Dick Magnet: A Ruby Romp Novella
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Dick Magnet
Ruby Rowe
Copyright © 2018 Ruby Rowe Books
Cover Art by Just Write. Creations
Editing by Nikki Cherniak
All Rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
ISBN: 13- 9781727514933
CONTENTS
NOTES
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
END NOTES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
NOTES
This novella is told from the points of view of Chloe and Ben.
Dick Magnet is a Ruby Romp Novella, meaning it contains instant lust and connections, along with an abundance of dirty talk and graphic sex.
It can typically be enjoyed in one reading, so be ready for a fast-paced “get your panties wet” ride.
This story is a standalone, but if you’d like to learn a little backstory on some of the characters, read Summer Trouble and Peer Review first, previous Ruby Romp Novellas.
CHAPTER ONE
Chloe
“Oooh, yeah, call me Daddy,” Blaine says as he pounds into me. He needs to shut the hell up. We’re not making a porno here. “Do you like my big Moby dick?”
“Stop talking or we’re stopping!” I shout before I close my eyes and picture my special someone. I imagine Ben could read the Bible in the voice of Morgan Freeman while we’re doing it, and I’d still find him sexy.
I’m too tipsy to feel the pain of my head hitting the headboard, but I’m sure I’ll be feeling it tomorrow.
Focus, Chloe. Try to at least have an orgasm with this freak.
“Ben,” I murmur. Shit, I said that out loud–again.
“Cover Daddy in your sweet cream,” Blaine adds.
What the fuck?
Just–no.
I shove the guy, and he falls on his side. Shit, I might’ve just bent his dick.
“Oh, damn!” he groans.
“My bad.”
“Fuuuuck, I think you broke my cock.”
“You mean your big Moby dick.”
In his dreams. His penis is more like a pinky salute. He doesn’t even have a long enough noodle for a doctor to splint.
“And who the fuck is Ben? You said his name three times tonight.”
“Only three? Wow. I normally say it like six or seven.”
Standing by my bed, he gawks at me like I’m unbelievable. I get that a lot when I’ve been drinking. He cups his baby carrot and side of dumplings.
“You’re lucky I’m a nice guy. An asshole would’ve gone batshit crazy on your ass.” He’s probably right, but I know Blaine’s harmless.
I mean, his name is Blaine, and he plays the fucking flute. I guess the freak in him comes out during sex. I bet he likes taking his instrument up the ass, too.
“Chloe? Are you listening to me?”
“Yep.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve wanted an opportunity to get with you since freshman year, but you’re fucking nuts.”
“Hey, you’re the one who sucks at dirty talk. You need to stop watching flute porn.”
His eyes widen, but instead of lashing out, he scowls and dresses.
“Thanks for breaking my dick,” he says as he stomps out of my bedroom.
“You’re welcome!” I yell.
My phone rings in my purse that I’d dropped on the floor back when I thought Blaine had potential. Leaning over the side of my bed, I root around for it and see that it’s Ben calling.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly.
“Hi. I was just checking to see that you made it home safely.”
“Yep.”
“Do you have company?” He sounds reluctant to ask.
“No. I pissed him off.”
“What did you say?”
“He’s lucky I didn’t tell him his dick was the size of my pinky. I did almost break it, though.”
“Fuck, Chloe. One of these days, a guy’s going to hurt you.”
I roll my eyes. “This asshat wanted me to call him Daddy. He had it coming.”
“Jesus. I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“You mean lack thereof. It’s more like a sexual bloopers show.” If Ben only knew he gets an honorable mention during each episode. Since I know he genuinely worries, I meekly say, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Are we still going to the Halloween party tomorrow night?”
“I’ll have to meet you there. I’m helping Laurel get ready first.”
“All right. Get some rest, and be sure your door’s locked.”
“Yes, Big Daddy.” I giggle, and although I’m sure he doesn’t want to, Ben laughs, too.
“Night, C.C.”
“Good night, Benjamin.”
Ben
“I don’t think I’ve said this since last Halloween, so it’s time,” my friend Nick says.
Since I know where this conversation is headed, I roll my eyes and turn to face him. My back is to the kitchen now, where Chloe is hanging out with a douchebag. The guy’s wearing a tan leather jacket that looks straight out of the seventies.
Back to Nick… He’s so full of shit. He mentions my pathetic behavior with Chloe at least once every couple of months. “It’s your senior year of college,” he adds. “Do you really want to spend it babysitting a chick you can’t get with?”
“I care about her, so I have to protect her from dickheads like the one she’s with now.” I fight the urge to look back at Chloe.
After taking a drink of beer, Nick tugs on the bill of his ball cap.
“You don’t only care; you love her, and since she hasn’t reciprocated in the three years I’ve known you, it’s time to move on. You need a sober fuck.” He looks around the packed family room of the fraternity house.
