Page 166 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“Thanks, dude.” The man shut the door, and from what I could assume, got back to business.
“I can’t handle this right now.” I snickered and Henry covered my mouth.
“Don’t be rude. People are trying to get off. They have the right to do so. Now, do you want to see a booth or not? Because if you’re not going to look in one, then I’m getting the hell out of here. That dildo over there is dangling pretty low from the ceiling and it looks like it’s waving at me.”
I eyed the dildo and nearly squeaked out a scream. The head was the size of my fist . . .my fist.
“Fine, which one is open?”
Henry pointed to the last booth on the right. “That one says vacant. Stick your head in and let’s get out of here.”
“Will you still love me if I look inside?”
“Yes, but if you don’t hurry up and that dildo falls on me, there’s a slight chance I might not love you after that.”
“Fair enough.” I laughed. “Concussion from elephant dong might not be the way to go.”
“Just get in there.” He gently pushed me in the direction of the empty booth.
“Hey!” I placed my hands on my hips. “What did I tell you about pushing? I’m not afraid to snap your pecker in half.”
He gave me aget reallook. “Please, you would rather die than do anything to my precious junk.”
Very accurate statement, but I didn’t have to let him know that.
Ignoring his smarmy look, I grabbed a paper towel from one of the wall dispensers, gripped the doorknob to the booth, and peeked in. Instantly, I was hit with a smell I couldn’t not possibly describe if I wanted to.
Like fuel to a flame, my hand snapped up over my mouth and nose, covering them both. I turned to Henry and said, “It’s rank in here.”
“Did you expect it to smell like a spring meadow? Of course it smells bad.”
I grabbed my cardigan and covered my mouth and nose as a filter while breathing in. “How do people even get off in places like this? The smell is way too offensive.”
“When someone is horny enough, they don’t care where they are.”
“I’m never that . . . excited.”
“I beg to differ.” Henry wiggled his eyebrows.
I swatted his chest and peeked my head in one more time. There was nothing fancy about the booth. On one side, there was a screen that seemed like it was from the 1980s with buttons to choose what flick to watch, and opposite the screen was a built-in bench, the same color as the walls. Because I was a masochist, I looked at the ground and instantly regretted it. It was spotted with white droplets.
“I think my libido just dropped a couple of notches.” I shivered, still staring inside the booth. I couldn’t turn away.
“I didn’t think that was possible,” Henry said.
“Very funny.” I turned to Henry when I saw woman walk up to us. She was the size of The Rock: thick, wide, and terrifying.
“You’re in my booth,” she said with a deep voice . . . averydeep voice.
Henry turned around and saw the yeti towering over him from behind. Instinctively, he took a step back and put his arms around me for protection. “I’m sorry; we didn’t know it was occupied.”
“It is every Wednesday from seven to nine at night. Now move.”
Sweet Jesus.
“Excuse us,” Henry said, stepping us to the side.
The lady grabbed hold of the paper towel dispenser, opened it up, and grabbed a stack of towels. “It’s going to be a long night.” With that, she locked herself in the booth, while Henry and I stared at the now “Occupied” sign on the door.
