The Randy Romance Novelist(14)

“I might have overreacted a little. I didn’t have the best day at work.”

“You didn’t?” I sat up in bed, placed my hand on his chest, and looked down at him. “What’s wrong?”

Cupping my cheek with his strong hand, he sadly smiled and said, “Nothing you need to worry about. Now get back down here so I can get lost in your intoxicating scent.”

I giggled as he encompassed me with his arms and buried his lips in my neck. I wanted to talk more about work, but by the way he shut me down rather quickly, I knew he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, and I didn’t want to push him.

“Are you ever going to get tired of me?” I asked, still insecure about my relationship.

“Never, Rosie. I will never get f*cking tired of you. You’re my girl.”

I sighed and melted into his chest as his hands worked wonders with my breasts.

“Mmm, are you looking to get some? Because I have some ideas of how we can meet each other over in Pleasure Town, USA.”

Henry paused for a second and then spoke with his lips hovering over my skin. “We’re going to have to work on your dirty talk, love. I’m not going to lie; it’s not the best right now.”

“Hey,” I said, offended. “I thought that was clever. Pleasure Town, USA was funny, witty, and exciting. Tell me one person who doesn’t want to go there?”

“I think everyone wants to go there, love. I just don’t think anyone wants to talk about it in that context.”

“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, I would whisper in your ear, so my lips barely grazed your skin and say, ‘I am going to f*ck 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 Four


Abs and Schalongs



HENRY




I lay 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 true, my mind was also restless because of the meeting I had today with the board and the introduction of the new hire, but I was also irritated with the new member of our apartment.

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. I think suffocation might have been on his list of things to do in the near future. And two, he likes to stare . . . a lot. To the point that I felt like he was wearing a secret webcam in his collar and selling our bedroom activities to someone overseas for Internet porn. I would not be surprised at all if I ran into my white ass one day online.

When I 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 didn’t seem to take any notes. When I was finished with my lecture, he leaned forward and licked his butthole, pretty much a dick move. The little bastard didn’t even bother to hide his defiance.

I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what today might bring. Who was this new hire they were bringing in? 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 around in my intestines, breaking everything up, and not in a good way. Anxiety wracked me as I sat there and tried to think of all the good things I had to offer to this job. I tried to think of the future I could obtain if I got this job. Rosie and I could start a life together, a family; we could have everything. She could become a full-time author and really focus on her art, rather than writing about the secret formula of catnip.

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 over at her to see a sleepy smile caressing her lips.

That little smile was all I needed. I rolled over and pinned her against the bed.

“Morning,” I said, a deep timbre to my voice.

Rosie sighed and sunk deeper into the bed.

“Mmm, do you know what that just 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, called Thoughtless. There is a character named Kellan Kyle who is an absolute dreamboat. He’s so dreamy. 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 down to her breasts, I said, “I don’t think I like you having dreams about other men.”