“What do you mean by a sober fuck?”
“Since our freshman year, you’ve only slept with a handful of chicks, and you were drunk every time.”
“That’s not true. I dated Jennifer for a month and Allison for two.”
“OK, but you were drunk the first time you slept with them, and to say you dated them is questionable. You barely spent time with either one.”
Holding his plastic cup out in front of him, he moves it from left to right. “While sober, I want you to pick up a woman in this room.
“If she’s a good lay, you’re going to ask her out on a date. That way you won’t be offering a pity date all because you fucked her while she was drunk. Got it?”
“Not happening.”
“Why?”
Finally having an excuse to face the kitchen, I nod toward Chloe.
“I agreed to look after her tonight. Laurel went home with Jason Nichols. The manwhore is supposedly retiring. I’ll believe it if he’s still with her in a month.”
Chloe stumbles in her heels before leaning her hip against the table next to her. It’s where the liquor is, minus the kegs, and I don’t like that she’s so close to the alcohol. She could refill her cup without me noticing.
I jerk my head his way. “If you do, you’ll get a taste of my fist.”
“Damn. I’m not the enemy here. I want you to be happy, man, and watching you follow Chloe around like you’re a dog waiting for her to drop a pussy-flavored treat is painful.”
“Any time I get to spend with her makes my day, so you don’t need to worry about it.”
“You mean anytime she breaks her five-drink rule makes your day.” He cocks his head to the side and studies her. “Hmm … that’s been happening more often lately. I wonder why.”
“She’s getting sick of sleeping with douchebags, that’s why. It’s about damn time, too. Chloe’s mine, and I think she’s close to admitting it.”
“Oh, fuck. You believe you have a shot with her now more than ever.”
Sick of his mouth, I shove his shoulder, and since I caught him off guard, he stumbles worse than Chloe did and slams into a girl on his right.
“Hey, asshole. Watch it!” a guy with her shouts.
“Shit, sorry, man,” he replies before turning to me. “You’re a dick,” he mutters, and I chuckle.
While staring at Chloe, I notice how hot she looks in the cat costume she’s wearing. The only problem is, every other man in this house has noticed as well.
The douchebag talking to her leans over to whisper in her ear. I’m pretty sure Chloe’s holding drink five, and since it’s almost empty, that guy doesn’t stand a chance.
“I gotta get her home,” I say to Nick. Without waiting for him to respond, I stride to the kitchen and straight up to C.C.
“Ben!” she says as she slips her arm around my waist. I pull her close and glare at the guy in front of her.
“Are you two together?” he asks.
“No,” Chloe replies before I can lie. “He’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world.” The guy’s smile returns, and I read the perverse thoughts written on his twitching lips.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asks her.
Taking the cup from her hand, I set it on the table.
“Hey, nooo,” she whines.
“How many was that, Chloe?” I ask with irritation. She holds her hand up and begins counting her fingers.
“One, two, two–I mean three, foooour, fiiive. Oh, shit.” She giggles.
“Oh, shit is right. It’s time to go home.”
“What the hell’s happening?” Mr. Douche asks with a furrowed brow. I can barely see his forehead below his shaggy, hipster hair. This guy’s not even Chloe’s type.
“I’m taking her home; that’s what’s happening. She’s drunk, so you’re not touching her.”
He looks me up and down, and I’m not worried. He can’t take me, and he knows it. On top of that, he doesn’t appear drunk, so I doubt he’s stupid enough to try.
But, that only makes me want to kick his ass more. He was planning to take advantage of Chloe tonight, knowing damn well she’s too intoxicated to give consent. Yes, I’ve slept with drunk girls, but in my defense, I was in no better shape than they were at the time.
“You’re an asshole,” he says.
“And you need to walk away while you still have two working legs that allow it.”
Shaking his head, he leaves the kitchen, so I take Chloe’s hand and pull her behind me. I hear her spiked heels tapping the floor until we reach the old carpet in the family room.
“You’re going too fast,” she whines. For fuck’s sake, she’s too mature when she’s sober to pull this shit when she’s not.
Once we exit the front door, I pick her up and carry her. I’m frustrated and want to get as far away from the frat house as possible. It’s probably because I wasn’t entirely honest with Nick.
The time I get with Chloe doesn’t always make my day. Tonight, I get to tuck her safely into bed and be the last guy who looks at her beautiful face, but most nights when she’s partying, I have to watch her leave with men she barely knows.
Although, what Nick said is true; Chloe’s been breaking our rule more often than not. If she consumes five or more alcoholic drinks, she has to let me take her home instead of leaving with the asshole trying to get in her pants that particular night. I have to admit … I like it when C.C. wants to break the rules.
