Page 16 of Saving Pookie

I catch his eyes in the mirror. "You didn't play sports in school, did you?"

He raises a brow and smiles gently. "How did you know?"

"Because you're too shy to change in front of other guys," I point out. "I've seen more dicks than pussies in my life."

He punches his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "You say that like you're missing out on seeing me naked."

I purse my lips and cock my head. "That's obviously not what I meant."

An unwelcome guest clears his throat at the door. It's Talon, swiping through his tablet as he blocks the entryway. It's his polite way of telling us to hurry the hell up. By my calculations, we still have about five more minutes before the guests start arriving, so he needs to pop a Xanny and relax.

With a shit-eating grin on my face, I make my way over to him to irritate him. I nudge him with my elbow, stealing his attention. "How's my cock look?"

He's hardly fazed. He gives me a quick glance and then his focus is back on the tablet. "Like we're going to have to blur your package on national television. Stop taking that shit before filming."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He drops his arm to the side. "I'm talking about the cock tablets you're buying online through a quack doctor."

"I have an image to maintain."

"And I need to have a conversation with you." He grabs me by the arm and tugs me out into the hall, closing the door behind us.

My stomach clenches, fearing the worst. "Are you firing me?"

"We need you to make friends with Pookie," he whispers. "We're still trying to figure out how to weave him into the narrative, but that's difficult when y'all are acting incredibly cliquish."

"We are cliquish," I say, laughing. "For example, I don't much like that cock-pierced psycho in there." I poke him in the chest. "Before you and Jules and the rest of your production company came around, I worked with Gunnar as little as possible. I know you're behind constantly pairing me with him."

"That's actually an example of not being cliquish, but that's beside the point," he huffs. "I need at least a few of you to pretend as if he's part of the group. Otherwise, it's going to be a bust."

I frown at him playfully, desperate to see how far I can push him before he snaps. "I thought you wanted to capture the real in reality."

He drags his palms over his reddening face, desperately trying to stifle a scream. When he's succeeded at the task, he sighs. "Befriend him, and we'll give you a bonus."

Money doesn't whisper. It fucking roars. The mention of it elicits the feeling of butterflies in my stomach and a thickening of my cock. "How much?"

"Ten thousand," he whispers.

Okay, clearly this was planned. Neither Talon nor Jules has that kind of power. They're not writing our checks. That's done by the powers that be who pull their strings.

I reach out and shake his hand. "Deal."

I'm too fucking easy.

I go back inside, take a seat beside my new best friend, and pull on my pink cowboy boots.

"So, uh..." Pookie bites down on a fingernail. "How does this work? Do we go around passing out drinks, or do we stand behind a bar? I didn't even know we had a rooftop bar until this morning."

"I could pinch your cheeks." I force a smile. "You're so cute."

"What?" He jerks in place, confusion swarming his dark eyes.

"This is your third shift?"

"Fourth," he corrects me.

"And you haven't figured it out yet that you're not slinging drinks. You're slinging dick and shaking ass. You're selling sex, a fantasy." I apply a thin layer of lip balm to my lips. "As you know, our tips are pooled. For you, that's a great thing. For the rest of us? Not so much."