“I want to text my man,” Nic says and begins typing on her phone.
“No! We said we weren’t going to.” Stacy shakes her head adamantly then seems to rethink her stance. “Wait. I wonder if they miss us.”
“Where are they again?” Jax asks.
“Probably a strip club,” Meg pouts again.
“No, I doubt that. I think they’re gambling.” Nat pats Meg’s shoulder and smiles widely.
“Do you guys have any idea how many women are probably flirting with our men?” Sam asks suddenly. “They’re hot. And about half of them are famous. Oh God, what have we done?”
“So, let’s remind them what they already have.” Brynna’s grin spreads and she stands quickly. “Everyone to the bathroom! You too, Jax.”
“I’m not going in the ladies room,” Jax says. “No way.”
“Jax! How can I take a photo of your dick for Logan from out here?”
Jax chokes on his tequila and sputters, “I didn’t realize that was in the plans for this evening.”
“When did you become such a prude?” I stand and drag Jax up with me. “This is a man who used to have a whole folder of dick shots in his phone.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“We know each other’s passcodes on our phones, Einstein.”
“That’s not so we can snoop. That’s so we can destroy any evidence if the other is incapacitated.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea! Here, Nat, here’s my passcode,” Jules says as she stumbles on her mile-high heels toward the restroom.
“Save our table! We’ll be right back,” Sam calls to the bartender who waves us off as we stumble away and file into the bathroom.
Thankfully, it’s empty.
“Lock that door, Nic.” Meg grins and stares at all of us. “Okay, what are we doing?”
“Boob shots,” Brynna says. “We’re going to send our guys photos of our boobs.”
“Can we send them all your boobs?” Jules asks. “You have the best boobs.”
“No,” Bryn laughs as she strips out of her shirt. “They’ll know they’re not yours.”
“Why do I have to be here for this?” Jax asks.
“Because you’re taking the photos,” Sam says with a grin. “You’re the luckiest man in this hotel.”
“And it’s completely lost on me. Okay.” He shrugs and takes a photo of our naked chests with each of our phones. “That’s all of you.”
“Now you,” Nat says and tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“No way. No dick pics for Logan.” Jax shakes his head adamantly and then pins me in a stare. “No, Meredith.”
“You do know her name!” Nic exclaims and then snorts. “Oh God, I’m not even drunk and I just snorted.”
“Atta girl,” Meg says, pleased.
“Okay, no dick pic,” I say and pat Jax’s shoulder. “But we have to send him something.”
“Why? He’s not answering me.”
“Is he mad?” Jules asks and blinks her eyes, alternating between looking at Jax through her left eye, then her right. “Fuck, you’re hotter through my left eye.”
“What’s wrong with your right eye?” Nat asks.
“It’s getting drunker than the other.”
“Is he mad?” Brynna asks, concerned. “Did we make him mad? Is it because Meg crawled on your lap? She’ll ’pologize.” She turns to Meg and props her hands on her hips. “’Pologize to Logan.”
“I’m sorry, Logan. It’s just, Jax is hot and he said his dick is really big, but you would already know that.”
“Logan isn’t here.” Jax laughs out loud. “So he didn’t see Meg on my lap. I don’t know if he’s mad. I can’t reach him.”
“Does he suck your dick?” Jules asks, peering at Jax through just her left eye.
“Oh God. That’s too personal,” Nat says and shakes her head.
“Do you suck Nate’s dick?” Jax asks.
“Every chance I get.”
Jax raises a brow and watches as Jules catches up.
“Ha! I knew it!”
“Okay, let’s focus.” I turn and look at all three of the Jaxes in front of me. That alcohol is kicking in nicely.
Meg smirks at that and primps in the mirror.
“Let’s just send him a cute photo of you,” I suggest and snatch his phone out of his hand so I can take the picture.
“Wait! Let’s all crowd around him,” Nic says and the girls all climb around him. Nat jumps up in his arms and before I know it, Jax is draped in women.
“Ha! This is awesome.” I snap a few photos with everyone’s phones then we make our way back to our table and order a fresh round of drinks.
“Okay, let’s send our pics to our men,” Sam says and pushes her face into her phone, concentrating.
“How do you spell tits?” Jules asks.
“’Nesia,” Meg reminds her.
I bring up the text window for Mark and plug in the shot of my boobs and text under it: here’s your boob shot, perv.
“How do you spell cock again?” Stacy asks the room at large. “As in, ‘I want your cock between my tits’?”
Jax spits out the tequila he’d just swigged and chokes. “Jesus Christ, you’re all a bunch of dirty women.”
“Oh, honey, you have no idea,” Sam says with a shake of the head. “Thankfully, our men like it.”
With the text messages sent, we grin at each other and then explode into laughter.
“That’s going to shock the fuck out of my husband,” Stacy says, wiping her eyes.
“Okay, enough sitting around. Meg, I think you should sing,” Jules says.
“There isn’t a band, Jules. The music is piped in.”
“There’s a karaoke machine over there,” Brynna points to the corner of the room. “I bet Hottie McHotterson over there will turn it on.”
“Who?” Nic asks.
“The bartender.”
“I got this.” I stand and plump up my breasts, as though I’m preparing for some kind of woman battle and saunter over to the bar, ready to flirt with McHotterson so he’ll let Meg sing.
Chapter Seventeen
Mark