CHAPTER TWO
Ben
As I walk to my car, Chloe leans her head against my chest.
“My hero. What would I do without you?”
“Something stupid, I’m sure.”
She pokes my chest with her finger.
“That’s not nice.”
“I’m sorry. You know I worry about you.”
“That’s why you’re my bestest friend.” She holds her finger to her lips and says, “Shhhh. Don’t tell Laurel, though. It would hurt her feelings.”
“You know your secrets are safe with me.”
Reaching my grey Ford F-150, I lower Chloe to the ground and hold her arm to be sure she can stand on her own.
She begins straightening the skirt of her costume, so I figure it’s safe to let her go and open the door. “All right, sexy cat. Get in the car so I can take you home.”
“I’m a sexy kitten, not a cat. It sounds … sexier.” She giggles, and I imagine myself kissing her to shut her up. “Why didn’t you wear a costume?” she asks.
I smirk. “And cover up this handsome body?” Pressing her palm against my chest, she smiles up at me seductively.
“You are handsome.” Her fingers stalk down my sternum, and since I know she’s only flirting because she’s drunk, I remove her hand from my body and point toward the inside of the car.
“Stop before you find the kind of trouble you’re not looking for. Now, get inside. I don’t want to hear you whining that you’re cold.”
She frowns. “You’ve been bossing me around since we were kids, and I’m sick—” Shutting the door on her words, I walk around to the driver’s side and inhale the cool Atlanta air as I go.
Maybe Nick’s right. It’s always the same song and dance when I take Chloe home. She’s either showering me with compliments that would give any other guy the wrong impression, or she’s insulting me for watching over her. I’ve been doing it for years, though, so it’s not a habit I can easily break.
***
“OK, you’ve changed into your nightgown, taken your pain reliever, and I’ve plugged in your phone to charge.” I lift it up from the nightstand to show her how it’s right by her head.
“I placed the wastebasket by your bed, too, and there’s also a glass of water here in case you need to rinse the taste of puke out of your mouth.”
“You’re always the thoughtful and clever one.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. OK, I’m out of here.” I start to reach for the switch on her lamp, but she grabs my arm.
“Will you stay tonight?” Letting me go, she flips back her purple comforter. “In my bed?”
“You want me to sleep next to you?”
“It’s Halloween. What if a creepy clown breaks in?”
Smiling, I glide my hand over my buzzed, dark hair.
“I didn’t see any clowns roaming around outside the apartment complex, but I’ll sleep on the couch if you’re scared.”
“Please, Benjamin, sleep next to me.” Her plump lips form a pouty expression as her honey-brown eyes tilt up at me. How can I say no to that? I especially can’t say no when she calls me Benjamin.
“OK. I’ll stay.” Giving me a breathtaking grin, she wraps her finger around one of her long blond curls.
“Thank you.”
“I have to turn off the other lights and lock up. I’ll be back.”
I leave her alone, and after securing the apartment and using the bathroom, I head back to her bedroom. She’s curled up in a ball with her eyes closed … her breathing heavy.
Taking one last glimpse of her, I shut off her light and walk around to the other side of the bed. I strip dow
n to my boxer briefs and get under the sheet and blanket with her.
We haven’t been in the same bed together since we were sixteen and next-door neighbors. We’d fall asleep at each other’s house while listening to music or watching movies.
We were fully clothed back then, but I’m not sleeping in my damn jeans tonight. I’ll just stay on my side of the bed.
As I listen to her breathe, I question why she insisted I sleep with her. She’s only asked me twice in the past. The first time was while I was dating Allison our sophomore year, so I told her I couldn’t.
The other time was last spring, after her parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party. She was so wasted that night, and I would’ve slept in her bed with her had she not puked on my side of it just before I undressed. That wasn’t fun to clean up.
I shouldn’t read more into her request, but I can’t help but dream that things are finally changing between us.
Chloe exhales an alluring whimper that makes me want to misbehave, but instead, I kiss the back of her head and rest my hand on her curvy hip.
“Good night, C.C. Sweet dreams.”
Chloe
Feeling a warm body pressed against mine, I cringe. I don’t want to know who the big spoon is to this little one. I’m such a stupid spoon. Please, let it be someone I’ll want to see while I’m sober.
Pulling down my short, cotton nightgown, which I can’t recall putting on, I shift my body in the big spoon’s arms to face him, and the second I see Ben’s face, I jerk away. He opens his eyes, and without a care in the world, he rubs them and yawns.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?” he asks.
“How am I feeling? Really? That’s how we’re going to play this?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Did we…? You know.”
He tilts his eyes toward the ceiling, giving me his lazy version of an eye roll.
“No, Chloe, we didn’t mess around. I guess you were too drunk last night to remember, but you asked me to sleep in bed with you. You were scared to be alone.”