Cat Haus - the Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys) by Cat Johnson Carrie Lane

Author:Cat Johnson, Carrie Lane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Working Girl Publications
Published: 2014-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Proof that the universe doesn't want us mortals to get too cocky met me in the parlor. I'd divested myself of my fake penis, said goodbye to my customer after I'd given him the pegging of a lifetime, and touched up my makeup. I went back to the parlor, hoping to grab another customer and make this slow day a little more profitable. That's when I saw a guy at the bar who made me stop in my tracks.

I spun to get out of the room before he saw me, but it was too late. His expression had gone from a frown to a wide-eyed stare as recognition hit him. "Cate?"

Could I deny it? Probably not. I knew this guy from college. Enough years hadn't passed for me to play the you must have mistaken me for someone else card. Especially since he'd called me by name.

Shit.

"Hey, Dean. Yeah, it's me."

He smiled wide. It made him look sleazier than usual. "Wow. What a surprise."

"Yup. Sure is." And an unpleasant surprise at that.

I'd been to a lot of the same parties Dean had been at. He was the kind of guy who delighted in hooking up with a different girl every night so he could brag about it to anyone who would listen the next day. I'd avoided his clutches back then, thank God. I'd actually been a pretty good girl in college. Not an angel, or a virgin—I had boyfriends and sex—but I didn't sleep around, by any means. Not that Dean would believe the truth of that now. And I was sure he'd tell everyone he still talked to from school about me being here.

At least I got a bit of satisfaction at seeing him having to pay for sex nowadays. Guess without the frat house's parties and booze, women weren't so easy to come by anymore.

His smile was cocky as he said, "So, how's that English degree working out for you?"

Fucking son of a bitch. Making me feel cheap because I'd chose to make six figures a year doing something I enjoyed rather than settling for crap pay in my field. Or worse, interning for free with the hope they'd offer me a job later. That seemed as much like selling myself as prostitution did.

"Eh, you know. Gotta live life before you can write about it."

"So this is book research?" He looked skeptical.

"Yup." Hey, it could be. In fact, I might start writing that book. I sure had a fucking lot to say.

But for right now, the dead last thing I wanted to do was have sex with a man who treated me as lesser, and Dean was doing that. Meanwhile, he could be no better off than me. How would I know? He could scrape up road kill for a living, for all I knew. Or hell, he could be a male prostitute now. They were legalized too in this state—one reason why we all had to get mandatory anal swabs as well as vaginal ones for our weekly STD tests.

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