The Josh and Kat Trilogy: A Bundle of Books 1-3

by Lauren Rowe

  Oh my God, I wanted to take Kat’s gorgeous face in my hands and stare into those icy-blue eyes that see right through me and tell her she blows me the fuck away, and not just in bed, but in every conceivable way—that I can’t find a goddamned fucking fault with her—that even her stubbornness and jealousy and evil make me want her that much more, more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman, in fact. That I can’t stand it when we’re apart. That she’s hilarious. And sweet. And honest. A force of nature. That she makes my heart physically hurt when she does nothing more than smile at me.

  I lean forward and stare at myself in the mirror. I’m trembling. Panting. Freaking out. I need to get a grip.

  I wanted to tell her I’m falling so fast and hard for her, I feel like I need a Dramamine. And a parachute. And a fucking last will and testament.

  Fuck.

  I stare at my blue eyes reflected back at me in the mirror.

  “Pull yourself together, man,” I say through gritted teeth. “Stop acting like a total puss.” I nod in reply to myself, take a deep breath, and slap my cheek hard—and then, once I feel like I’ve regained control of myself, I turn around and head back into my room.

  Sixty-Nine

  Josh

  When I emerge from my bathroom, there’s yet another James Bay song playing—this one, thankfully, in no danger of sending me into a tailspin. Kat’s sprawled naked on her stomach across my bed, looking like a wet dream, her long, toned limbs stretched across my mattress, her blonde hair unfurled across my pillow, her tight ass just begging to get spanked or bitten or fucked. Or all of the above. Jesus. I wouldn’t mind being greeted with this vision every time I come out of my bathroom.

  I crawl onto the bed and drape my body over hers, pressing my naked body into hers. “Hey, babe,” I say softly.

  She turns her head and rests her cheek on the pillow.

  “Hey,” she says softly. “Everything okay?”

  “Mmm hmm. Everything’s great.” I push her hair to one side and stroke the Scorpio tattoo on the back of her neck. “How are you?”

  “Good.”

  She squirms underneath me and I lift up, letting her turn onto her back so that we’re lying nose to nose, our bodies pressed together.

  “You look like you have one eye,” she says, pressing her nose into mine. “One very blue and beautiful eye.”

  “I’m Mike Wazowski,” I say.

  She laughs. “Why do you know that?”

  “Are you kidding me? I love Monsters, Inc.”

  She laughs. “You never cease to surprise me.”

  “Mike Wazowski!” I say in the voice of Boo. “Kitty!”

  “Admit it—you were stoned out of your mind when you watched that movie, weren’t you?”

  “No, as a matter of fact. I was, like, sixteen or something—still a very nice boy.”

  She laughs. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you.”

  I pause. “I was a very nice boy at one point, Kat—I went to see cartoon-movies in the theatre and everything.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  I pause. “Although, in the interest of the honesty-game, I watched Monsters, Inc. stoned out of my mind later on DVD.”

  She bursts out laughing and I join her. God, I’m fucking addicted to her. I can’t resist reaching out and touching her golden hair. It’s the color of straw. Spun gold. Sunshine. I stroke her hair for a moment and she purrs like a cat.

  “You blow me away, Kat—not just in bed. All the time. With everything you do and say.”

  She inhales sharply. “You blow me away, too.” Her face turns bright red.

  I suddenly feel like I’m on the verge of babbling every thought in my head again—all the stuff I was about to say a minute ago, before I escaped into the bathroom. Fuck me, I wanna tell her about Seattle.

  “All right, babe,” I say, rolling off her. “Enough talking about cartoons—we’ve got kinky-fuckery to talk about.”

  She laughs. “Nice transition.”

  I sit up in bed. “So here’s the deal, Heidi Kumquat. When I wrote my application to The Club I was in a totally different state of mind than I am now.”

  She nods. This is not news to her.

  I exhale. “Would you be terribly disappointed if we moved right into doing everything on your fantasy list and skipped the stuff I wrote about in my application to The Club?”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “Doing that shit now just feels like trying to relive my junior prom. Now all I wanna do is go to my senior prom—with you.”

