Page 48 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
Pretty sure I almost had an orgasm today just from Lance’s lips. He is so sexy and understanding and sweet. There has to be something wrong with him because there is no way a guy that amazing could be that perfect, but for now, I won’t dwell on what could be wrong. Because HOLY CRAP, I was just kissed senseless. That kiss made up for an almost shining appearance from the North Star.
Note to self: check pants longevity before wearing them on dates, because they are bound to rip if they’re old. Plus, never get asshole bleached again—bad decisions all around.
Chapter Nine
Man-Milk Mutilator
Iwas able to avoid my roommates all night last night but now that it was Sunday morning and they were starting to trickle out of their rooms from their slumbers, all avoidance was impossible. Henry was wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and that was it. His hair was pushed to the side from his pillow, creating a rather hilarious bedhead effect. Delaney walked out of her room wearing a long shirt and her pink slippers.
Together, they traveled like zombies straight to the coffee maker where there was some fresh brew waiting for them. I was that nice.
I sat on one of the kitchen stools, watching them while sipping on my own cup of coffee. I waited for the caffeine to touch their lips to see them light up and realize I was in the kitchen, waiting for their questions.
As usual, Henry was the first one to perk up since it always took Delaney longer. He rubbed the side of his hair and gave me a lazy smile.
“Good morning, love. How was the date? I tried asking you last night but you were already asleep. I hope everything went well.”
I shrugged my shoulders and smiled over my coffee cup.
Henry stopped in his tracks, mug halfway to his mouth when he said, “Did you lose your virginity?”
Is he insane?
“No! Really, Henry? On the first date?” I laughed from the look on his face.
Relief flashed through his eyes as he settled in next to me.
“From the look on your face, you can’t blame me for asking. So what happened?”
“He kissed me,” I said with a bright smile, still remembering how it felt to be held by Lance, to have his lips on mine, demanding more.
“Did he kiss your pussy?” Delaney asked from where she was perched on the counter. Her voice sounded like a seventy-year-old smoker’s. She had the most amazing morning voice ever. Sometimes when we were all drunk, Henry and I would try to reenact it, but Derk was the only one who came close to providing justice to the impersonation.
“No, why would you ask that?”
“Just wondering. Didn’t know if there were more juicy details than just a kiss.”
“It wasn’t just a kiss,” I replied. “He was sweet and tender—”
“Don’t say tender.” Delaney held up her hand. “God, I hate that word. And moist. When you’re writing, please make sure never to say his tender hands ran up my moist lady folds. God, I gag just thinking about it.”
“Okay,” I dragged out. “Moist and tender are stricken from my vocabulary. Henry, would you like me to remove any words as well?”
“Choad. That word is nasty.”
“Why would I ever use that word?”
“Who knows, you’re a loose cannon.”
That was true, especially since I was so easily influenced through the books I read. For heaven’s sake, before my conversation with Henry, I’d wondered what other things could be held in a women’s butt hole.
“So anything else happen?” Delaney asked, changing the subject back to the date.
I grimaced as I set my coffee cup down.
“The night was going fantastic—”
“Was going? Uh oh, what happened?”
