She sighed. “A cherry-vanilla latte. Actually, make it iced, with extra—” She caught my look and gave me a little eye roll. “Just tell them it’s for Katie.”
I texted the order to Jude, then tucked away my phone and rubbed the dog’s head. He licked me, decided I was cool and wandered off into the kitchen.
“Max really likes you,” she said. “He’s usually kind of, um, indifferent toward guys.”
She hugged herself as I scanned her outfit. Pink pajama pants with hearts all over them, a green tank top and mismatched socks. Not a woman expecting company.
She followed me into the tiny kitchen and poked her nose in the bag I set on the counter. “Oh, God. Juice!” She moaned orgasmically as she dug the carton out of the bag.
I grinned. “Playing hooky today?”
“Nope. Threw up an hour ago.” She swatted Max out of the way and pulled a couple of lidless mason jars from a cupboard, then sloshed the orange juice into the jars and handed one to me. “Cheers,” she said, bumping her jar to mine and throwing the juice back.
I took a swig and watched her throat work as she chugged. There was a conspicuous hickey on one side of her neck which I vaguely remembered putting there when she pretty much dared me to. Apparently the girl got mouthy when she got drunk, and since I wasn’t known for backing down from a dare—a good dare—it was a dangerous combo. A fucking fun combo.
I unpacked the groceries and watched Katie down a second helping of juice. Despite how wrecked she was, she did hungover well. Kind of adorably disheveled, her hair piled into a messy knot-bun thing, loose strands sticking to her face. She did look a little pale, but other than that, cute as ever.
She was also braless, which didn’t hurt. I could make out the exact shape of the perfect handful of her breasts, her nipples hard against the thin cotton. My dick definitely liked that. The pajama pants sat low, showing a slice of creamy skin, the sexy indent of her hips and the lacy edge of her white panties—
She smushed a little burp against the back of her hand and shot me a regretful look. “’Scuse me. I feel so gross. How much did I drink last night?”
I might’ve laughed if she wasn’t in such a sorry state. “I cut you off around four a.m., so you do the math.”
“Ugh.”
“You haven’t eaten?”
“Kind of afraid to.”
“Sit your ass down.” I started searching the kitchen for what I needed. The cupboards were old and worn and the dishes mismatched but in order, everything in tidy stacks and rows.
“Make yourself at home,” she grumbled, but pulled a stool up to the little bar and sat. Max curled up at her feet.
“If I was gonna do that, sweetheart, I’d be naked.” I turned up the heat under a pan and unwrapped the bacon. “Lucky for you, I’m cooking bacon.”
“Which means?”
“The clothes stay on.”
“That is lucky,” she said dryly.
Maybe she was clueless on this, but her surliness did fuck all to diminish the cute. If anything it kinda spurred me on. Which definitely wasn’t my usual mode with women. Since pretty much puberty, and definitely since fame hit, I’d become pretty comfortable with women pursuingme.
In fact, Katie might’ve been the first woman to cross my path in years who wasn’t gunning for what she’d already decided I might be worth to her—namely my dick, the contents of my bank account, and/or one of my friends. I was pretty much ready to sales pitch this chick on why she should take my money.
“Kill me now,” she moaned. “Dehydration hurts.” I watched her rub her little nose. In the morning light coming through the window, it had a smattering of tiny freckles on it like gold dust. “I feel like I snorted a fucking desert last night.” She poured herself another glass of juice.
“Drinking your body weight in booze can do that.”
She gave me a nasty, dirty look, which was beyond refreshing.
Yeah. Katie Bloom was all kinds of interesting.
Mainly because she didn’t seem to give one fuck who I was or what I did for a living. That much was clear from day one, at the video shoot. And damn if I didn’t like that about her even more now than I did then. Which was a lot. Enough to kiss her and send her a cherry pie afterward like some idiot with a crush.
Enough to know I should probably forget about her. Which I’d managed to do for a while.
But the success of theDirty Like Mevideo was too much to ignore. It was just more proof that the girl was something special… beyond just a cute face and a great set of tits.
