Suddenly everything in my head disappears with a jolt. My bathroom door slams open, and my eyes open wide. Oh Good Lord!
Cash freaking Hunter has dropped out of my fantasy and into my reality.
Chapter Four
Tori
‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ I screech, ducking down so violently water slops over the edges of the tub onto the floor. From my position where only my neck and head are visible above the soapsuds, I stare open-mouthed with a mixture of disbelief and reluctant admiration at him.
Oh my! So much gloriousness is on show. Obliques, traps, pecs, biceps, six pack. Actually, the whole works … everything is irritatingly tight, cut, evenly tanned and finished off in a gorgeous tattoo wrap of Maori art.
The life-size posters never did him justice. He was a boy then. This is a man’s body. And that V, that’s a V to beat all Vs. He’s wearing faded blue denim jeans with the top button unbuttoned, and wait, what? My eyes bulge like a freaking TSA inspector’s when he finds a restricted item in some poor guy’s baggage. Oh, my, God. His dick is massive.
And totally hard.
My senses reel out of control and I feel hot all over. I could be coming down with a fever.
‘This used to be my bathroom,’ he says conversationally, as he steps into the bathroom and closes the door.
His hair is endearingly sleep-mussed, and his lips are slightly swollen and red, the way children’s are when they first wake up, so it’s damn hard to remain infuriated and forbidding, especially when my insides are buzzing with wicked thoughts, but a lot is riding on this. My plan will crumble if I don’t put a stop to this right now. I need to get him out of my bathroom right this minute.
‘It’s not your bathroom anymore. If memory serves, the guest bedroom has an en-suite. So: kindly GET OUT.’
‘I didn’t come in here to take a piss, wildcat,’ he says, his eyes all hot and crazy.
Holy cow. ‘What?’
‘I’ve discovered I have a thing for ballsy girls. I’ve actually woken up with a raging hard-on.’
Is he freaking kidding? ‘You’re batshit crazy.’
He looks genuinely surprised. ‘Batshit crazy because I want to see my cock disappear into your sweet lips?’
‘How dare you?’
He gives me a smug, self-satisfied look. ‘How dare I? I just saw you stare at my cock like it was a lollipop you wanted to suck.’
I can feel color exploding up my neck and cheeks. I did make that a bit obvious. Fine, it was not a bit obvious, it was a get-in-my-mouth-right-now stare.
‘Any woman would have stared at an erect cock being shamelessly displayed less than five feet away from her,’ I counter as scornfully as possible in my circumstances.
He shakes his head slowly. ‘An uninterested woman would have looked away.’
‘You seem to be laboring under the mistaken impression that I’m interested in you. News flash: I’m not.’
He shrugs. ‘Why not?’
‘You’re not my type,’ I lie boldly.
‘Everyone wants a taste of celebrity cock,’ he states confidently.
See. There is merit to my plan and a method to my madness, after all. These are exactly the kinds of things that will eventually get me out of my crush. Rude, crude, pompous jerk. Like I’m lucky to be getting a chance at having his cock. A few more statements like this I can go home with my mancrush obliterated for good. To my joy I find myself gloriously angry with him.
‘I know you think you’re hotter than shit and irresistible to the entire female population, but some women don’t care for guys whose hobbies include throwing clothes-optional parties, fucking girls who don’t wear panties in toilet cubicles at concerts, and banging whatever crawls into their beds.’
‘For a girl who’s not interested you know a lot about me.’
‘It’s public knowledge. Cash don’t show up unless pussy is involved,’ I defend.
He grins. ‘You can strike off sex in toilet cubicles with chicks who don’t wear panties from your list. It lost its charm after a while.’
‘Whatever. Will you please get out?’
Instead of leaving he walks over and sits on the edge of the tub. ‘Give me one good reason I should.’
‘Karma is a bitch and you’ll have to pay the price of being an asshole?’
He laughs. ‘Don’t worry. This has a happy ending.’
‘Are you kidding me? One-night stands are not considered happy endings.’ I scoff.
‘What makes you think I’ll only need you for one night?’
I sigh elaborately. ‘Look. I work for your father and, shock horror, screwing his son’s brains out is not in the small print of my employment contract.’