Page 206 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
While I washed my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. My brown locks fell over my shoulders in voluptuous waves, and the cat-eye makeup I’d applied to my eyes accentuated my blue irises. My lips were plump and red, and my boobs were inches away from popping out of my dress. I really did look sexy, maybe a little over the top, not really like me at all, but maybe that’s what I needed. I was going to be a mom.
I didn’t want to be a single mom.
Henry was hit and miss these days. I didn’t want him to leave me because I was losing myself. I wanted to show him I could still be frisky; I wanted nothing more than to be with him.
Believing I could do this, I took a deep breath, blew a kiss to myself in the mirror, and moved toward the door.
I took small steps, keeping my legs closed together as much as possible. I could tell I was walking weird, I knew my tongue was sticking out of my mouth as I concentrated on each step, and I knew if I spread my legs one millimeter apart, my balls were going to drop.
This was probably the worst decision I’d ever made.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Triceratops Tits
HENRY
If she touched me one more time, I was going to rip the extensions right out of her hair and shove them down her throat.
My irritation level was at an all-time high. Rosie was late. Tasha was either touching me or touching the board members, and the campaign she unveiled today was actually good, better than I’d expected it to be. It made me wonder how much of it she actually did.
I spent all day running over designs, making sure everything was the way I wanted it, and spent countless hours with a knot in my stomach. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Rosie was pregnant, and I needed to be able to provide for the both of us—for the three of us. I’d never felt so much pressure in my life, and to top it off, I had to deal with the plastic-altered leech who’d refused to leave me alone all night.
“Oh, Eric, you’re hilarious,” she cooed, taking a sip of her champagne.
Literally everything she said, every little chuckle that came out of her mouth, was like a drunk Sofia Vergara trying to sing the National Anthem. It wasn’t pretty . . . at all.
I ground my teeth, trying to keep the tongue-lashing I wanted to give her to myself. Gripping my drink tightly, I scanned the room, looking for the one girl I wanted to drape my arm across.
There were a lot more people at the party than I expected and all people I really had no interest in talking to. Normally, I was spot on when it came to networking, and I could charm the socks off any executive, but my mind was elsewhere tonight. I wanted this campaign to be over, this competition to be finished with. I wanted to be with Rosie, snuggled up by her side, maybe deep inside her.
It had been way too long since I’d been able to intimately connect with her. That was going to change soon. We were going to see a doctor and get everything straightened out.
From the corner of the room where the bathrooms were located, I saw groups of people part as a beautiful brunette made her way straight toward me. She was taking tiny steps forward, as if she was a stick figure Barbie and didn’t have bendable knees. Robot-like gestures flowed through her, tiny step after tiny step, and I wondered what the hell she was doing.
I tried to ignore the awkward walk and took in her appearance. She was wearing an extremely tight black dress that was entirely too low-cut around her breasts—which were on display for the entire room. Fucking hot. I felt uncomfortable from the press of my crotch against my zipper.
It had been way too fucking long.
Her hair was gorgeously floating around her shoulders, and her lips looked so fucking kissable that all I wanted to do was take her home right now.
Her beautifully highlighted eyes made contact with mine and a sheepish smile crossed her face. My heart beat faster from her once-over. Pride. That’s what I felt that this fantastically beautiful woman was mine.God, how I loved her.
Ignoring Tasha’s relentless story, I made my way toward my girl, meeting her—well, not halfway, since she took steps Papa Smurf could match.
“Love, you look stunning.” I pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first, but then melted into me. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered into her ear.
“Have you really?” Fuck. How could she feel insecure about me missing her?You put that there, you idiot.Needed to fix that.
“Of course I have.” I placed a kiss on her temple. I pulled away and gave her one more once-over and shook my head. “I can’t believe I can call you mine. You’re so beautiful, Rosie.”
“Thank you. It’s all for you,” she said in a weirdly sexual way and then licked her teeth.
That was odd. I shook it off and said, “Would you like to say hi to Eric? You will have to say hi to Tasha, but I promise we won’t talk to her long.”
“Anything you want, big guy.” She leaned into my ear and yipped . . . like a Chihuahua.
