last one I guess. Just read the description for the number one book, let's start there."
" Ashley, the only virgin in her freshman dorm …" He stops and looks up at me. "Seriously?"
"Keep going, it sounds good." My team is having a hard time hiding their amusement now.
"… is desperate to be deflowered by long-time crush, Eaton Fuller . Eaton? What kind of name is that?"
"Says the guy named Ford."
" But that's before hot and dangerous Rowdy Breaker saves her from a spelunking adventure gone wrong . This is stupid. Spelunking gone wrong? It's so cliché."
"One-click that sucker, Ford. Any guy called Rowdy has gotta be hot. You don't get to be number one for no reason. I'll read about Rowdy and his cave-dwelling tendencies. Hand it over."
"We're done here, no time for books, Rook."
"Done? You just started!"
Ford laughs.
I look down and if this suit was real, it'd be nothing but a bunch of rope winding around my body in strategic places. None of which happens to cross my private parts. "This isn't a bathing suit, it's rope. I look like I'm being tied up for… Oh."
They are all laughing at me now.
"Come on," Spencer says. "I'll walk you up."
"Are you modeling with me this time, too?"
Snickers from Team Everybody.
"What?"
"Nope, not me this time, Rook. Billy's got this privilege."
Billy is the sexiest cowboy I've ever seen. I've never pretended the guy wasn't gorgeous to look at, because he is very easy on the eyes. But sporting all that western gear, the tight jeans, the hat, the chaps, and the boots, in combination with a new rough expression I've never seen him wear before, plus his bare chest, makes him look like he's about to bind my wrists and take me from behind.
Whew. I have to stop and take a breath after that thought.
This bike is a work of art. It's got a custom seat shaped like a western saddle and an entire scene depicting a bad-boy cowboy meets helpless half-naked female airbrushed on the top of the fat tank. The whole frame is a smoky black with barbed-wire running down the fenders like racing stripes.
"Wow."
"I love this bike, Rook," Spencer says as he stands next to me. "I've been waiting to get decent images of this one and put it online. It's not a showroom model, but a one-of-a-kind custom. I'll be sorry to sell it actually." He laughs a little under his breath. "Until I get the check, that is. Because this one's a sweet ninety-five grand."
Holy shit.
"Over here, Rook," Josie calls.
I walk over to the salon and she removes the makeup from the last shoot and reapplies. I get another wig, only this time it's Farrah Fawcett à la Charlie's Angels hair, all frosted blonde highlights in big bouncy curls that fall halfway down my back. I get the natural look as far as makeup goes, and then I slip my feet into the cowgirl boots and plop the hat on my head.
When I walk back over to the guys Spencer buckles a gun holster around my waist and then slides two revolvers inside.
So I'm wearing boots, guns, and a hat. And my body has been painted to look like I've been tied up.
When I look up to see what's next, every mouth is hanging open.
Except Antoine's, because he's just coming out of his office, trying to pretend I'm fully clothed.
"What're you assholes looking at? I've been walking around here naked all day, quit it!"
They mumble out some incomprehensible words as I walk over to Billy.
He's smiling. "That is fucking hot for some reason. I'm not sure why, it just is, Rook."
I shrug. "You're pretty hot too, Billy. Maybe it's the hats?"
He chuckles. "Yeah, the hats. OK, for this one you're my bitch. So bend the fuck over the seat, ass to the camera, and let me whack you a few good ones so your cheeks turn pink."
" What ?"
"I'm kidding, Rook." He sits down on the western saddle seat and pulls me toward him. "Just sit in my lap to start, wrists together, because if you do that, you'll see it looks like I've bound you up."
I put my wrists together, then Billy reaches down and
" Ashley, the only virgin in her freshman dorm …" He stops and looks up at me. "Seriously?"
"Keep going, it sounds good." My team is having a hard time hiding their amusement now.
"… is desperate to be deflowered by long-time crush, Eaton Fuller . Eaton? What kind of name is that?"
"Says the guy named Ford."
" But that's before hot and dangerous Rowdy Breaker saves her from a spelunking adventure gone wrong . This is stupid. Spelunking gone wrong? It's so cliché."
"One-click that sucker, Ford. Any guy called Rowdy has gotta be hot. You don't get to be number one for no reason. I'll read about Rowdy and his cave-dwelling tendencies. Hand it over."
"We're done here, no time for books, Rook."
"Done? You just started!"
Ford laughs.
I look down and if this suit was real, it'd be nothing but a bunch of rope winding around my body in strategic places. None of which happens to cross my private parts. "This isn't a bathing suit, it's rope. I look like I'm being tied up for… Oh."
They are all laughing at me now.
"Come on," Spencer says. "I'll walk you up."
"Are you modeling with me this time, too?"
Snickers from Team Everybody.
"What?"
"Nope, not me this time, Rook. Billy's got this privilege."
Billy is the sexiest cowboy I've ever seen. I've never pretended the guy wasn't gorgeous to look at, because he is very easy on the eyes. But sporting all that western gear, the tight jeans, the hat, the chaps, and the boots, in combination with a new rough expression I've never seen him wear before, plus his bare chest, makes him look like he's about to bind my wrists and take me from behind.
Whew. I have to stop and take a breath after that thought.
This bike is a work of art. It's got a custom seat shaped like a western saddle and an entire scene depicting a bad-boy cowboy meets helpless half-naked female airbrushed on the top of the fat tank. The whole frame is a smoky black with barbed-wire running down the fenders like racing stripes.
"Wow."
"I love this bike, Rook," Spencer says as he stands next to me. "I've been waiting to get decent images of this one and put it online. It's not a showroom model, but a one-of-a-kind custom. I'll be sorry to sell it actually." He laughs a little under his breath. "Until I get the check, that is. Because this one's a sweet ninety-five grand."
Holy shit.
"Over here, Rook," Josie calls.
I walk over to the salon and she removes the makeup from the last shoot and reapplies. I get another wig, only this time it's Farrah Fawcett à la Charlie's Angels hair, all frosted blonde highlights in big bouncy curls that fall halfway down my back. I get the natural look as far as makeup goes, and then I slip my feet into the cowgirl boots and plop the hat on my head.
When I walk back over to the guys Spencer buckles a gun holster around my waist and then slides two revolvers inside.
So I'm wearing boots, guns, and a hat. And my body has been painted to look like I've been tied up.
When I look up to see what's next, every mouth is hanging open.
Except Antoine's, because he's just coming out of his office, trying to pretend I'm fully clothed.
"What're you assholes looking at? I've been walking around here naked all day, quit it!"
They mumble out some incomprehensible words as I walk over to Billy.
He's smiling. "That is fucking hot for some reason. I'm not sure why, it just is, Rook."
I shrug. "You're pretty hot too, Billy. Maybe it's the hats?"
He chuckles. "Yeah, the hats. OK, for this one you're my bitch. So bend the fuck over the seat, ass to the camera, and let me whack you a few good ones so your cheeks turn pink."
" What ?"
"I'm kidding, Rook." He sits down on the western saddle seat and pulls me toward him. "Just sit in my lap to start, wrists together, because if you do that, you'll see it looks like I've bound you up."
I put my wrists together, then Billy reaches down and
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