Page 459 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
Ash nudged me in the ribs. “What are you doing?!” she hissed. “I don’t want to know anything about his workouts. He looks like an angry erection!”
She wasn’t wrong. But the comparison felt unfair to erections, which were beautiful things. Scooter, on the other hand, was definitely not beautiful. His prematurely balding head looked so tiny on his massive body. Normally I’d be a little enticed by the SEX MACHINE tattoo…but not with Scooter. It just seemed like he was overcompensating.
“Sorry,” I whispered back. “It was the only thing I could think of to save Chad from getting Hulk-smashed.”
“What we whisper about?” asked Slavanka. “Ash like big beef man?”
“No,” said Ash. “No I most certainly do not.”
“He very strong,” said Slavanka. “He lift Chad so easy.” I’d never heard her sound so excited.
Does Slavanka think Scooter is hot?I was all for big muscles. But Scooter was just too much. And more importantly, there was about a 100% chance that he had the world’s tiniest little baby penis.
Or maybe the world’s second tiniest penis. The way Trent had introduced himself made me think he might take home the gold in that particular contest.
“Alright,” said Chad once Scooter had put him down and he’d had ample time to fix his hair in the reflection of one of the non-broken windows of the Lambo. “Everyone ready to get going?”
“Yup,” I said. “I just have to change first. How fancy should I go? Are we talking like…a blouse and slacks? Or is it more of a day dress kinda place?”
“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” said Trent. “Just make sure you packed an extra pair of panties, because yours are gonna be soaked by this display of pure masculine power and agility.”
I pressed my thighs together. “Wow. I’ve never heard a spa described that way, but you’ve certainly piqued my interest.” I pictured myself at the center of a Cirque du Soleil type performance, with various nude masseurs trapezing down to rub me in all the right places.
“We’re not going to a spa,” said Trent. “We’re going to the badminton court. The Wigglesworth Woodshots challenged us to a match. We would have had to forfeit, but now that Chad’s back, the match is on. And it’s going to beepic.”
“What happened to us seeing a display of pure masculine power and agility?” I asked.
Trent looked confused. “What do you mean? I just told you. You get to watch us play badminton.”
“Hmmm…that’s gonna be a hard pass for me.” But he’d gotten me all excited to watch hot dudes doing something manly. “Let’s go to the football game instead. They’re playing Cornell today, right?”
“Yeah, but…” started Trent.
“Babe, please don’t make us forfeit to the Wigglesworth Woodshots,” said Chad. “We’ll be legends if we beat them.”
Really? Will you?Because I was pretty sure no badminton match had ever made someone a legend. The only thing legendary about it would be seeing Scooter hold a tiny little racket in his big beefy hands. But staring at hot football players still sounded a million times better. “I guess I can watch your match. It’s just a shame that I won’t get to wear the sexy cheerleader outfit that I brought. And you know how horny I get eating hotdogs…”
“Okay, we’re going to the football game,” said Chad.
“Thanks, babe!” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Can you grab my suitcases out of the cargo hold?”
“Sure thing.” He walked over to the plane and opened the hold. Ghost tumbled out and nearly knocked him over. And for the second time today, Chad screamed bloody murder.
I didn’t know when he’d started doing this high-pitched scream, but I was not loving it.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s just Ghostie.”
“What the hell was he doing in the cargo hold?”
I shrugged. “I think he likes it down there or something. You know how Ghostie gets. Always being so extra.”
Ghost growled.
Chad took a moment to compose himself and then crawled into the hold.
“Which suitcase is it?” he called back to me.
“The pink one.”
