Page 33 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Glancing at the girls, both of them sway their bodies in unison as if they’re extras on the set ofDirty Dancing, it just enforces that I don’t want to be here. Especially when Ben sticks his chubby fingers between his chubby lips and wolf whistles.
“See?” he prompts, practically bouncing in his seat. “She wants me.”
I chuckle, then lie. “I think you’re right.”
“You know the other one?”
“Nah, not really. I met her in the elevator today.”
“Lucky. Son. Of. A. Bitch.”
Ben’s definition of luck is grossly different from mine. Luck is winning the lotto, catching a cancer diagnosis before it becomes inoperable, or finding a four-leafed clover. Having to share a cabin on a cruise ship for a few weeks with a stranger is not the result of luck, and neither is meeting Brittany in an elevator the size of a shoe box.
“I’ll be between her legs before daylight,” he says before chugging his whiskey and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
I can’t help myself and finally burst into uncontrollable laughter. “You’re delusional.”
His head drops, showcasing his second chin. “Am not.”
“Yeah, you are. There’s no chance in hell you’ll be fucking Whitney tonight.”
“O ye of little faith.”
“It’s got nothing to do with faith, man.”
“Fine. O ye of little Benjamins.”
Little Benjamins?
Confused, my eyes bounce from left to right. “What are you talking about?”
Ben rubs his hands together. “I’m loaded. And when Whitney finds out, she’ll be all over me. Brittany too. Like I said, the ladies love a pretty boy like you until they realize they need a manlike me.”
Wait! What? The bastard outright played me.
Somewhat impressed but also dubious of his logic, I say, “You think that just because you’ve got a lot money they’ll sleep with you?”
“Damn straight.”
I glance at the girls again, and Brittany winks at me while shimmying down and then up Whitney’s body before tugging her toward the booth.
“Watch and learn,” Ben murmurs as the girls stroll back and retake their seats.
I wait for my so-called lesson in fuckery as Brittany sips her cocktail dry again.
“Did you miss us?” she asks.
“Every second of every minute.” Ben nods to her empty glass. “Want another? You can have whatever you like. Your drinks are on me all night long.”
She winks at Whitney. “We can have anything we like?”
“Sure can, princess. And after you’re done, we can go have some fun in the casino or at the shops.” He makes a show of adjusting his Rolex. “You see, I have too much money, and I need your help spending it.”
Turning her body toward Ben, Whitney grins seductively and walks her fingers up his chest. “In that case, I’ll start with a… Blow Job.”
He pats his lap, and fuck me stupid, she slides on top of him. “You can have all the Blow Jobs you want, gorgeous.”
Brittany giggles, then drops her hand to my leg and squeezes. “Would you like a Blow Job too?”
