“Okay. So last night in the ER…” I grabbed another shot and slurped down the gelatinous mouthful, needing to fortify myself at the memory of Cade’s erection.
“How big would you say it was?” MacKenzie asked once I was through my story, leaning forward with eager curiosity.
“Ah hell, I’m getting another drink,” Ty announced, standing to head into the kitchen.
After considering—and rejecting a nearby candlestick and finding nothing else adequate in my living room to showcase the full length of Cade’s manhood, Kenzie and I made our way into the kitchen, giggling at my idea to retrieve a cucumber from the refrigerator.
I reached into the crisper drawer and modeled the large vegetable in front of my crotch. “This looks about right.”
MacKenzie took my shoulders, turning me from side to side so I could model it at various angles. “Damn. That boy is hung.”
Tyson retreated to the bathroom while MacKenzie and I made our way back into the living room. She hoisted the cucumber proudly over her head, waving it in time with the music, and led the way back to my computer.
MacKenzie settled onto the sofa, the laptop balanced on her knees and I scooted in beside her to…supervise.
“Click here,” I told her, pointing to the tab labeled Models. The title had seemed a little strange to me, but I supposed that sounded classier than saying p**n stars. The pictures were mostly topless girls posing seductively. MacKenzie scrolled past the photos of the girls. Last night I’d thoroughly inspected each image, wondering if Cade had slept with them, and which he preferred best. All of the girls were thin and tanned with large, fake br**sts. I didn’t want to, but my mind had inevitably made comparisons to my own body.
I was of average height, average weight. My br**sts were decidedly real, they fell several inches when I removed my bra, and I had far too many freckles to be considered sexy. Pretty, maybe, but certainly not on par with the type of women he usually slept with. But all thoughts of insecurity vanished when I’d spotted Cade’s photo.
“That’s him.” I pointed at the photo.
It said his name was Sebastian, but it was definitely Cade. He was standing near a weight bench, gym shorts loose on his narrow hips to show his cut abs and he was smirking like he knew a secret the rest of us didn’t.
“Damn. He’s f**king hot.”
I giggled. “I know.”
MacKenzie clicked on his photo. Though I had spent time last night poring over each one, I couldn’t help but lean forward to join in her inspection. He had a full page of photos. In many of them he was wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, and then a few where the boxers had been removed and all of him was proudly on display. The tattoo I’d wondered about was a tribal design that covered his left shoulder and crawled up his chest, ending at his neck.
I blushed at the sight of his fully erect c**k and heat crept up my chest until I was rosy and warm. I couldn’t help but reminisce about being near Cade in the semi-private hospital room, where I’d been close enough to feel the heat of his skin and smell of the scent of his musky arousal.
MacKenzie scrolled down to the bio beneath the photos. I’d read it last night, but couldn’t resist reading it again over her shoulder. It said he was their newest model, and worked exclusively for their site. The bio claimed he was extremely professional to work with and always focused on making sure the girls felt comfortable. Outside of work he enjoyed working out and listening to rock music. It sounded like a clichéd line of bull, but that didn’t keep me from grasping at every bit of information I could get.
Tyson appeared from the kitchen, this time with a bottle of beer, and sank down on the chair across the room.
“Ty, you want to see what a real man looks like?” MacKenzie teased.
I elbowed her side. Tyson was only a few inches taller than me, and had a slight build, but he was cute and I didn’t like her tearing him down. Especially since he regularly caught flack for being one of only a few male nursing students.
“I get to see that every day, babe. I’m good.” He polished off the rest of his beer.
MacKenzie closed the laptop. “Let’s go out. If I look at any more of these, I’ll bang the first guy I see at the club.”
By the time we arrived, the Jell-O shots had caught up with me. Tyson slipped his arm around my waist and helped me inside. Once we were stationed at the bar, he deposited me safely on a barstool, refused MacKenzie’s request for more shots, and ordered me a beer and a water.
With our drinks in hand, we found a corner booth and slid into the seats.
I slumped back against the seat, resting my head against Ty’s shoulder. “What was in these Jell-O thingies? I feel funny.”
MacKenzie laughed. “Vodka. I thought you knew Jell-O shots had booze in them.”
Ty grasped my chin, turning my face to his. “How many of those did you have, Lex?”
I tried to count and lost track. “Um, ten? Twelve?”
“Shit,” he said, and took the bottle of beer from my hand, replacing it with the water.
“Damn it, Kenzie. You said you’d watch out for her tonight.”
MacKenzie waved him off. “She’s drunk, not dead, Tyson. Calm down. It’s her twenty-first birthday, and P.S.—you’re not her dad.” She knocked back a healthy swig of her own drink.
“Don’t fight, you guys. I’m fine.” I reached out to pat each of them reassuringly but fumbled. “See?”