Page 198 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
Kitchen utensils flew in the air as she tossed her weapons to the side and sat on the floor next to a pile of penis paraphernalia. Mumbles of discontent flew from her as bags were aggressively stuffed with bachelorette party items.
Secretly, I gave Sir Licks-a-Lot a quick pet—didn’t want to be caught fraternizing with the enemy—and then set him down before slowly walking toward the ball of rage stewing on the apartment floor.
Ever so carefully, I knelt down next to her and placed my hand on her leg. The minute our skin made contact, her head snapped in my direction, and I swear to all that was holy, she developed fangs and growled at me.
Startled, I backed off, watching her practically ripping each bag while she stuffed them in indignation.
“Can I help you with anything?” I asked, ready to be yelled at.
“Oh, you want to help now? How convenient.”
Deep breaths, I kept telling myself.
“Rosie, I’m sorry I’m late, and I’m sorry that Sir Licks-a-Lot beat you at pin the penis. He’s a tough competitor. He was at more of an eye level with the crotch . . . it was easier for him.”
The destructive stuffing slowed down as I spoke.
“If it helps, I think he cheated. Did you even see if he closed his eyes?”
Rosie pondered my question for a second while tapping her chin with her index finger. “I didn’t get a good look. I was so fascinated with his paw going straight for the crotch.” Rosie slammed the bags on the ground and pointed her finger at Sir Licks-a-Lot, who was mid-tongue-to-balls. “Rematch!”
Before I could say one word, Rosie jumped off the ground, yanked her pinned nipple penis off the wall and said, “Get over here, ball licker. We are going to have a rematch, and guess what? Henry is going to judge and make sure you follow the rules this time.” She glanced over at me and said, “What are you waiting for; come spin me.”
Honestly, was this normal pregnant behavior? If so, I feared for all men around the country. Right now, I had a tense and angry girlfriend, waiting to pin a penis to a wall and challenging a cat to a contest only a human could really win—but somehow she’d lost.
Even though the situation was completely nuts, I played along. I didn’t want any more anger directed at me. So, I grabbed Sir Licks-a-Lot and held him while I dictated the penis-pinning rules.
“All right, each contestant will get spun five times. Eyes must be closed, and there will be no feeling around allowed. Where your hand/paw lands on the wall is where you place your penis. Understood?”
Rosie nodded and rubbed her hands together, while cracking her neck to the side. Sir Licks-a-Lot licked his paw and brushed his head. He understood.
“There will be one round, final death. Whoever pins the penis closest to Derk’s crotch wins . . .” Not sure what the prize was, I leaned to whisper to Rosie. “What are the stakes?”
She raised her fist in the air and said, “Penis pinning rights.”
“Oh, of course.” I cleared my throat. “Whoever is closest to the crotch wins penis pinning rights of the apartment. Contestants, please shake on the terms.”
Rosie turned up her nose at the idea, but reluctantly grabbed Sir Licks-a-Lot’s paw and shook it.
“His foot is soft, like a creepily padded pillow,” she said before pulling away and putting her game face on. “And with that, you’re going down, ginger puss.”
I shook my head at the ridiculousness. “Who’s going to go first?”
“I will.” Rosie raised her hand and shut her eyes, ready to be spun.
I set the cat down, who went back to licking himself, and gripped Rosie’s shoulders. I pressed a light kiss against her cheek to sweeten her up and whispered in her ear, “You got this, love. No competition.”
“Spin me.”
I did just that. I carefully spun her, making sure not to make her nauseous. The last thing I needed was Rosie puking everywhere and then crying the rest of the night about it.
After five counts of very steady spinning, I pointed her directly in front of the blowup picture of Derk, so she couldn’t miss. The minute I let go, her hand sprung forward and placed the dick right near Derk’s belly button. Pretty damn close.
She instantly opened her eyes and started cheering for herself. “Ha! Eat that, you four-legged freak.” She moonwalked right into the wall behind her, stumbling once she made contact.
I reached out to steady her, my heart pounding at a faster rate from her almost falling over. “You have to be careful, Rosie.” I held on to her. “You can’t be bumping into things and falling over.”
She gave me a questioning look. “You’re being weird. Get the cat up here; it’s his turn, and if I try to grab him he’ll scratch off my face.”
