The Randy Romance Novelist(22)
The box of noodles resting in front of Henry was dumped onto his plate, followed by some General Tso’s chicken and two spring rolls, one half eaten.
He started to walk to the couch when I whined—yes, whined. “You’re seriously going to deny me?”
“I’m prolonging the inevitable. Come on, come sit and eat dinner with me, watch a movie, and then I will f*ck that pretty little * of yours.”
“You can just say make love,” I answered back, a little irritated and frustrated that my need wasn’t being immediately taken care of.
“Then I wouldn’t see that beautiful blush cross your face. Now, hurry up; I want you cuddled into my side.”
I dished out a reasonable amount of Chinese food on my plate, knowing that if I ate all of it at my first sitting, I would want some twenty minutes later. I grabbed drinks for both of us from the fridge and tip-toed across the floor on my bare feet, plopped on the couch, and kissed Henry on the cheek.
“Thanks for wanting to have a movie night with me, even though it might not have been a movie you would have picked.”
Henry wrapped his hand around me and scooped up Chinese food with his other hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, love. Plus, Meg Ryan is hot in this movie, all innocent like my girl.”
I rolled my eyes, brought my plate to my chest, and started shoveling food down my mouth while the movie started to play. I chomped away, enjoying the easiness of our relationship. We were so incredibly comfortable with each other that the giant belch that just popped out of Henry after he took a sip of his beer didn’t even bother me.
That was a lie. I made it seem like it didn’t bother me, when in fact I wanted to punch him in the face every time he let one fly out of his mouth. It wasn’t that burps bothered it me, it was just that his were so loud they often startled me.
Our plates were emptied, our drinks were guzzled, and our burps were emptied—thank goodness. Henry pulled me into his chest, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and his lips caressing my hair every once in a while.
My hand rested across his bare skin, and I played with the muscular divots scattering across his well-developed chest. It was still weird for me to think of him as mine, to touch him as I wanted, to kiss him when I wanted my lips on his, and to pleasure him when the spark arose—which lately was often.
I was serious when I was talking to Delaney. I was kind of nervous something was going on with Virginia. I was either feeling super heavy down there, weird way to describe your vagina, I know, or I couldn’t get enough of Henry. I wanted him all the time.
Feeling a little randy after losing your virginity to the hottest man on the planet felt like it was a natural occurrence, but wanting to hump his face off the minute he walked through the door, now that might be something different, but what?
I wondered if I’d unlocked some kind of pent-up, sexual sycophant, preying on best friends from college. That was how I felt, like I was preying on Henry every chance I got.
When he was in the shower, washing soap off his body, I was peeking past the curtain to watch the water drop down his body—hence the “jacking” off earlier. When he was sleeping, my hands always found his penis, and for some reason started to rub it. One night, I found myself humping his flaccid penis until he woke up to realize his horny girlfriend was trying to guide his log down the river of crazypants. When he got home from work, I couldn’t help but grab his tie and start attacking his mouth with mine. And don’t get me started when he’s cooking. I usually found myself up on the counter, trying some kind of insane act I read from one of my books, which normally didn’t go as planned. Note to everyone out there: trying to make a sundae on a naked body doesn’t really work unless the person you’re making it on is a frigid dead body.
The need for him is overwhelming; I started considering going to see the lady doctor. A strong libido was one thing, but ripping your pants off and spreading your legs every time your boyfriend walked in the apartment, as if you’d been in some kind of Pavlov experiment, that wasn’t normal.
“Do you realize your hips are rubbing against my leg right now?” Henry whispered in my ear, breaking my thoughts.
I looked down to see one of my legs over Henry’s lap and my hips slowly rubbing up and down his thigh.
“Oh, sorry,” I nervously laughed.
“No need to be sorry,” he kissed my head again, but continued to watch the movie. Usually, if I started to get turned on, he would do something about it.
Meg Ryan was fake orgasming on screen, turning me on even more as I turned to face Henry so he had to look me in the eyes. He looked past my head for a second to watch the screen before turning his attention to me. “What’s up, love? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”
“Why aren’t you trying to take advantage of me right now?” I placed my hand on my hip, a little insulted that he kept peeking past me to view the screen.
He sighed and said, “Just a long day at work, Rosie.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that this week. You’ve never complained about work. What’s going on?”
I studied him carefully as he averted his eyes away from me and answered, “Nothing to worry about.”
“Again, that was the same response you gave me earlier. If you’re going to bring work home and let it affect our night, then I have the right to know what’s bothering you.”