The Three Kiss CLause Read online

  Coming Soon from Christopher Harlan

  Part I

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Part II

  Chapter Twelve

  Recording Session One

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Recording Session Two

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Recording Session Three

  Chapter Thirty

  PART III

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Connect with Christopher Harlan

  Also by Christopher Harlan

  The Three Kiss Clause

  By Christopher Harlan

  Cover Design and Formatting by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  Proofreading by Stephanie Albon

  This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to anyone who did not purchase the book outright. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other means not listed specifically herein) without the express written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. All people, places, and events contained herein are a product of the author’s imagination and are completely fictitious.

  Warning

  This book is intended for those 18 or older. It contains explicit sexual content and adult situations. Discretion is advised.

  Coming Soon from Christopher Harlan

  A sexy, exciting, edge of your seat HEA contemporary romance, SECRET KEEPER is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s STUCK UP SUIT, publishing in 2020 as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  Blurb

  “She was the fruit of a forbidden tree, but nothing in this world was going to stop me from tasting her.

  My name is Dylan Murphy, and I work for the rich and powerful of an exclusive Manhattan building. Graham Morgan was my first boss, but soon after I was working with some of the most famous entrepreneurs, business moguls, and movie stars in the city. They trusted me because I always followed the cardinal rules:

  Never betray secrets. And never, under any circumstance, get personally involved.

  I’d never dreamed of violating my professional mantra. Not until she walked past me.

  The look we exchanged that night set my body on fire, and I knew right then and there that no matter the consequences, she was going to be mine. But she was one of them—off limits and out of my league, but she was the kind of woman who I was willing to risk everything for.

  I keep other people’s secrets for a living, but the biggest secret of all might be my own.”

  Add to your Goodreads here—> https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48258882-secret-keeper

  Join Vi & Penelope’s Cocky Hero Reader Group here—> https://m.facebook.com/groups/874368842925701?ref=share

  Make sure you sign up for my NEWSLETTER so that we can stay in touch, you can have access to all my giveaways, new releases, and cover reveals. Don’t worry! You’ll never be spammed, shared, or sold.

  FuckBoy

  —Someone who is only looking for a piece of ass to use then throw away. . . He will always come crawling back because he is a horny prick and can not withstand the dispossession of one of his baes, because he has more than one that's for sure.

  FuckBoy Syndrome

  —A chronic disease, in which a chemical imbalance located between the testicles and brain cause the affected male to act and think in a distorted and perverted way. No one knows the exact cause of Fuckboy Syndrome, but it is said to be both genetic and conditioned. If this disease is left to manifest, it will consume the fuckboys life and actions.

  —Urban Dictionary

  Part I

  The Contract

  Welcome to episode eighty-seven of your favorite podcast, Women on D*cks, where me and my favorite female guests talk about all things guy related. As always, this is your girl, Tori Klein, and even though I don’t have any guests today, I do have two super exciting announcements for my loyal army of TorMenTors.

  First, I’m beyond amazed to say that we just passed one million subscribers on iTunes!

  I can’t even begin to express how lucky I am to have the greatest fans in all of Internet Land! Seriously, you all rock, and none of this would be possible without your support. So, in honor of our one millionth download, I’m giving away a bunch of cool Women On D*cks merch, as well as some of my brand-new Tormentor Army shirts, signed by yours truly. All you have to do is leave some love in the comments and I’ll choose ten—that’s right, ten lucky winners. All names will be announced on Wednesday’s vlog!

  You’re probably wondering what my second piece of amazing news could be, right?

  I can’t keep you guys waiting any longer.

  I’ve been teasing about it for a while now, and its finally time for my big reveal.

  So, about a year ago, one of our own loyal supporters reached out to me about a project she wanted to work with me on. After some careful consideration, followed by a crazy amount of hard work, I’m happy to announce that soon you’ll be able to grab a copy of my very first book!

  That’s right, TorMenTors, soon your girl is going to add published author to her growing list of titles. My debut book, which I named after my most downloaded episode of this podcast—Fuckboys—will soon be available at a store near you. I don’t have any details or dates for you yet, but stay tuned.

  That’s all for now, guys. Gotta run. Remember to leave that comment for a chance to win all that amazing merch, and stay tuned for updates!

  And, as always, support your girl by hitting that subscribe button and leaving a review!

