Page 472 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
“Then what do you wear?”
“I prefer more coverage,” she whispered. “Thongs are a breeding ground for bacteria. They touchtoomuch.”
Too much what?And what college girl didn’t own a drawer of thongs? We really needed to go shopping. I turned to Slavanka. “I need your thong then.”
“No thong.”
“Slavanka, it’s of the utmost importance.”
“No thong. Underwear waste of money.”
Seriously?What was wrong with my friends? It was like we were all in on honoring General Orville Thunderstick III. But no bother, I had a backup plan.
The limo pulled to a stop and we all got out in front of a rowhouse. A few Greek letters sat above the front door.
I rubbed my hands together. “Two cucumbers, a thong, and a dildo coming right up.” I started to walk to the door, but Chad grabbed my arm.
“You got us a ride here,” he said. “Now it’s our turn to work our magic.”
“Yeah,” agreed Scooter. He turned to Chad. “Think you can reach that second-floor window if I give you a lift?”
Chad laughed. “There’s no need to break in when you have a face like mine. Watch and learn.” Chad strode up to the door with so much swagger.
Is he actually gonna pull this off?I got as close as I could without it being obvious that I was listening.
He rang the doorbell and some sorority girl answered. “Yes?”
“Hey,” he said, casually leaning against the door jamb. “It’s your lucky day.”
She stared at him.
He pulled four tickets out of his pocket and fanned them out. “I’ve got four tickets to the biggest badminton match of the season. And if you play your cards right, they could be yours. Wanna know how?”
“No.”
“To win, you just have to guess how big my cock is. I’ll even give you three guesses. But you have to submit your guesses in theform of two cucumbers and a dildo. Oh, and I need one of your thongs too. As a way to remember who guessed what.”
She slapped him and slammed the door shut.
“How’d it go?” I called to him.
He shook his head. “The girls here hate fun. Let’s try a different sorority.”
“Mind if I try?”
“Be my guest. But you’re wasting your time. If I can’t charm them, no one can.”
Being charming was different than being pervy. My insignificant other sometimes acted so basic. I switched spots with Chad and rang the doorbell.
The same girl answered.
“Hey,” I said. “I need your help.”
“Oh God. Please tell me that pervert hasn’t taken the streets to try to give out his lame badminton tickets.”
I laughed. “What? No. I was just looking for…Jessica.”
“Oh, okay. One sec.” She ran off and started yelling for Jessica. It had been a bit of a gamble, but in high school I’d had at least 3 Jessicas in every class. There had to be at least one in this sorority. And apparently there was, because Jessica had justcome to the door. Hopefully that other girl hadn’t warned her about the badminton pervert looking for cucumbers and thongs.
