The Randy Romance Novelist(33)
I nodded in agreement. “I also haven’t had sex yet tonight, and I think that has me all wound up.”
A snort flew out of Henry as he shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
I dusted off the back of my dress and moved along the aisles as I spoke to Henry. “I’ve never been more serious in my life, Henry. You think it’s easy being around you, with your cologne floating in and out of my nose and those tight clothes you wear that show off your butt and shoulders from behind? Honestly, I can’t be held accountable for what happens when I’m around you. You have my emotions out of whack.”
“Don’t blame this on me.” He gave me a stern look, but there was humor behind his eyes. “If that’s your excuse, I am turning it right back around on you.”
“What do you mean?”
Henry pointed up and down at my outfit as he spoke. “That dress, it’s short and it frames your curves perfectly. All I want to do is rip it off you.”
“You do?” There was an overwhelming urge in my body that wanted to Hulk-style rip my dress off, flex my boobs to pop my bra to the ground, lay Henry on the floor and whack my boobs across his face until he screamed for mercy.
Not my best thought ever.
“Of course I do.” His sexy grin stretched across his face and that was all it took.
Without even thinking, I tossed my glasses into a bowl of fruit-flavored condoms, flung my leg around Henry’s waist, which hiked the skirt of my dress up, and gripped Henry’s head so I could run my hands through his hair. With the precision of a drunk person, I wildly stuck his hair up on all ends and drove my mouth over his, clinging to every piece of his body. He held on to me so I didn’t fall, but by no means was he engaging in the same kind of throw your glasses into a bowl of condoms kind of passion.
Disappointed, I distanced myself from him and took in his appearance. His shirt was undone, he was breathing hard from the attack he just encountered, and his hair reflected the same kind of hairstyle as Albert Einstein. And yet . . . I was still very much attracted to him.
Damn you, Virginia.
Patting his hair down and tucking in his shirt, he said, “Umm, that was interesting. Want to discuss what that was all about?”
“No,” I said with a lift of my chin, digging my glasses out of the condom bowl.
“You sure? Because in the past ten minutes, you’ve threatened to probe me with a very life-like plastic penis, you’ve laughed so hard that I saw your uvula, sobbed on the dirty floor of an adult toy shop, and then followed up all of that by throwing your glasses into a bowl of condoms only to maul me afterward. Call me crazy, but your behavior just seems a little erratic.”
“Of course you would think that.” I paused, trying to figure out how to defend myself. “You just lack passion, that’s all.”
“I lack passion?” Henry asked, pointing to his chest, his perfectly tan and defined chest. I stared at his skin that peeked past the open button of his shirt and envisioned my hand running down the front of his pecs, maybe giving his nipples a little tweak. “Are you listening to me?”
“Huh?” I asked, drawing my attention away from his chest and giving him an innocent smile.
“You’re impossible.”
Without letting me answer, he grabbed me by the shoulder and brought me over to the party section, but not before grabbing some elephant-sized condoms for the leg game. Still wasn’t sure about all that just yet; I would keep it on the back burner for now.
There was a wall of the shop set up for people just like us, looking to spend an obscene amount of money on trinkets that would most likely be thrown out in the morning. Everything was cheap, flimsy, and phallicy; just what Delaney wanted.
“I’m going to get a basket,” Henry said. “Start collecting items.”
I pulled out my list and started searching for what Delaney had asked for . . . scratch that, what she demanded.
Penis whistles, check.
Penis sippy cup, check.
Penis shot glass necklaces, check.
Penis sash, check.
Penis crown—with detachable veil with penises on it, unfortunately check.
“What do you have?” Henry asked, sidling up next to me with two baskets, smart man.
I held up my goods and then dumped them into the baskets. “There is also a miniature blowup man with an erect penis that I feel Delaney would probably enjoy carrying around.”
“I agree,” Henry confirmed, looking at the other items on the wall. “Penis candy?”
“No,” I stopped him before he could put it in the basket. “Delaney said no penis candies, hard or gummy. She apparently tested them out and thought they were gross.”
“Fair enough.” He looked around and then started laughing. “Didn’t she want a penis pi?ata?”
I turned to see what Henry was looking at and couldn’t help but laugh. Sitting on top of a shelf was a giant four-foot papier maché penis, decorated with frilly paper and a perfectly round mushroom head.
“That needs to go home with us,” I said, staring at it.
“Yup, and we have to make sure to keep it away from Sir Licks-a-Lot, because I can only image that stupid feline wanting to use it as a scratching post.”
“He better not!”
We spent the rest of our time in the shop picking out items to stuff the pi?ata with and stocking up on enough paraphernalia to outfit at least four army brigades, but better safe than sorry. Knowing Delaney, if everyone didn’t have at least two penis whistles, she would throw a fit.