.

“Man, that white boy can dance,” she says.

“Well, he thinks he can, anyway,” I say.

“When it comes to dancing, isn’t that all that matters?” she counters.

“No.” I laugh. “Not at all.”

She laughs.

“It’s Reed’s personal mission to get Henn to dance every time he sees him,” I say. “Reed says watching Henn dance is his own personal happy place.”

“Well, yeah. Reed made that pretty clear,” Kat retorts.

“‘Dance, puppet-boy, dance,’” she says, imitating what Reed said to Henn all night long.

She giggles. “You three together are just like my brothers—I felt right at home. And Will sure fit right in with you guys as the fourth musketeer, didn’t he? ”

“Love that guy.”

“He reminds me of my little brother Dax.”

“I’d like to meet your brothers,” I say, and the minute I do, I want to stuff the words back into my mouth. Who just said that? Was that me ? Dude. Saying you want to meet a girl’s family is not a casual thing. “Maybe some day,” I add .

She bites her lip. “Sure. Some day.”

We’ve arrived at my room. I swipe the key card and motion to her to enter first. Shit.

My heart is racing. I’ve got to watch myself.

Slow my shit down. It’s one thing to be feeling like this in Las Vegas, but her family’s in Seattle—in real life.

Who knows what the future holds when we leave the bubble of this place?

“Where should I put this?” she asks, holding up the duffel bag with her toothbrush and change of clothes we picked up from her room before coming to mine.

“Well, in the bedroom, of course,” I say, grinning and she smiles broadly at me. I put her bag in my bedroom and come back out to the sitting area.

“Something to drink, Party Girl?” I ask, moving to the bar.

“Just water. I know I’m not living up to my nickname, but you’re absolutely killing me.”

“Water it is,” I say, moving to the bar. “Your liver just sent you a thank you note.”

“ Gracias, senor .” She flops down on the couch in the sitting area. “So what were you and Will talking about on the way to Reed’s club—something about you helping Will’s dad with something?”

“Oh, nothing major. I’m just gonna see if I can do Will’s dad a favor, make a few calls,” I say, grabbing water bottles from the minibar.

“About what?”

“It’s no big deal. He’s worried his dad is making some bad investments with a buddy—maybe even getting conned by someone he trusts. I’m gonna snoop around and see what I can find out for him.”

“Wow. That’s nice of you. You seem to do a lot of favors for people,” she says.

I push her blonde hair behind her shoulder. “Only for people I like a lot.” I bite her shoulder and she giggles in response.

“Is that why Will got that ass-tattoo tonight—as payment for the favor you’re gonna do for his dad?”

I laugh. “Hell no. He was just inspired by our deep and profound conversation at dinner to get the stupidest tattoo I’ve ever seen in my entire life, bar none.”

She giggles again. “Why didn’t you join him? I thought Josh Faraday’s never seen a stupid tattoo he didn’t like. What happened to the barbed wire you were gonna get to complete your ‘social suicide’ trifecta?”

“I chickened out. I guess even I’ve got my limits.” I shrug. “Or maybe I just wasn’t drunk enough.”

“I swear I’ve never laughed so hard as when Will dropped his drawers right in front of all of us and got that ridiculous thing. He took the drunken tattoo to a whole new level tonight.”

“Yeah, if getting a stupid tattoo is actually deep in a twisted sort of way, then 2Real is one incredibly profound motherfucker.” I chuckle. “I should sic Jonas on the guy and watch what happens.”

Kat laughs. “I’m sure they’d totally hit it off.”

“No, Jonas would quote Plato to Will all night long and poor Will would be like, ‘Um, can you bring back the dumb Faraday now? He was a lot more fun.’”

“You’re not the dumb Faraday.”

“Compared to Jonas, I sure as hell am. My brother is ridiculously brilliant—a whiz with numbers, amazing at solving puzzles, always thinking about something deep and meaningful, unlike me. And the boy’s got vision . My mom always called him magic.”

Kat bites her lip. “You’re magic, too, Josh.”

I blush. “Not like Jonas. Now, don’t get me started on what a complete and total dumbshit Jonas is about people and life in general,” I continue, “and especially about relationships—that’s a whole other story.