  She grins. “Aw. You’re asking me to prom?”

  “So you’re not disappointed?” I ask. “You seemed pretty excited to be on the receiving end of all that shit in my application.”

  She shrugs. “Hey, if you’re not feeling it, then we don’t do it. And, anyway, I got to be a high-end call girl. That’s what I was really jonezing for.” She makes a checkmark motion in the air. “Plus, I unexpectedly got a bonus mini-porno out of it, too—watching you get all riled up at the thought of anyone but you touching me was utterly delicious.” She shoots me a wicked smile.

  “I knew it.”

  She laughs a full-throated laugh.

  “Diabolical,” I say, smiling. “Okay, cool. It’s settled. We’re doing your fantasies, baby.”

  She squeals with pleasure.

  “So this is how it’s gonna work. You’ll just go about your life, okay?—and sometimes shit will just start happening to you. And when it does, you’ll just play along. Don’t worry, you’ll totally know what to do because—” I slap my hands together hard, making her flinch. “Sorry. I just had a brilliant idea. I’ll be right back.” I leap out of bed and race to my hallway closet, my pulse pounding in my ears. Holy fuck, this is gonna be epic. I quickly find what I’m looking for and sprint back to my bed. “Open your hand, babe.” She does, and I place a poker chip in her palm. “Every time a fantasy is starting, you’ll get a poker chip just like this one. That way you’ll never be confused about whether a role-play is starting. You know, you won’t go, ‘Are you really a fireman? Is my house really burning down—or are you here to eat my pussy?”

  She laughs. “I don’t have a fireman fantasy—Colby’s a fireman. Too weird.”

  I roll my eyes. “It was just an example, babe. I know all your fantasies, remember? I took copious notes. I’m just saying the poker chip will be our secret signal so I’ll never need to say, ‘Hey, Kat, I’m doing a fantasy now.’ That way you can just relax and enjoy the ride and play along.”

  “But what if there really is a fire—using your example—and it happens after you’ve already given me the poker chip? You’d be like, ‘Fire, Kat! Fire!’ And I’d be like, ‘Oh, yeah, baby. I’m on fi-yah.’” She giggles.

  “Good point,” I say, laughing with her. “We should have a safe word in case we need to stop the role-play for any reason.”

  “Okay. How about ‘overcome’? Wasn’t that what you used with the women in The Club?”

  I wave my hands in dismissal. I don’t even want to think about those women right now. “That was then, babe—this is now. Our fantasy-sex-club is all about fun—not exorcising my fucking demons.”

  “Awesome,” she says, her eyes blazing. “How about ‘sick fuck,’ then?”

  “Babe. Did you not hear a word I just said? I’m over it. Plus, I kinda dig it when you call me a sick fuck. I wanna keep that phrase as fair game. You never know what you might scream when I’m fucking the shit out of you in a dental chair.”

  “Ooh.” She raises an eyebrow. “We’re gonna do the dentist thing?”

  “Oh my God, you’re a terrible listener. What’d I just say? Yes. We’re gonna do everything.”

  She squeals. “Oh my God. This is gonna be redonk.”

  “So what’s the safe word? It can be anything. Onomatopoeia.”

  She giggles. “Who’s the idiot who came up with that word? Who needs so many syllables to say ‘Bam!’?”

  I laugh.

/>   “Brouhaha?” she asks.

  “What the fuck? No. Weirdo.”

  She shrugs.

  We sit and think.

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” she offers.

  I jut my lip, considering it. “Since that’s the only thing I know how to make, in theory, it could come up.”

  “I truly cannot fathom how either of us would say ‘peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ while fucking, but okay, if you say so. How about ‘rainbows and unicorns’? That’ll never come out of my mouth, I guarantee you.”

  “Might come out of mine—you’re a total unicorn, babe. I could totally imagine myself blurting that in a moment of weakness. Even if I don’t say ‘rainbows’ along with it, it could still get confusing.”

