The Randy Romance Novelist (13 page)

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Henry interrupted me. “You don’t want to get kicked in the nut sac. I will tell you right now, it will feel like someone took an empty wine bottle and tried to shove it up an imaginary tunnel that connects your balls to your stomach; you will want to throw up for days.”

“Ugh, men are so dramatic. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Henry crossed his arms over his chest, a challenge in his eyes. “Want me to kick you in the crotch and see how that feels? Bet you’ll be singing a different tune once you get a foot to the cooch.”

I placed my hands on my hips, throwing his challenge right back at him. “It’s all bone down there; of course it’s going to hurt. It would be like getting kicked in the shin.”

“Wait, are you trying to say that getting kicked in the shin is worse than getting kicked in the crotch?” Henry shook his head in disbelief. “You’re losing it, love.”

Defiance was my middle name right now. “Have you ever been kicked in the shin?”

“Yes, I have, and I can tell you right now it’s nothing like being kicked in the dick.”

“Let’s see,” I said, cocking my foot back.

Without even blinking, Henry stepped away and covered his crotch with his hands. “Are you insane right now?”

Putting my foot down, I laughed out loud. A maniacal screech of hysteria ripped through my body and popped out of my mouth. Uncontrollably, I heaved in amusement, gripping on to the display of edible underwear, and from the look on Henry’s face, he was confused and partially terrified.

Men were so protective of their penises.

I laughed to the point that tears started to fall down my cheeks and the store clerk had to ask Henry if I was losing my mind.

Anyone else would have laughed at the judgmental store clerk, but from the mention of losing my mind, I thought about how, lately, it felt like I was, and how Sir Licks-a-Lot was driving me crazy, and how he liked to hump Henry’s shirts and stare at us while having sex, and even paw my nipples at night without my permission. I hated that he made them hard each time; bestiality was not my thing, but Sir Licks-a-Lot sure thought it was, the pervert.

Before I knew it, my laughter turned into full-on tears, sobbing uncontrollably, very wet tears. I covered my face and slouched against the edible underwear, emotion causing a tidal wave of sorrow to blast through my body.

Henry knelt before me and removed my hands from my face so I had to look at him through my blurry, water-soaked eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “I love you, Rosie, but what I just witnessed can only be described as something straight from a Stephen King book.” He took a deep breath and continued, “You’re laughing your face off like a lunatic one second, so much that I could have swung like Tarzan from your uvula, and then the next second you’re crying like you had to sit down to catch yourself. You’re scaring me.”

A few tear-soaked hiccups popped out of me while I tried to catch my breath. I wiped my eyes, trying to dab around them to avoid makeup smearing, but unfortunately, I knew deep down there was no hope for me; it was going to look like a jail cell was smeared down my face.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I answered honestly, still trying to catch my breath. “That guy asked if I was losing my mind, and I think I am.”

Henry pulled me up off the floor and kissed the top of my head. “I think you’ve had an exciting day, that’s all.”

I nodded in agreement. “I also haven’t had sex yet tonight, and I think that has me all wound up.”

A snort flew out of Henry as he shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

I dusted off the back of my dress and moved along the aisles as I spoke to Henry. “I’ve never been more serious in my life, Henry. You think it’s easy being around you, with your cologne floating in and out of my nose and those tight clothes you wear that show off your butt and shoulders from behind? Honestly, I can’t be held accountable for what happens when I’m around you. You have my emotions out of whack.”

“Don’t blame this on me.” He gave me a stern look, but there was humor behind his eyes. “If that’s your excuse, I am turning it right back around on you.”

“What do you mean?”

Henry pointed up and down at my outfit as he spoke. “That dress, it’s short and it frames your curves perfectly. All I want to do is rip it off you.”

“You do?” There was an overwhelming urge in my body that wanted to Hulk-style rip my dress off, flex my boobs to pop my bra to the ground, lay Henry on the floor and whack my boobs across his face until he screamed for mercy.

Not my best thought ever.

“Of course I do.” His sexy grin stretched across his face and that was all it took.