The boy’s a fucking tool. But, man, Jonas—now there’s a magical beast of a dumbshit of a man. ”

She’s listening to me intently. Damn, she’s so fucking beautiful. I could sit and look at her all day, every day, and never get tired of her face. I put my fingertip over the slight cleft in her chin and she smiles shyly.

“So enough about my idiot-genius brother,” I say softly. “Are you ever gonna tell me what you thought of my application? We haven’t been alone for two minutes since Henn woke us up and I’ve been dying to hear what you think.”

She presses her lips together. “You wanna hear what I think, huh?”

I nod, my stomach clenching .

“Well, first off...” She looks up at the ceiling, apparently gathering her thoughts. “Well, first, let’s just get this out of the way: I don’t think you’re a sick fuck.” She smiles. “But if you are, then I don’t care.”

I’m tingling all over. I thought she’d say that, based on the way she fell asleep in my arms after reading it last night, but it sure feels good to hear her say it out loud.

“Well, okay, maybe you’re a teeny-tiny bit of a sick fuck,” she amends, “but I like that about you.”

My cock stretches its arms and yawns inside my pants.

“Secondly, I think that, whatever you did to those women in The Club for a month?” She levels me with her sparkling blue eyes. “I want you to do it to me, too— exactly the way you did it to them.”

Oh shit. My cock just sat upright in bed and yelled, ‘Do I smell coffee?’”

There’s a long beat as I process what she just said.

She grins broadly. “I also think... as long as you’re gonna show me your fantasies, without holding back, then, maybe, if you’re willing... ” She takes a deep breath. “Maybe I could show you mine?” Again, she bites her lip. “Because I’m actually a bit of a sick fuck myself.”

My cock is now doing jumping jacks on the floor next to its bed. “I’d love that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “What are your fantasies? In your ‘application’, you mentioned a bodyguard fantasy and some sort of captive fantasy?”

She nods. “Yeah. Actually, I think the captive fantasy might be pretty consistent with your saving-the-raped-girl fantasy. We might be able to do a two-for-one there.”

I shift in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure on my cock. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” I say.

She takes a deep breath. “Really? You want the whole thing?”

I nod. “Of course. Tell me the whole damned thing.”

She beams a smile at me that stops my heart.

“Okay, well, um, let’s start with my captive fantasy.

” She looks giddy. “Well, I’m held captive by a horribly dangerous man who captured me in order to make me his sex slave.

But then, after taking me—sensuously, not violently, by the way—he winds up falling desperately in love with me—and then after a while another bad guy comes to kidnap me, also intending to make me his sex slave, of course, and my original captor fends him off in a sword fight—”

“A sword fight?”

“Yeah, my fantasy kind of toggles between present day and a kind of historical-fiction-locked-in-a-dungeon kind of thing.”

“Interesting.”

“Anyway, when the second bad guy is finally dead, my original captor unties me and says I can go, because now he cares about me too much to keep me as his prisoner. It’s like if you love something, set it free, you know?

But I don’t want to go—in fact, all I want to do is stay and fuck him for hours and hours—so that’s what we do, only this time, without the bondage, because now it’s my choice to stay and that’s what makes it so sexy. ”

I’m in a daze listening to her, completely shocked.

There’s a beat.

I suddenly realize she’s not talking anymore.

“So, that’s it,” she declares, filling the silence.

“Wow,” I say. “That was quite a bit more... detailed than I was expecting.”

She shrugs. “I fantasize in Technicolor—what can I say?”

I laugh. “It’s like a mini-porno.”

“ Exactly . Yes. A mini-porno starring me .”

“And you’ve got more of these mini-pornos bouncing around in your head?”

“Tons.”

“And who are the guys who play opposite you in these pornos?”

“Well, depending on the mini-porno-fantasy, it could be any number of fantasy-guys—Channing Tatum gets cast a lot; Charlie Hunman makes appearances quite frequently; this hot married guy who works at the bank.” She blushes.

“But that was all before I saw you standing in that hallway in your wet briefs. Lately, there’s only one star of all my imaginary-mini-pornos: Joshua William Faraday. ”

I smile and so does she.

“So you think my captor-fantasy would work with your saving-the-girl fantasy?” she asks. “Or is it too weird to mix and match?”

“I think that would work just fine.” I shift again. My cock is throbbing in my pants. “And what about the bodyguard fantasy? Is it pretty detailed, too? ”