The Randy Romance Novelist(46)

“Shit, I am becoming Rosie.”

We both laughed and ordered shots, maybe they were going to be needed. In all honesty, I really was feeling off my game lately. I tried to keep it together, but with Rosie’s inability to fill her need for my penis, the whole Tasha fiasco, and the pressure at work, I wasn’t feeling myself, and it was bothering me. I felt like I was spiraling out of control and I didn’t know how to stop it. A lot of it had to do with Rosie’s erratic behavior. It was one of the reasons I asked Derk out for drinks and some guy time. I had some serious questions to ask him.

Once our shots arrived, we clinked our glasses together and downed them. I chased mine with some beer, trying to wash the harsh taste out of my mouth.

“Shit that was gross,” Derk said, wiping his mouth.

“Pretty much. I think we’re getting too old to be doing shots.”

“I’m going to have to agree with you. So, you’re having lady problems?” Derk folded his hands together and gave me his utmost attention.

Smart ass.

“Not really lady problems. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Rosie’s been acting seriously insane lately. And I know she’s quirky, which I adore about her, but this is different. Her emotions are so unpredictable. One minute she could be laughing her ass off and pointing at the cat while he licks the window screen, and then she could be crying hysterically because the cat didn’t lick vertically, he licked horizontally.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know!” I almost shouted. “But it’s true. And when she’s not laughing or crying uncontrollably, she’s trying to eat away at my dick.”

“That’s never a bad thing.”

I held up my hands in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I love sex, especially with Rosie. It’s exciting and fun, and f*ck, her body is amazing, but I honestly think she is going to break my dick.”

“Is she doing weird moves?” Derk asked, a squint to his face.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I mean. I think she is going to break my dick, like I won’t be able to get it up anymore.”

“Why? Too much sex?” I nodded, and he laughed. “Dude, there is no such thing as too much sex.”

“Oh, really? How many times a week do you and Delaney do it. And when I say do it, I mean both of you are meeting completion.”

“Fuck, don’t say meet completion. Come on, man, just say orgasmed.”

“Fine, how many times do you both orgasm in a week?” I thought my phrase sounded better, but I wasn’t about to argue with Derk right now; I wanted to prove him wrong . . . that there was such a thing as too much sex.

“Let’s see, on average?” he asked. I nodded and watched him mentally count out his number. “On average, I would say probably ten times a week.”

“Ten, and you feel good about ten?”

“I feel damn good about ten,” Derk replied with his chest puffed out. “I’ve been with Delaney since college; the fact that she still wants my dick that much is an accomplishment. Why? What’s your number?”

I played with my beer bottle on the counter of the bar, preparing to give out my number. I knew Derk wasn’t going to believe me, but I didn’t want to lie either. “On average, twenty-five times a week.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Derk’s mouth drop from hearing my number. “No f*cking way. You do not have sex on average twenty-five times a week.”

I nodded my head, yes, not able to make eye contact with him. “And that’s not even being generous. If I really had to count it up, I would say probably thirty to thirty-five times a week.”

“How is that even possible?”

“I have no clue. Every morning when we wake up, then in the shower, sometimes before we leave for work. I have to set the alarm clock for an earlier time now just to make sure Rosie is satisfied before I leave. Then when I get home, she attacks me at the door. Usually after we eat and always before we go to bed. Then there’s the nights where I wake up to her straddling me. I’m not kidding, dude, I really think she is going to break my penis.”

To be fair, I did initiate sex as well, but she did it way more than me. And sometimes, the only reason I initiated it to begin with was because she gave me those “f*ck me” eyes. I couldn’t deny them . . . ever.

“Man, the girl loses her virginity and now she can’t get enough. Well, good for you.” Derk patted me on the back. “You’ve got yourself a winner.”

“I knew that before all the sex, you asshat. I’m seriously concerned. The other day, before they went to get vajazzled, she couldn’t fit in her jeans, and she nearly lost it. And f*ck, she wouldn’t stop complaining about her * being heavy or purple, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Every time I go to eat her out, she is concerned about her * being purple. I don’t even know how to react to that. I mean, is that even a thing?”

Derk chuckled while he sipped his beer. “Dude, are you listening to yourself?”

“Yeah, I have ears. What’s your point?”

He laughed some more and shook his head. “You so got her pregnant.”

“What?!” I shouted, not able to keep my voice down. “I did not get her f*cking pregnant. We use protection every time. There is no way.”