“That’s price-fixing, Argentina—and, news flash, it’s illegal.”
“In the U.S., maybe, but I’ve got dual citizenship.” She crosses her gorgeous legs and juts her spectacular chest at me. “You call it price-fixing, but where I come from, we call it ‘Wednesday night.’”
Oh my God, she’s the sexiest woman alive.“This is highway robbery,” I say playfully, a huge smile plastered across my face.
Samantha shrugs. “Okay, then, I guess we’ll just talk about the weather. Gosh, I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow night when you take me to dinner because I’m planning on wearing a dress with not a whole lot of fabric covering righthere.” She places her palm on her spectacular chest, right below the cute little flight-attendant scarf tied around her neck.
Oh my God, I want her.“And to think you started out tonight so demure and shy,” I say, my voice turning husky. “What the fuck happened to you? It turns out you’re an Argentinian shark underneath that pretty veneer. Good God, you’re more of a shark than most lawyers I know.”
“So make me a counter-offer, then.”
“Nah, I don’t need to make you a counter-offer, sweetheart—I agree to your terms. I would have agreed to anything. I was bluffing.”
She giggles. “Good to know.”
“But only because I’m so damned motivated to putyou—I mean, excuse me, thisdeal—tobed.”
She shoots me a look that could flash-melt an ice cube. “Yet again, it all comes back to your master plan.”
“Always.”
“So tell me your ‘slightly embarrassing’ story first,” she says. “Show me how it’s done.”
I tell her the ‘slightly embarrassing’ story of the time my pants split down the front at prom, right after I’d been named prom king, as a matter of fact, as I attempted to perform aSaturday-Night-Fever-inspired splits-maneuver in celebration of my royal victory, and my dick popped out of my pants and dangled under the stage lights in front of the entire student body—and she laughs her beautiful ass off.
“Oh my God. How were you onlyslightlyembarrassed?” she asks. “I would have been traumatized for life.”
“Bah. No biggie. Thankfully, by then, I’d been in enough locker rooms to know my dong had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.” I wink.
She rolls her eyes. “And now we’re right back to you being a sex god.”
“Always.”
“How the heck did your dong pop out of your pants in the first place? You weren’t wearing underwear?”
“Of course, not. A dude can’t wear underwear with leather pants.”
“Oh my God. This story just keeps getting better and better. You woreleatherpants to prom?”
“I thought I looked like Lenny Kravitz—which is coincidental, seeing as how I had the exact same wardrobe malfunction Lenny did, just a decade before he did. I’m telling you, ten years later, Lenny totally stole my moves—in more ways than one, actually.”
“Oh, yeah. I saw that photo of poor Lenny.” She smirks. “He had nothing to be embarrassed about, either.”
“See how that works? Dudes with confidence let our dongs fly. No shame in our game.”
She giggles. “Will you pretty-please bring a prom photo with you tomorrow night? I’m dying to see your leather pants. But, please, bring a shot frombeforethe Big Dong Reveal—I have no desire to see your underage peen.”
“It’s okay—it wouldn’t be kiddie porn. I’d just turned eighteen.”
“No, thanks. I have no interest in teenage peen, whether it’s legal or not.”
“I’m just teasing. I don’t actually have a dong-shot. Just a fully dressed prom photo which I’ll happily bringifyou’ll promise to bring yours. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? And we’ll also exchange prom photos.”
“No-can-do. I went to an all-girl’s school, remember? We didn’t have a prom. In fact, I didn’t go to a single school dance after that one I told you about.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I didn’t get asked. But neither did any of my best friends, including Charlotte, so I didn’t feel like too big a loser.”