Without even thinking, I tossed my glasses into a bowl of fruit-flavored condoms, flung my leg around Henry’s waist, which hiked the skirt of my dress up, and gripped Henry’s head so I could run my hands through his hair. With the precision of a drunk person, I wildly stuck his hair up on all ends and drove my mouth over his, clinging to every piece of his body. He held on to me so I didn’t fall, but by no means was he engaging in the same kind of throw your glasses into a bowl of condoms kind of passion.

Disappointed, I distanced myself from him and took in his appearance. His shirt was undone, he was breathing hard from the attack he just encountered, and his hair reflected the same kind of hairstyle as Albert Einstein. And yet . . . I was still very much attracted to him.

Damn you, Virginia.

Patting his hair down and tucking in his shirt, he said, “Umm, that was interesting. Want to discuss what that was all about?”

“No,” I said with a lift of my chin, digging my glasses out of the condom bowl.

“You sure? Because in the past ten minutes, you’ve threatened to probe me with a very life-like plastic penis, you’ve laughed so hard that I saw your uvula, sobbed on the dirty floor of an adult toy shop, and then followed up all of that by throwing your glasses into a bowl of condoms only to maul me afterward. Call me crazy, but your behavior just seems a little erratic.”

“Of course you would think that.” I paused, trying to figure out how to defend myself. “You just lack passion, that’s all.”

“I lack passion?” Henry asked, pointing to his chest, his perfectly tan and defined chest. I stared at his skin that peeked past the open button of his shirt and envisioned my hand running down the front of his pecs, maybe giving his nipples a little tweak. “Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” I asked, drawing my attention away from his chest and giving him an innocent smile.

“You’re impossible.”

Without letting me answer, he grabbed me by the shoulder and brought me over to the party section, but not before grabbing some elephant-sized condoms for the leg game. Still wasn’t sure about all that just yet; I would keep it on the back burner for now.

There was a wall of the shop set up for people just like us, looking to spend an obscene amount of money on trinkets that would most likely be thrown out in the morning. Everything was cheap, flimsy, and phallicy; just what Delaney wanted.

“I’m going to get a basket,” Henry said. “Start collecting items.”

I pulled out my list and started searching for what Delaney had asked for . . . scratch that, what she demanded.

Penis whistles, check.

Penis sippy cup, check.

Penis shot glass necklaces, check.

Penis sash, check.

Penis crown—with detachable veil with penises on it, unfortunately check.

“What do you have?” Henry asked, sidling up next to me with two baskets, smart man.

I held up my goods and then dumped them into the baskets. “There is also a miniature blowup man with an erect penis that I feel Delaney would probably enjoy carrying around.”

“I agree,” Henry confirmed, looking at the other items on the wall. “Penis candy?”

“No,” I stopped him before he could put it in the basket. “Delaney said no penis candies, hard or gummy. She apparently tested them out and thought they were gross.”

“Fair enough.” He looked around and then started laughing. “Didn’t she want a penis piñata?”

I turned to see what Henry was looking at and couldn’t help but laugh. Sitting on top of a shelf was a giant four-foot papier mâché penis, decorated with frilly paper and a perfectly round mushroom head.

“That needs to go home with us,” I said, staring at it.

“Yup, and we have to make sure to keep it away from Sir Licks-a-Lot, because I can only image that stupid feline wanting to use it as a scratching post.”

“He better not!”

We spent the rest of our time in the shop picking out items to stuff the piñata with and stocking up on enough paraphernalia to outfit at least four army brigades, but better safe than sorry. Knowing Delaney, if everyone didn’t have at least two penis whistles, she would throw a fit.

Henry, the amazing boyfriend he is, paid for all the penises and didn’t even glance my way when I held out my card. It’s so stupid, but to have someone take care of me, to watch over me and do kind things like pay for my best friend’s penis party, makes my heart beat just a little faster. Clearly, I don’t love Henry for his money, but the gesture was just sweet in itself. He made me feel cherished, worshipped, taken care of; it was a foreign feeling to me, one I never wanted to lose.

“Pizza?” Henry asked, walking next to me toward the pizza shop down the block.

