Free Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2) by Kirsty Dallas

him.
    “I always thought it was my ass women liked,” he whispered finally.
    “Oh, you have one fine ass,” I said. When all three men looked at me, I realized I had actually said it out loud. I refused to be embarrassed by my slip. “What? He totally does.” Casey and Lionel just watched me with goofy grins, and when I braved up enough to glance at Bradley, he looked smug.
    “What other features do you like?” he asked with his arms crossed over his chest, drawing my gaze to his well-defined biceps.
    Hmmmm, would I start there? Or perhaps with those strong thighs, or maybe his calves, they were hot, too, or his feet. Hell, I was a foot person, and it was usually the first place I started. Mangy feet or toes were a deal breaker for me. I suddenly wondered what Bradley’s feet looked like. Did he have corns? Were they wide? Flat? Hairy? Oh, gosh! Did he have hammertoe? He seemed so aesthetically perfect he had to have a fault, and knowing my luck, it would be his feet.
    Casey’s fingers snapped in front of my face. “Okay, creeper, if you are going to ogle, it’s best done discreetly.”
    Fortunately, the guys resumed the game, and we fell into an easy cadence of laughter and gasps. I suddenly had a much better insight into all the men. Lionel was far more sensitive than he let on; Casey had no shame, which I was aware of already, and he was fiercely loyal to Lionel; their affection for each other had me more than a little jealous. And Bradley, well, I was beginning to see why he was Decker Steele’s best friend. Behind his scowly persona was a man who liked to have fun and was far more playful than he let on. He was confident, but not arrogant, which I’ll admit had been my first impression. He actually had a few sweet moments that were totally sigh-worthy.
    The game had long since fallen to the wayside, and we were laughing at childhood stories when a loud knock at the door interrupted our Fancy Dress Friday fun. The way they were downing alcohol had them giggling like a gaggle of schoolgirls. If the boys weren’t careful, they’d be spending the next morning praying to the porcelain throne. Being the only sober one in the room, I answered the door.
    “Oh, hello,” said a cultured, native voice coming from a woman who looked as equally cultured. She was taller than me with long dark hair and beautiful almond shaped eyes. She was wearing a dress that hugged her stunning body but still looked elegant and regal. Her eyes floated up and down my Wonder Woman costume, and her brow furrowed. “Is Emerson here?” Her demeanor quickly turned snotty, and I wondered if this was Bradley’s girlfriend. And who the hell was Emerson? I glanced over my shoulder and just about face palmed when I realized she was referring to Bradley.
    “He is. Come on in, we’re just having a few drinks.” I stepped back, and she sauntered into the apartment like she owned the place.
    “Davinda?” came Bradley’s startled voice from across the room.
    Her eyes zeroed in on his half-dressed body, and I suddenly felt a resounding urge to scratch the woman’s eyes out.
    “I didn’t realize you had company,” Davina said, glancing at me with a very Bradley-like scowl that bordered on condescending.
    Okay, we obviously had issues because I didn’t like her, and I liked everyone—except Kasper—and she didn’t like me, and I was adorable, everyone liked me!—well, except Kasper.
    “I have friends from the US staying with me for a while,” Bradley said, staring at Davina as though she were a puzzle he was trying to figure out. “This is Lionel and his partner, Casey who anal bleaches,” Bradley added with a chuckle. “And this is Wiska. This is my secretary, Davina.”
    Davina, the secretary, I thought with an eye roll. I knew exactly what sort of filing went down in Bradley’s office, and it sure as hell wasn’t the paper, hard copy kind.
    She nodded politely to Casey and Lionel before turning her catty gaze on me. “You