  Tori

  I started my podcast when I came to the realization that all women eventually come to—that men are slaves to the masters that are their dicks. It’s a simple truth, and the sooner you realize it, the better off you’ll be

  If you follow me on social media you already know how I feel about this topic, it’s pretty much the focus of all of my content. And if you do follow me, I know you’ve seen (and hopefully used) that very hashtag I created—#slavestotheirdicks. But just in case you’re not one of my loyal Tormentor Army, hit me up on Insta, @Tor_MEN_Ted, and make sure you subscribe and hit that notification bell on my YouTube channel—I vlog twice a week.

  If you don’t know me from either of those platforms (well, get on that!), then I should probably introduce myself properly.

  I’m Tori Klein. Feminist influencer. Vlogger. Podcaster. Regular woman trying to get through the day. Oh, and I forgot to mention that soon I’ll be a publis
hed author as well—but I’ll get to that part in a second.

  The first time someone called me Instafamous I almost hurled. I’m not in this for any kind of fame or recognition, but it kind of comes with the territory. Eventually I caved and just accepted that I’m kinda sorta famous, but only for the small percentage of the population that know my vlogging and podcasting.

  Let’s just say I get recognized more at Starbucks than anywhere else. But whether the old lady at the grocery store recognizes me or not, I still make a living off my social media accounts and the sponsors of my podcast. But I’m never satisfied, no matter how many new followers I get. I always want to reach more women. I always want to spread the gospel of #MenArePigs. And that’s why I’ll soon be adding published author to my growing list of job titles.

  I decided to write a book so I could send my message to even more people than I could reach on Insta, or YouTube, or even on my podcast. A book is another platform, another chance to grow my rabid following of TorMenTors and spread the gospel of #slavestotheirdicks.

  But there’s a catch, of course—there’s always a catch.

  The thing is, I’m not technically published just yet, but it’s practically a wrap. A fan slid into my DM’s about a year ago and told me that she worked for one of the top publishing companies in Manhattan, and that my content is something they’re missing in their catalog. So, long story short, I have what she called a ‘pitch meeting’ there tomorrow. From what she tells me, that whole meeting thing is basically just a formality.

  If all goes well—and how could it not when they read my insights into the male sex—you’ll be able to order your very own copy of Fuckboys on Amazon. And if you’re super lucky, maybe you’ll even get to meet me at your local Barnes & Noble when I’m signing copies on my sold-out book tour—I can’t wait to meet you, by the way, and I thank you in advance for supporting my career! #Tormentors!

  But before taking our epic selfies in front of my signing table (please use the hashtags #torikleinisawesome #shessoapproachable #myfavoriteauthor #fuckboys, and always remember to tag me).

  Before you check out my pages or (eventually) read my book, we do need to clarify a few things, because there’s some misinformation floating out there about me and my beliefs, mostly from the trolls in the comments section.

  1.) What I’m not: the radical feminist, man-hating bitch I’ve been accused of being more times than I can count.

  2.) What I am: a strong, fierce, ambitious woman who isn’t afraid to speak her truth for the world to hear, and to inspire other women to do the same.

  And what’s the number one question I get from women who are looking to start their own vlog or podcast? Easy. How do you find time in the day to do it all, Tori?

  I’ll tell you a secret, I don’t do it all. No one can manage a social media empire like I have without some serious help, and in that case the help is my other half. No, not that kind of other half, I’m as single as they come. I mean my bestie, Shoshana. She’s been a fixture in my life since college, and she helps me edit, come up with concepts, find guests, and even manage my pages when I’m too busy. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.

  How would I describe our friendship? Let’s just say that we’re. . . well, we’re a little different—opposites in almost every way that two women can be, but if Paula Abdul taught us nothing else, it’s that opposites attract.

  When I’m not in front of my camera or behind a microphone, I’m intense, reserved, and usually distrustful until I get to know someone. Shoshana is Ms. Loves The World—trusting, outgoing, happy-go-lucky, and the coolest strange person you’ll ever meet. She’s also weird as hell, in the best possible way.

  When it comes to guys, we also exist on opposite sides of the universe. I see men for the stray alley cats that they are, but my other half believes in their goodness, no matter how many times she’s been screwed over by them—and trust me, it’s no small amount of times.

  We talk about this subject all the time, and not just for the vlogs. We just love to debate each other when it comes to anything guy related. Besides all the other time we spend around each other (sometimes I feel like she’s my work wife), we also have weekly sit down lunches at different restaurants around the city to discuss upcoming episodes and themes we want to explore. A few days ago we got into it about the differences in our perspectives when it comes to the opposite sex.

  “I know that it’s kind of your thing—you know, hashtags and all, but you really can’t call all men pigs, Tor, it just isn’t accurate.” She was referring to a vlog I was editing at the time—guess what I was going to title it?

