Breaking the Billionaire's Rules(5)

Lizzie continues to read, “‘Now memorize this line—There’s something about it. The way it mixes with your body chemistry that’s…hard to describe. Now pull away. Take your time. You’re not the pursuer here—she is. Say, scent is such an afterthought in our society—people don’t understand how deeply and intimately it links to the most primal part of our brain. That’s why you’ll see animals scenting each other before mating…’”

Screaming on the other end.

Lizzie winces and pulls the phone away from her ear until it stops. “No, I’m reading it in a book!” she says. “The Hilton Playbook. Get this—” She reads another passage where the man is to talk about how wild animals gently bite the scruffs of the animals they’re mating with, that this, too connects to the primal brain. Max’s instructions go on to instruct the man to run his hand up the back of her neck and pull gently on her hair and say, see?

More screaming from the other end.

Lizzie pulls the phone away from her ear. “Jada’s coming up.”

“Tell her to bring beers,” Kelsey says.

“Bring beers!” Lizzie says.

Jada’s up with a six-pack of beer a few minutes later. She has bright blonde hair and pouty lips that are vampiric in a pretty way. She also has a love for bright patterns and all things shiny and sparkly. She’s a walking color explosion tonight, right down to her silver sparkle combat boots. “You’re telling me the guy was following a script?” she demands. “Is that the book?”

“You want to hear the rest?” Lizzie asks.

“No!” Jada hands over the beer and folds her arms in a huff. Then, “Yes.”

Kelsey sets her up with a frosty glass as Lizzie reads on, this whole sexy thing about mammals and being hardwired to respond to being smelled and having their hair gently pulled…and even more, being lightly bitten on the neck.

“Noooo.” Jada presses her palms to her forehead. “That was all the Hilton Playbook?”

“More?” Lizzie says.

“We’ve gone this far,” Jada says.

Lizzie reads on. “‘She’ll be ready to kiss you, but don’t give her what she wants. Say, that’s why it’s such an intense sensation to be bitten on the neck. The lightest pressure with the teeth, right on the side of the neck, stimulates the basest of instincts. Not a lot of people understand this. Now touch the side of your own neck, showing her where you want her to bite you. Look into her eyes and say, It’s okay, you can. Act as if she’s been dying to do it. If you’ve been doing my system right, she’ll reach around and take the back of your hair and gently bite your neck.’”

“This is so messed up,” I say. “Did you bite him, Jada?”

“I feel so stupid,” Jada says, mortified.

“Nothing to feel mortified about.” I sling an arm around her. “How were you supposed to know?”

“Get this—Nathan, my ex? He was following this book,” Kelsey tells Jada. “And I lived with him for a year. While he cheated on me with techniques from it!”

“Oh my god,” Jada says.

I grit my teeth. I can’t believe Max’s book played such a hug role in Kelsey’s disaster of a relationship. And now Jada?

Lizzie raises a finger in the air. “‘If she does not take the bait, do not smile. She needs a negative consequence. Find something more interesting to look at. Then turn back to her. Now she’s ready for your command. Look into her eyes. Go on. Bite me here.’”

I shake my head. No words.

The passage goes on. The man is to criticize her bite, and show her how to do it properly. He may give her “mild approval in the form of a lazy smile” when she gets it right. “‘Remember, you are the prize she is vying for. Eventually, she’ll get the bite right. At this point, finally, you should drop your gaze to her lips. She’s won the privilege of your kiss.’”

We all scream.

Jada grabs the book. “I can’t believe it was all an act from a book!” She frowns. “Written by that jackass who thinks he’s Gandy with his face plastered everywhere? I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“I would’ve gone for it,” I say. “Who doesn’t want a guy with knowledge of erotic animal things? A little crazoo in bed, you know…”

“And base primal instincts,” Lizzie says. “You want base primal instincts in a guy. Except when he’s driving. Or fixing a computer.”

“Did he wear a weird hat?” I ask.

“No, but he had a lot of cool bracelets and a really shiny shirt under his blazer,” Jada says. “And he was not primal or in any way crazoo in bed. Because it was all Max Hilton’s material. Why am I just finding out about this now? I need to read this whole book!”

“Mia knows him,” Kelsey says. “They went to the Shiz together.”

“Max Hilton went to the Shiz?” Jada says. “What was he studying, utter jackhole-ishness?”

“Yes,” I say, heaving myself off the couch. “You could major in theater arts, classical music, or utter jackhole-ishness. Max was an A student in the latter.” I pull the darts off Max’s face. “And his name was Maxfield Miller. Not Max Hilton.”