  She laughs. “This shouldn’t be that hard.”

  I sit and think for a moment. “Flesh-eating bacteria,” I say.

  “Hell no. You’re demented to even suggest it. Come on. Dinosaur. Doorknob. Dandelion. Dungarees. Deedle-deedle-dee. Pick one.”

  I laugh. “No, hang on. I’m kinda digging ‘flesh-eating bacteria.’ I can’t imagine any sexual scenario in which those words would ever come up.”

  “As opposed to ‘dungarees’ or ‘dandelion’?” She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Josh. Spaghetti. Skateboard. Ballerina. Scooby Doo. Multi-vitamin. From Justin to Kelly. ‘My Little Pony.’ Hot tamale.”

  “Oh my God.” I hoot with glee. “From Justin to Kelly. Winner-winner-chicken-dinner.”

  Kat rolls her eyes. “What? No. I was totally kidding. Harry Potter. Chili-cheese fries. ‘Go big or go home.’ Hunky dory.”

  “Nope. We’ve got our winner. From Justin to Kelly it is.”

  She twists her mouth. “You’re a silly man.”

  I laugh.

  “You totally saw that movie, didn’t you?”

  “Hell yeah. It was part of initiation in my fraternity. I saw it during hell-week.”

  She laughs. “You got hazed with From Justin to Kelly?”

  I nod. “It was brutal.”

  She’s laughing her ass off. “Oh my God.”

  “So, hey, babe, there’s something I wanna run past you before we get started.”

  “Okay.”

  “In order to pull off some of your crazy-ass stuff, I might need to enlist a little help occasionally from third parties—not for anything sexual, obviously—never anything sexual—just in setting the stage for a scenario.”

  She makes a face. “Could you be more specific about how you define ‘setting the stage’?”

  “Not without giving things away.”

  There’s a long beat.

  “I promise you won’t be embarrassed or compromised in any way,” I say. “You’ll always be fully dressed. I just wanna make these imaginary-pornos as close as possible to what you described to me—and occasionally I think I might need to cast an extra or two to do it.”

  She beams a huge smile at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You’re adorable.”

  I scoff.

  “You are.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  She nods. “I’ve got a safe word, right? If I’ve got a problem with anything at any time, then I’ll use it.”

  “That’s right, babe. You can always count on From Justin to Kelly to protect you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, Joshua. You’re a silly, silly man.”

  I laugh.

  “And a very sweet one, too.”

  Seventy

  Josh

  “Why don’t you shower in my bathroom while I use the shower in the guest room?” I suggest as Kat and I walk into my house. We’ve just come in from an awesome day of hiking and climbing rocks in Malibu and we’re both covered in a thick sheen of sweat and dirt. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and answer a few work emails before we head back out.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Sounds good.”

  “Feel free to use the sauna in my bathroom, if you want.” I look at my watch. “We’ve got just under an hour before we need to leave to make our reservation. This place is impossible to get into, so we can’t be late.”

  “Hey, you probably take longer than I do, Mr. Exfoliate and Moisturize.”

  “You’ve only got one skin, Kat,” I say.

  She laughs.

  I show her where the towels are and leave her to get to it and then race out of my room to make a phone call in the guest room.

  “Hello?” the woman on the other end of the line says.

  My pulse is pounding in my ears. “Hey, Kaitlyn. This is Josh Faraday. Just calling to confirm we’re still on for tonight?”

  “Yeah.” She exhales. “I really can’t emphasize enough how much trepidation I have about this. I’m really putting my faith in Reed. He said you’re a great guy and that I can trust you completely, so I’m taking a gigantic leap of faith. Please don’t make me regret this.”

  “Oh, I know this is a huge favor—and I’m really grateful. Reed isn’t steering you wrong. I’m totally trustworthy. I paid close attention at our walk-through-orientation on Tuesday, and I’ll be ridiculously careful and respectful with all your stuff, just like you showed me, I promise. If I break anything, no matter how slightly, I’ll replace it with a brand new model—and I won’t touch any of the stuff you told me is off limits. Like I said, this is more for show than anything—I just wanna set the stage for her—really wow her when she opens her eyes for the first time.”

