Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Jimmy, Theron, and Gabe stand around the island, watching me with interest, or maybe it’s to assess the competition. Jimmy leans closer, peering at the ingredients. "You sure you can handle the heat, Carson? There are a lot of hungry people in this place expecting something amazing to eat."
“No pressure then.” I hold up a chili pepper. “I’m good with heat. What about you?”
“I kick heat in the ass,” he laughs. I believe that. After Allie paused the interviews by the pool, she left us to retreat inside. That’s when the bro talk started, and Jimmy shared his MMA background. The guy could kick the butts of every man in here. Maybe all of us at the same time!
When I initially found out there were ten of us involved in this study, I was prepared to meet a load of guys beating their chests for dominance. Put any group of men together and they size each other up, trying to work out where they fit in the hierarchy.
But this group has been different from the start, and I can’t work out why.
I mean, we’re all good looking in our own ways. There isn’t a man here who doesn’t put time in at the gym or hone his body with some other kind of physical exertion. We’re all from different professions and have different financial situations. But everyone here seems on an equal playing field. Yes, there’s some good-natured teasing, but I haven’t once felt like anyone was out to put others down for their own gain.
I guess it could be because we’re here for a week and everyone is focusing on relaxing and enjoying themselves as much as they can. It could be because the only woman here is off limits because of her need to keep a professional distance. I’ve considered a more amusing reason; the fact that we have identical dick lengths and so there’s no cock-competition amongst us. An anthropologist could have a field day with this.
“Carson’s an artist,” Allie says. “And that’s a good thing because getting the balance of flavors right in a Thai Green Curry is the most important thing, not the heat.”
I grimace at her labeling me an artist. I used to think I had a special talent, but the more years I spend working within the tattoo industry, the less certain I feel about my place within it. I read somewhere that it's called imposter syndrome. Clay tells me I’m crazy for lacking confidence when I have so many happy customers, but what meets one person’s standards isn’t enough for someone else. I produce work that’s good enough, but it’s nowhere near where I want it to be. Sometimes, when I’m alone at night, I can’t sleep from the panic I feel, anticipating that the next customer I ink will hate what I’ve designed.
“Better find someone else to finish this,” I respond, the fear about my skill with tattoos now bleeding into my confidence with cooking.
“No way,” Jimmy says. “You’ve been chopping those ingredients like a professional. You gotta stick with it.”
I blow out a long breath, trying to expel the anxious hollowness in my chest. As I turn to stir the paste, I catch Allie watching me with a furrow between her brows.
Great.
That’s just what I need.
Maybe she’ll include this in her article under the subtitle ‘Having a big dick doesn’t make a confident man.’
I can show her how confident I can be. In the bedroom, I have no doubts about my abilities. If I turned my mind to it, I could make little Miss Allie scream with pleasure. I could show her just how much of an artist I can be with my tongue and my fingers and my cock.
“Maybe you guys should stop leering all over Carson and go watch some TV,” Allie says, stepping in to be my savior. “Sorry, Carson. I know what it can be like when people are watching what you’re doing. I’ll take the peanut gallery over there.”
When Allie stands and beckons my observers with her finger, making her way to a low tan leather sofas, my eyes follow her like they're magnetized to her ass. Seriously. I think she’s trying to kill us all, walking around in her bikini all day, and now rocking a pair of cutoff jean shorts that barely cover her ass. The bright green top she’s wearing, dotted with tiny little holes, isn’t exactly hiding anything either, and it’s one of those blouses that ties around the neck and hangs open at the back revealing a stretch of skin I want to lick.
Jimmy’s gaze does the same thing, and he turns to me, saying nothing but passing on his shared appreciation. A sharp stab of jealousy penetrates just under my ribs as Allie is surrounded by Jimmy, Theron, Gabe, and then more men as they begin appearing freshly showered from upstairs.