Page 148 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“All right, then what would you say, Mr. I’m-So-Great-at-Dirty-Talk?”
“You really want to know?” Henry asked, flipping me on my back.
“I do,” I responded, my chin held high in defiance.
“Fine, with my lips barely grazing your skin, I would whisper in your ear, ‘I am going to fuck you until you can’t see anymore.’”
Sweet Lady Marmalade.
“How’s that, love?”
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yup, I think that would do it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Abs and Schalongs
HENRY
Ilay awake on the bed, Rosie snoring next to me. Thanks to the incessant crying of Sir Licks-a-Lot, I hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep for a few days. Well, that wasn’t completely true. The new member of our apartment wasn’t helping, but my mind was also restless because of the meeting I had today with the board and the introduction of the new hire.
Due to his constant scratching on the bedroom door, we’d been forced to grant him access into our room at night. This was terrifying for a couple of reasons. One, I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t planning our deaths. Suffocation might have been on his list of things to do in the near future. And two, he liked to stare . . . a lot. I felt like he was wearing a secret webcam in his collar and selling our bedroom activities to someone overseas for Internet porn. I wouldn’t be surprised if I ran into my white ass one day online.
When I’d showered, he was right there, peering past the shower curtain, circling the claw-foot tub, right on the edge, dancing dangerously with falling in. He insisted upon hacking a hairball onto my shoes every day, which looked like a piece of hair poop. Dude had to stop licking himself, because the hairballs were starting to really grate on my nerves, and it’d only been a few days. I tried talking to him, man to man, about the incessant licking, but he hadn’t taken any notes. When I finished my lecture, he leaned forward and licked his butthole—such a dick move. The little bastard hadn’t even bothered to hide his defiance.
I stared at the ceiling and wondered what today might bring. Who was this new hire? Was she actually going to be good at her job, or was she there to fill a quota?
It felt like a knife was twisting through my intestines, breaking everything up, and not in a good way. Anxiety plagued me as I tried to think of the many good attributes I had to offer to this company. I thought about the more promising future if I got this job. Rosie and I could start a life together, a family; we could have everything. Being friends for years, we'd both spoken about our long-term dreams. Many times. What Rosie had never realized was, I'd been taking notes. I knew the type of house she wanted. I knew the size of family she wanted. I even knew what she wanted to call her first child if it was a girl. And I wanted all of thatforher. I wanted all that forus.
Agitated, I ran my hands over my face, trying to wash away the nerves that continued to take over my body. To my side, Rosie started to wake up. Her arm stretched out over the bed and across my chest, where it landed on my bare skin. I looked at her to find a sleepy smile caressing her lips.
That little smile was all I needed. I rolled over and pinned her against the bed.
“Morning.”
Rosie sighed and sunk deeper into the mattress.
“Mmm, do you know what that reminded me of?”
“What?” I asked, kissing her cheek down to her neck. She wiggled under me with every touch of my lips.
“A book I recently read by S.C. Stephens, calledThoughtless. There is a character named Kellan Kyle who is an absolute dreamboat. He’s so yummy. And every morning when Kiera comes downstairs, he always holds a coffee cup up to her and says, ‘Mornin.’ I think you just made my Kellan Kyle dreams come true.”
Still kissing her neck and slowly working my way to her breasts, I said, “I don’t think I like you having dreams about other men.”
She gasped with the nip I made on her upper breast. They’re only fictional dreams, book boyfriends if you will. For a long time, they were all I had.”
My mouth hovered over her nipple as I looked up at her. “Book boyfriends?” My eyebrow quirked from my question.
Her chest lifted, trying to bring my mouth to her nipple, but I didn’t budge until she answered my question. I didn’t care about her book boyfriends; I just enjoyed watching her squirm.
“Henry, stop teasing me.”
“Then tell me about this book boyfriend. Is he more handsome than me? Dreamier? Girthier?”
A small snort popped out of her that she covered up quickly with her hand. She tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled at me. “Honestly, no. You are perfect book boyfriend material. If you were in a book, all my book friends would want to steal you from me. You’re sexy, funny, handsome, you have dreamy eyes, and your penis is perfect.”
“Perfect? How does it compare to your book boyfriend’s?” I licked her nipple as I asked the question. A sexy whimper escaped her, and her breathing picked up.
