The Randy Romance Novelist(25)

Looking for a pillow, I turned to face Henry, only to find him wailing on the bed, holding his calf in the air and screaming about some kind of horrific pain. I studied him closer, a partially limp penis flying about and the big toe on the leg he was holding sticking straight up in the air, as if someone was electrocuting it.

His toe was more of a boner than the eggplant between his legs.

“Fuck, f*ck, f*ck,” he repeated over and over again, breathing heavily, still holding on to his calf while he rocked back and forth.

“What is going on?” I asked, finally realizing he was in pain and not necessarily disgusted with my antics.

“Fucking Charlie horse,” he huffed out.

Charlie horse! How did you cure a Charlie horse? Put your tongue on the roof of your mouth? No, that was for an ice cream headache. Chew a pack of gum? No, that was for popping ears. He was supposed to eat something. I racked my brain, looking for a solution to end the pain Henry was going through and then it clicked . . .

Potassium!

Without even thinking, I ran to the kitchen, boobs flinging side to side, ripped a banana off a bunch that was sitting on top of the counter, tore the peel off, and ran toward Henry, phallic shaped fruit in hand. But instead of handing it to him, I tripped over an empty beer bottle, fell forward, and slammed the banana right in his face, shoving yellow pasty fruit straight up his nose.

Horrified, I brought my hand to my mouth and stared in shock at Henry, who had half of a banana shoved up his nose.

“Christ,” he mumbled before snorting out a chunk of banana.

Not knowing what else to do, and frankly not wanting to make the situation any worse, I sat in front of him and waited for his Charlie horse to settle down. I itched to grab his calf and massage it out, but was too afraid to make it worse. Keeping my hands to myself seemed like a better plan.

After a few minutes of rocking back and forth and breathing through his mouth, not his nose, he finally released his calf and sat back on the bed. He wiped away the banana that was still on his face and then took a deep breath.

I hated that, even in his misery, I still wanted to get back on top of him and finish what we started. Seriously, there was something wrong with me.

“Are you okay?” I asked timidly.

“I think so,” he huffed out. His arm fell over his eyes, covering his vision, while his body settled into the bed, relaxing from his recent attack.

We sat there in silence while he regained his composure. I’ve had a Charlie horse before in my big toe. I remember being in so much pain that chopping off the phalange seemed like a serious plausible solution.

Minutes ticked by in silence; Sir Licks-a-Lot was practically smoking an e-cig off to the side from the sexual display we gave him, and Billy Crystal was singing, “Surry with a Fringe on Top” in the background.

Not being able to handle the silence anymore, I said, “Did you at least like the nipple plucking?”

At a snail’s pace, Henry lifted his arm up so our eyes met, mine full of curiosity, his full of surrender. “You’re going to be the death of me, love.”





Chapter Six


Wolf Fleece Wendy



ROSIE




“Dressed like that?” he asked, looking me up and down.

“Yes, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Seems a little revealing, don’t you think?”

I stood up and walked over to a mirror that was in the living room. I took in the black outfit I had on. I was wearing black pants and a black top, but the top had some lace in the front neckline, not really showing anything.

“No. It’s fine.”

“I think you should go change, and while you’re at it, change into a swing dress so you can go dancing with me tonight.”

“I told you; I have a date.”

“Cancel,” he said, as he came up next to me, grabbing my hands so he could pull me in closer to his body. His head lowered to mine so our foreheads were touching. “Come out with me, Meghan. Let me take you on a date.” The way he spoke to me was so vulnerable, like he was trying to offer me the world, but was nervous about it.

My lungs seized on me and I knew I was going to start hyperventilating. Why was he doing this? He was changing the dynamics of our relationship. It made me so incredibly scared.

Trying to not hurt him, I said, “We have a date Sunday; we’re going to brunch.”

With the touch of his finger, he lifted my chin and gazed into my eyes.

“I want a real date, Meghan. I want a date with you and only you, not your parents and not our friends. I want to take you out, open doors for you, spoil you, and take you home. I want it all, Meghan.”



I sat back and read the words over and over again that I’d typed on my computer.

“I want a date with you.”

Ugh, I was so na?ve back then. Any person reading this story would have thought, can’t you see the man is in love with you??

I’d spent the last two months writing down the timeline of my relationship with Henry, the highpoints and the low points, the mishaps and the fortunate occurrences. Reliving losing my virginity had been an epiphany, of sorts. I’d had to recount my interactions with Henry, go back into my journal that I retired after Henry and I became a couple, and read word for word every missed opportunity I’d had with him.