Page 218 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
He was already stripped down to his banana hammock and thrusting his junk at every woman in the room. The smooth, bare and perfectly proportioned nipple man I ordered for tonight was nowhere in sight, and in his place was Alejandro with a bush popping out of his underwear and enough hair on his body to keep a polar bear warm during the winter.
“Who is this hairy abomination?” Delaney seethed at me. We both watched Alejandro put his foot on a lady’s chair and thrust toward her face. I prayed stray hairs didn’t fall into her Cum Guzzler.
I gulped, not liking the tone of her voice. “Um, I have no clue. The company must have gotten my order mixed up. Let me call them real quick.”
“Do not leave me here. If that lap broccoli touches me, I will murder you.”
“Give me one second.” I held up my finger. Alejandro wasn’t even close to Delaney; I had time.
Quickly, I grabbed my phone from my purse, ignored one of Henry’s text messages and dialed the company’s number who provided me with Alejandro. The line rang a few times before someone picked up.
“Balls to the Wall, this is Roshanda.”
“Yes, hi Roshanda, this is Rosie Bloom. I scheduled for one of your male strippers to come dance at my friend’s bachelorette party tonight.”
“Hold on,” she replied with an irritated voice. I heard her fingers clicking away at a computer before she said, “Did he not show up?”
“Well, someone showed up, but not the person I booked. I booked the guy with the giant man balls, Mahki; instead, I got a hairy gorilla who is currently prancing around the room.”
In a monotone voice, the lady responded, “Let me see what’s going on.”
More keyboard clicking.
“Ah, yes, by the way you addressed the men at the audition, we feared you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off Mahki, so we booked you with someone we thought would work well with your party.”
“What?” My voice rose. “You can’t do that. I’m paying for this service, not for you to decide who smacks my friend in the face with their junk.”
“Yeah, you signed a contract, and in the fine print it said we reserve the right to change any reservations if it seemed like our employees were at risk.”
“That is ridiculous.” I snorted. “In what way would we have harmed your employee?”
“Let me look.” It was clear in her voice that I was inconveniencing her. “In the notes it says you referred to the stripper of your choice as giant man balls and said you couldn’t wait to give your friend a black eye with his junk. The dancer didn’t feel conformable with that statement and requested to have a fill-in.”
“That’s preposterous. I was just joking.” Not really, but the lady didn’t need to know that. “I want my money back.”
“No refunds. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Oh, you just got on my bad side,” I said. “Expect a nasty review coming your way when you go into work tomorrow. This will not be the last you hear of me.”
The phone went dead. The bitch hung up on me.
“How dare she.”
I was seconds from redialing the phone number to give her a piece of my mind when I turned to find Delaney’s head voluntarily buried in Alejandro’s bush. My entire body revolted, sweat slicked my skin, and the familiar feeling of needing to be sick hit me hard.
Not wanting to make a mess near Alejandro’s crotch . . . again, I sprinted off to the bathroom, where I knelt in front of the toilet, and for the first time felt the effects of little Beelzebub.
By the time I was able to peel myself off the floor, the party was winding down, Delaney was passed out on the floor, and Alejandro was stuffing his junk into a pair of sweats. He looked up at me and smiled.
Pointing his finger in recognition, he said, “Ah, Roseanne, right?”
“Rosie.”
“That’s right. You’re the bonita that threw up on my crotch.”
“Because I choked on one of your pubes,” I said, feeling the need to defend myself. “It’s called a razor; try it.”
“Why would I do such a thing? The ladies love a man who is comfortable in his natural state of being. This right here”—he waved at his body—“is one hundred percent natural. Just ask your friend over there. She spent a good five minutes buried in my male scent.”