  Kaitlyn clicks her tongue. “Just, please. This could go horribly wrong a thousand ways.”

  I don’t like the anxious tone in her voice. God help me if this woman does an about-face and changes her mind. “Hey, how ’bout I throw another ten grand your way, just to say thank you and put your mind at ease?”

  “Whoa. Really?”

  “Yeah. Maybe the price we originally agreed upon was too low. It’s not like there’s a market for this kind of rental. I don’t want you feeling taken advantage of.”

  “Wow, thanks.” Her voice is noticeably warmer. “Yeah, another ten grand would definitely put me at ease. Thanks. You still want me to burst in on you at ten?”

  I laugh. “Hell yeah, I do. That’s a critical part of my girl’s fantasy. I’ll time everything on my end so we’ll be ready for you exactly at ten. I’ll leave your plastic sword outside the door.”

  “Your girlfriend’s got quite the imagination.”

  “Yeah, she does,” I say, smiling to myself. I like hearing the words “your girlfriend” in reference to Kat.

  “You’re sure you wanna do the whole sword-fight-thing? I still think it’s gonna be more comedic than sexy, Josh.”

  “Yeah, I gotta do it. My girlfriend’s gonna love it.”

  Kaitlyn exhales. “Okay. If you insist.”

  “My girl’s got this bizarre little script in her head. I’ve gotta stick to it.”

  “Okay,” Kaitlyn says. “To each her own.”

  “So we’re good, then?”

  “Yep. We’re good.”

  “What time can we come?”

  “Any time. The place is ready for you now. I’ll text the door-code to you. Oh, and I bought some brand new feather ticklers for you to use. They’re on that rack I showed you to use—the one next to the harness.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  “Please don’t touch anything but what I showed you.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  She exhales audibly for the hundredth time during this short conversation. “Josh, I know we already talked about this, but it bears repeating: Don’t try to push things too far. You don’t have a clue what you’re doing and she’s a total newbie. The shock value of the place is gonna be the main thing, okay? Don’t try anything other than what I explained to you or else you’re gonna hurt or scare her.”

  “I promise. Thank you. This is just gonna be about role-play. Nothing hardcore, I promise.”

  “Please don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t.”
<
br />   She pauses. “So can you bring the extra money tonight? All cash?”

  “Yup. No problem. I’ll put it outside the door with your sword.”

  “Thanks. You’re absolutely sure about that damned sword?”

  “Positive. It’s in the script. Gotta do it.” I chuckle. “See you in a bit.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  Seventy-One

  Kat

  I lean into the mirror to apply a light sheen of gloss to my lips. I scrutinize my eye shadow. Maybe I should add a little more shimmer to my—

  The door to the bathroom bursts wide open.

  A black-clad figure in a ski mask lunges at me.

  I shriek at the top of my lungs.

  But before I can move or react beyond screaming in terror, the blackened figure grabs my hand and places something in my palm. I look down, my throat burning and my hand trembling. A poker chip. Holy shitballs. Every single drop of blood in my body whooshes into my crotch, all at once. Is it possible to have a heart attack and orgasm at the same time?

  I look back up at the menacing figure in the ski mask, but before I can react further, he wraps me into a stifling bear hug, sending the unmistakable scent of Josh’s cologne into my nostrils.

  “No!” I shout, wiggling and squirming in my deliciously scented attacker’s arms. “Let me go!”

  But the brute won’t be deterred. He grabs my wrists roughly and slaps soft cuffs on them, immobilizing me with his strong arms as he does.

  “No!” I shout again, trying desperately to free myself from the dreaded cuffs. “Let me go!” I squirm and writhe with all my might, but, goddammit, I can’t free myself from my bindings or my attacker’s strong arms. (Yay!)