“Yes, please!” I glanced over at him. His arms were full of bags, and sandwiched between his arm and thigh was the giant penis piñata. I couldn’t help but giggle as we walked down the eccentric streets of New York City, giant penis in hand, and a bag of dicks dangling from our fingers.

“Nice dick!” a man called out from a passing taxi, followed by laughter.

Henry shook his head. “You owe me for this, Rosie.”

“Why? That penis suits you.”

“Does it? I didn’t know a papier mâché penis was something that could suit someone.”

“If anyone can pull it off, it’s you, hot stuff,” I replied, giving him a giant smile and loving the way his eyes sparkled whenever he looked at me.

“You still owe me,” he winked, sending a chill up my spine, a really good chill.

Deli Meat

HENRY

Eight at night, it was eight at night, and I was still in the office. It was a long-ass day already, given that Rosie decided to spend a good portion of last night straddling me in every direction she could conceive—no pun intended. Then, this morning, she just had to suck me off in the shower. I’m not complaining, I’m just . . . nervous.

I’ve never had this much sex in my entire life, and I’m fucking terrified as shit that one time I won’t be able to get it up. Then what? I go down in history as one of those men, one who can have a sexy as fuck woman in front of them and not spring a chub? Fuck, I never want to be that man, especially since Rosie is my girl. She is so fucking perfect that not being able to get it up around her would be devastating. If she couldn’t do it, then who the fuck could?

Sweat started to tickle the back of my neck from the mere thought of it, and I wasn’t even around her or even in a sexual kind of space. Christ, the woman’s libido was starting to attack me at work now.

After this morning, I made a mental note to talk to Derk about Rosie. Her little scene last night in the adult toy store was a little concerning. Actually, it was very concerning. She was so hot and cold, so damn emotional and horny I honestly didn’t know what to do. At one point, I felt like protecting my balls, because the look in her eyes made me believe she was about to deep throat them in the middle of the dildo and elephant condom section. I needed some advice on how to calm down my overly emotional girlfriend.

“You going to have those drafts on my desk by tomorrow morning?” Eric asked, peeking his head over my cube walls.

I perked up and tried not to show the sleep that wanted to invade my senses. “Yup. I sent mock-ups to the design team this morning; should have them ready for tomorrow. Just working on my proposal now.”

“Good,” Eric praised. “First round of edits will start tomorrow, but I like what you have so far.”

I nodded at Tasha’s cube. “And what about Tasha? How’s she doing?”

Eric stepped into my cube and placed his hands in his pockets as he leaned forward to speak quietly. “The girl knows her condoms, that’s for damn sure. She has good ideas, Henry.”

Fuck, that was not what I wanted to hear. I knew she was going to be knowledgeable in the condom department, but to be able to put together a campaign that was eye-catching, that surprised me.

“Really? I’m still kind of shocked she’s here. In college, she showed no ounce of aptitude for advertising. I really don’t know how she’s gotten this far in her career.”

“I know; they’re stacked on her chest.”

Eric was probably the most professional man I knew, so to hear him make a comment about a woman’s breasts in the workplace was shocking. It just showed me how annoyed he was over the entire situation.

Insecurity washed over me as I asked, “Think I have a shot?”

The man was a good boss because instead of making fun of me, he gripped my shoulder and looked me dead in the eyes. “I wouldn’t put my stamp of approval on you if I didn’t think you had a shot. You’re a smart man, Henry, and a hard worker. I see great things in your future; we just have to make sure we get you there. Let’s kill it with these drafts tomorrow, okay?”

He patted me on the shoulder and then took off.

And then there were two.

From a few cubes down, I could see the desk light streaming from Tasha’s space. I desperately wanted to see what she was working on, but I wasn’t about to ask her; that would show weakness, and that was the last thing I wanted to do right about now. Instead, I turned to my proposal and read through it again, looking for any mistakes and any places I needed to embellish a little bit more.

The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound filling the silent office space except for the occasional tap of computer keys. The cleaning crew had already been through the building, apparently they came earlier than I expected, and all the lights except a few were turned off. It was almost eerie being in a skyscraper at night.