Cassie is snapping pictures and giggling all at the same time. “Okay, I need the two redheads, please,” Cassie orders.
“Now that’s something I haven’t had in a while.” Carson looks down at the girls as they take the short climb to the rock.
“Carson, repeat after me: Sexual Harassment.”
“Kinley, are you offering?”
Cassie breaks out into laughter, holding her side.
“Stop encouraging him,” I whisper at her.
“Oh my, I’m so glad you convinced me of this.” She wipes the laughter tears from her eyes and picks up her camera again.
For the next hour, Carson and the two female models give us over one hundred shots to choose from. The sun is almost completely down, and everyone is getting hungry. Well, at least I am.
“What do you think?” Cassie comes up behind me and looks over my shoulder. I had the pictures uploaded to my laptop, and I’m scanning them.
“These are good.” I scroll through several of them.
“Shit, Kinley, were you that worried?” Carson stand in front of me.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Kinley, we both know better than that.” Cassie giggles. “Carson, did you know that when Kinley was the president of our sorority, she was like a general to us?”
“Wait, you were the president?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“So, you were like the queen of the threesomes.”
Cassie spit out the water she’s drinking.
I slug him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
“I still haven’t heard a denial from either of you,” he eggs on.
“Oh, it wasn’t me,” Cassie quickly jumps in. “And I’m leaving on that note.” Cassie picks up her camera case and gets into her rental car.
“Kinley?”
I narrow my eyes at him. In truth, I’ve never done a threesome, but it’s fun to tease him a little. “A girl never kisses and tells.”
“So, if I kissed you, would you tell me now?”
“Yuck, no!” I scream. “I’m not kissing you. First, I don’t know what your mouth has been on, and second, eeww.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence that I’m not a good kisser.”
“I’m sure you’re an adequate kisser. However, we have an early morning, and I need to go through these tonight.” I push past him and head to my car.
“I know it’s an early morning. I still have the emails!” he shouts at me.
Chapter Fourteen
Carson
The idea that people have a “type” is something I don’t believe in. I don’t have a certain type. If she’s a good looking woman, then she pretty much fits the bill. Of course, this is all based on the end game being sex. Relationships are an entirely different battle. My point is that if there is merit in this idea of people having a type, I’m obviously not Kinley’s. I don’t care and it doesn’t matter bec