The Randy Romance Novelist(52)

But the balls up on stage, the man pouch bouncing up at us, shaking its change, that was one piece of junk that actually terrified me. One slap from those in the face and you would be needing a frozen penis pop placed on your eye to avoid bruising.

He was perfect.

They finished up the song by turning around to show us their butt flexing, which, in all honesty was pretty impressive. I flexed my butt along with them, trying to stay in beat to the music, but it was hard to stay in tune with such molded man meat. I gave them credit for a job well done.

Once the dance was over, the lights came on and the lady who was helping us earlier came out of nowhere. I clapped, not really sure if I was supposed to or not, and Jenny joined in with me after she realized I was the only one cheering for the penis parade that just came through the room.

“Thank you, gentlemen. Ladies, did you see anything you liked?”

Before I could stop myself, I said, “Giant man balls was fantastic. We’ll take him home for our bride.”

I heard it the minute it left my lips. The men chuckled and man balls looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t mean it like that, like I was going to take him back to our lair so we could pay homage to his potato sack. There will hopefully be some light tapping with his penis to the bride’s face, but there will be no tongue involved. She just wants a good whack from one more random penis before she walks down the aisle, you can understand that, right?”

The room was silent, not even a pin drop to echo through the lull in conversation.

“Well, we will put Makhi on the schedule for your party. We got your deposit, so I think we’re all set here, thanks, ladies. I think you know your way out.”

Not even bothering to shake the lady’s hand or wave bye to Man Balls Makhi, we directed ourselves to the front door and let ourselves out onto the streets of New York.

“That wasn’t embarrassing at all,” Jenny said, looking at her phone.

“I shouldn’t be allowed to speak to other humans.”

Jenny didn’t disagree with me. “Pretty much. This was fun and all, but I think I might have scored a date tonight, thank you, Tinder. I’ll catch you later. Go hump your boyfriend’s face.”

After what I just saw, pretty sure that was on the docket for tonight.

***

“Where the hell is he?” I asked Sir Licks-a-Lot, who was sitting on top of the armrest of the couch, picking something out of his nail with his teeth. The sound he was making was revolting, causing my stomach to roll. The last thing I wanted to do was puke because of a cat gnawing on himself, especially since all I wanted to do was pounce on Henry.

Hard to do that, though, when he hadn’t come home yet.

It was nine o’clock at night, not even a text message or a call. Mind you, I’d sent him about eight annoying girlfriend messages, and I’d called him twice, well, twice on his work phone and twice on his cell phone.

Nothing.

Not even a “Hey, love, I’ll be home in an hour.”

If the universe didn’t want humans to communicate with each other at the drop of a pin, then cell phones would have never been invented.

Being the creepy stalker I was, I checked my phone to find his location. Yes, we were those people who could locate each other by clicking on an app on our phone. According to my phone, he was still at work! Did he plan on staying there all night?

Frustrated, I called Delaney to bitch to her. She answered on the third ring.

“How did the stripper auditions go today?”

I rolled my eyes. I forgot she was the one who made the appointment.

“Just great, picked out a real stud for you and embarrassed myself while doing so.”

“Did you poke his peen?” Delaney asked with sorrow in her voice, as if it was something I would actually do.

“No, I did not poke his peen. I called him man balls.”

“Oh, I like the sound of this. Does he have giant balls? Please tell me they are two grapefruits waiting to suffocate me.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” I wasn’t in the mood to go into detail. I was annoyed, irritated, and sexually frustrated. I wasn’t one to take things into my own hands, but right about now, I was thinking about grabbing the stupid bullet and giving myself a quickie, a little twiddle-diddle.

Calling me out, Delaney said, “You sound crabby. What’s got your pubes twisted in a knot?”

“I want sex,” I shouted, scaring Sir Licks-a-Lot. Satisfaction ran through me until he started making that, “I’m going to puke” noise and arched his back. In seconds, he puked up a claw chunk and hairball masterpiece, right on my purse. Like the bastard he was, he smiled at me and then took off.

I kicked a couch pillow across the room out of frustration.

“Okay,” Delaney answered over the phone. “Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend right now?”

“You would think!” I started to pace the length of our living room. “But he’s not home. He’s still at work. I feel like for the past week that’s all he’s been doing, working. We haven’t had sex in a really long time. I’m concerned.”

“What’s a really long time? Because according to what Henry told Derk, you two have been sexing it up about three times a day. Isn’t your * raw, Rosie?”