The Randy Romance Novelist (9 page)

I turned around to face him, placed my hands on the counter behind me and unbuttoned part of the shirt I was wearing so I knew my cleavage would show. Henry had a spring roll halfway to his mouth when he saw my position.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Do you really think you can come in here, shirtless, and press yourself against me without turning me on?”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“Guess again. What are you going to do about it?”

“Eat my food,” he wiggled his eyebrows and then bit into his spring roll. He turned to grab some plates and brought them over to the counter, so we could start to pile our food on top of them.

Confused, I asked, “Are you really not going to have sex with me right now?”

“Is that what you wanted?”

I gave him a “duh” look. “Of course, why else would I unbutton the top buttons on my shirt?”

“Technically, that’s my shirt.” He grinned. “And I just gave you an orgasm and pretty sure you jacked me off in the shower a few moments ago.”

“Oh, my God!” I swatted his stomach. “Don’t be so crude.”

“Okay, if you didn’t jack me off, what did you do?” He was testing me; he was always testing me.

“I stroked your love stick,” I answered him, not playing into his stupid word game challenge.

He shook his head in disappointment. “And for that answer, I will be eating my Chinese now. If you’d said something else, I might have taken care of that little horny problem you’ve been having lately. Oh, and by the way, when I was eating you out as my appetizer earlier, your pussy didn’t look at all purple to me, nor did it feel heavy. It was perfect.”

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 fuck that pretty little pussy 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.”

“How am I affecting our night? Because I won’t have sex with you right now? Jesus, Rosie, I just ate you out twenty minutes ago and had sex with you twice this morning. How much more do you want?”

Taken aback by his tone, I sat up and pulled away from him. I could tell he immediately regretted what he said because he tried to wrap his arm back around me, but I didn’t let him.

“I didn’t know I was bothering you with wanting you. I guess I thought men liked it when their women came on to them. I won’t do it again.” I crossed my arms and sat on the opposite end of the couch. I was being a complete brat, but I didn’t care; he hurt my feelings, and frankly, I didn’t know how else to react.

Instead of “chasing” after me like I thought he would, he huffed out his frustration, went to the kitchen, grabbed another beer, and then sat back down on his side of the couch, ignoring me completely.

A foreign emotion started to settle in, an emotion I’d never felt before. Rejection, it hurt, BIG TIME.

Tears watered in my eyes and my throat began to clog up with all the pent-up embarrassment and anger I was feeling. This was so stupid. I was getting angry because my boyfriend didn’t want to have sex with me for the fourth time in one day. What kind of sex-crazed lunatic was I?

Not letting Henry see my tears, I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and sent Delaney a text.

Rosie: Why am I so horny?

A lone tear fell down my face as I sent the text message. What was wrong with me? The movie played in the background while I waited for Delaney to text back. It felt like an hour before she replied to me, when in fact it was only a few minutes.

Delaney: Why would you even ask me that question? I have no clue, maybe because you’ve suppressed yourself from the penis for twenty plus years and now that you’ve had it shoved up your hole you can’t get enough?

That was a possibility, but did people really go this crazy after sex?

Rosie: I want to hump his face every chance I get.

Delaney: He’s that good at going down? Huh, I would have thought he was more of a pumper rather than an eater.

Rosie: I don’t know what that means, but he’s good at everything.

Delaney: Pumper, as in he’s good at placing his pastry bag inside your donut hole and moving it in and out until you’re completely glazed. If you don’t know what an eater is, then we can’t be friends.

Rosie: Oh, well, he’s good at everything, like really good. Like there hasn’t been a time that I haven’t orgasmed.

Delaney: Good for you. Now, can I get back to watching my man strip for me with scarves?

Rosie: Derk performs naked scarf dances for you?

Delaney: Rosie, the boy will do anything I ask of him. Have a good night.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone back on the coffee table, which drew Henry’s attention.

“You done ignoring me?” he asked.

“Excuse me? I’m not ignoring you. You’re ignoring me!”

“Am I? Because the way I see it, you threw a temper tantrum because I wouldn’t have sex with you, moved away from me, and started texting your friend about it.”

“You won’t tell me what’s going on at work,” I shot back, knowing he was completely right about me, but not wanting to admit it.

Henry turned toward me with one leg bent on the couch. “I don’t want you to have to worry about work. There’s just been some changes that were made and I’m adjusting to them, that’s all.”

“Bad changes?” I asked, concerned.

“Different changes. Like I said, nothing to worry about, okay?”

Knowing he wouldn’t budge on the conversation, I nodded. “Okay.”

He studied me for a second before holding out his hand to me. “Come here, love. I need to feel your body on mine.”

Needing him as well, I allowed him to pull me into his arms. He moved on the couch so both his legs were now propped up on the cushions and he was parallel with the television. He guided me on top of his lap and then rested his hands on my hips.

“What am I going to do with you, Rosie?”

My hair fell forward, and he pushed it behind my ears so he could see me better. He then ran his hand from my cheek, down the front of the shirt I was wearing, where he undid the rest of the buttons, exposing my naked stomach. Exploring, he moved his hand along the side of my breasts, teasing my sensitive skin until both his hands rested on my bare hips.

His eyes grew heavy as he studied my exposed skin. I could feel him starting to harden under me, and I couldn’t help but get excited, knowing what was to come.

Not wanting him to stop, I ran my hands up his stomach, past his pecs, and up his neck until I cupped his cheeks. Leaning forward, I pressed my chest against his and brought my lips to his, where I opened mine wide enough for him to slip his tongue inside. Reading what I wanted, his tongue met mine, where they danced in the middle.

My body heated up instantly, an inferno building up deep in my core. Thankfully, Henry moved his hands from my hips up to my shoulders, where he pulled the shirt off me so I was completely naked. He got rid of the shirt and quickly found my breasts with his hands, and he tweaked my nipples with his dexterous fingers, squeezing until I yelped in his mouth.

Arousal spiked within my body, causing my hips to rapidly start to move on top of his lap; I felt his erection harden even more and could feel the tip peek past his sweat pants. I continued to kiss him, moving my hips, and letting a euphoric feeling overtake me. My body felt like it was floating on the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed over in the most delightful way possible.

“Fuck, Rosie,” Henry mumbled right before he grabbed me under my butt and stood up, never breaking lip contact. I didn’t have to look where he was taking me because within a few seconds, I was tossed on the bed, looking up at Henry, who was taking off his sweatpants and putting on a condom.

He was about to get on top of me when I stopped him and made him lie down. “I want to be on top.”

He quirked a rakish eyebrow at me, but then obliged, lying down on the bed and stroking his penis while eyeing my body. I pushed my hair back then straddled his lap. With his guidance, I slipped him inside of me and immediately sighed in relief. Every nerve ending that was begging for him to take me, for him to please me, stopped throbbing and settled in for what was to come . . . complete and utter satisfaction.

With one hand, I pulled my hair to the side and held onto it as I started to move up and down, intensifying our intimate connection. I looked down at Henry to see him staring at my breasts with his hands behind his head, letting me do all the work. Supporting my back, he lifted his knees up so both his feet were planted on the bed. I took the opportunity to lean against him and change the angle of penetration.

“I read about this position in a book once,” I said, continuing to move my hips. “The guy put his finger on the girl’s button and she came immediately.”