  “I’ll never understand how you can disagree with me after all the bad experiences that you and all the women who follow me have had. You know I’m right, that’s why I have such a following. I speak the truth.”

  “I know no such thing, thank you very much. And I can disagree comfortably because, unlike my hater of a best friend, I’m not a bitter old lady with a dried-up vagina full of dead spiders.”

  That’s what I’m talking about—Shoshana can say some crazy shit that’s somehow still pretty spot on. “Wow,” I said, “just. . . wow.”

  “Well, in my head I was imagining your vag as either a desert or a frozen Siberian tundra—I just couldn’t decide which metaphor was more appropriate—so I went with spiders and cobwebs.”

  “You realize that you just made my nether region into a B-horror movie troupe.”

  “Of course I realize. If there’s one thing you know about me, Tor, it’s that I always realize, even if I pretend not to. But the metaphor makes sense. Your vag should be a bustling spring full of chirping birds and waterfalls. You’re young, hot, and more than a little bit famous—you should be putting yourself out there for all the eligible men who aren’t the kind of guys you vlog about.”

  Here’s a classic example of where where me and Shoshana disagree on our basic outlook on Guyland—she thinks most guys are good, with the occasional bad apple mixed in, while I think almost all of them are bad apples—the mushy, bruised kind that has a worm inside when you bite into it.

  “I appreciate that you put all this mental energy into the state of my vagina, Shosh. I really do, but you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t need some guy in my life to turn a desert into a spring.”

  “In your opinion,” she joked.

  “My vag, my opinion,” I joked back. “And there are better things to think about than my sex life.”

  “That’s a contradiction in terms. How can I think of something that doesn’t exist?”

  “Ouch.” She wasn’t wrong, though. Shoshana has a sense of humor that can make you laugh hysterically while simultaneously making you question every aspect of your existence. When she joked, sometimes you smiled because your diaphragm demanded contraction and your lungs just pushed out loud giggling sounds. But other times, like when she pointed out my non-existent dating life, you smiled because her accuracy frightened you. “Gotta say, that one stung a little.”

  “I wasn’t trying to sting.” she said. “I just worry about you. I want you to get out there. I think about it all the time.”

  What I never told Shosh—the truth that I worked my ass off to hide, was that I thought about it all the time too. It, in this case, being my relationships with guys. Or, as she put it, my non-existent relationships with guys. It’s almost like there are two of me—the feminist social media mogul who made her name spreading the word that all guys were all sex crazed pricks, and then the inner me—the one who still held onto a belief that maybe, just maybe, there was at least one good one out there—the perfect apple at the bottom of the barrel.

  Usually the first version of myself won out, but that didn’t mean the other one wasn’t in there, somewhere deep inside, waiting for the prince to step out from behind all the frogs.

  “Thanks, Shosh, but you don’t have to worry about me or my. . . area.”

  “Did you just call it your area?” She started la
ughing hysterically.

  “I might have. Just maybe.”

  “Fine, we’ll move on, but it’s a hard thing to not think about. That hot guy over there is probably thinking about it right now.”

  “There’s a thought—some random guy thinking of me like that.”

  “You’re missing out, he’s a cutie and a half.” At that point she stopped looking at me entirely and just ogled the random dude, who apparently sat just over my should. “Hey,” she said. “I have an idea—what do you say I wave him over? Maybe he has spider-poison in his pants.”

  “What? Listen to what you just said.”

  “You know, I heard it as it was coming out, and just so you know, it sounded super clever in my head. Cause, you know, the vagina spiders?”

  “I got it. They can’t all be home runs, you know?”

  “Sadly, I do. But, still.” She went to put her hand up and I grabbed it without even thinking about it. “Don’t you dare wave at some strange guy.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t exactly be strange if I waved him over and he introduced himself, would he? God, Tor, you’re the dumbest smart girl I know.”

  “I don’t need some weirdo to chase away anything in my pants, thank you very much.”

  “Your man-hating is going to leave you a bitter old lady one day. And as your best friend, I just can’t have that. You’re too awesome to end up that way.”

  There was the line. The one I’d read a million times in a million comments on my videos. If it wasn’t there, it was some troll in the reviews of my podcast episodes. ‘Tori hates men.’ I heard it so often that it was like the same jab coming at my face again and again—I learned how to defend it instinctually without even thinking about it. “I don’t hate men. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “I’m not sure—how about as many times as it takes to sound convincing. So, like, maybe a bazillion more or so. I’m not sure.”