The Randy Romance Novelist

by Meghan Quinn

  I grabbed her hand and looked her in the eyes before we went up to Eric. “Are you okay? You’re acting a little strange.”

  She leaned her entire upper half against my arm, her breasts heavy and protruding. “Oh, I’m just peachy keen . . . hot sex.”

  My eyebrows rose to my hairline. “What?”

  Her finger pressed in my nose like a button, while she said, “You heard me, mega penis man.”

  “Are you . . . are you drunk?” I asked harshly.

  “Drunk in love,” she answered. She whispered seductively, “I’m clenching for you.”

  I put some distance between us and straightened my suit. “Rosie, I don’t even know what that means.”

  “Henry, are you going to keep your beautiful girlfriend all to yourself or are you going to let some of us old men talk to her?” Eric said, coming up behind me.

  The last thing I wanted was for Eric to be talking to us, not because I was keeping Rosie to myself, but because she was acting really weird, and I was nervous as hell as to what she was going to say.

  “Rosie, it’s a delight to see you,” he held out his hand and Rosie took it. Eric kindly brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You look ravishing.”

  “Thank you,” she said, doing a weird curtsey. Her legs looked like she super glued them together. “You’re looking quite handsome yourself, Eric. Too bad Henry found me first.”

  “A real shame,” he winked.

  I didn’t like this . . . one fucking bit.

  I cleared my throat and played with the button on my suit jacket. “Yeah, I don’t like this conversation.”

  Eric threw his head back and laughed a deep, throaty sound, then patted me on the shoulder. “Got yourself a little jealousy in those bones. I like it. Goes to show you know you have something good with Rosie. She’s way out of your league, you know that, right?”

  I smiled down at Rosie, who seemed shocked by Eric’s assessment. “I’m well aware Rosie is too good for me, but I will hold on for as long as she will let me.”

  “Well, if that’s the case,” Eric grabbed Rosie’s arm and pulled her into his side. She winced and side stepped quickly, keeping her legs glued together. What the hell was she doing? “Cut ties with him now, sweetheart.”

  Playing into Eric’s game, Rosie looked me up and down. “I don’t know; I might get a little more use out of him, but when I’m done, I’ll be sure to call you.”

  A flirtatious wink was exchanged between Rosie and Eric, and even though I knew they were playing around, it still grated on my nerves.

  “Good to know, I’ll be waiting.” Changing the subject, Eric gestured to the room. “Have you been able to take a look at Henry’s campaign for Legacy condoms? He did a great job.”

  Rosie gave me a surprised look. “I haven’t actually. Is that what you’ve been working so hard on? A condom campaign?”

  I pulled on my collar. “Yeah, it’s been interesting.”

  Eric looked between us . . . Rosie’s face unable to read, mine, terrified that she might blow up. She was so unpredictable.

  Reading the tension well, Eric said, “Ah, does this awkward silence have to do with Tasha?”

  “What about her?” Rosie snapped her attention to Eric. Sweat started to pour out of my armpits by the liter.

  Rosie was breathing down Eric’s neck, looking for answers, and I could tell that he immediately regretted his interference with the conversation. I tried to pull on Rosie’s hand, to remind her that we were in public, at a work event, and to try to hold in the cray cray for at least an hour, but she smacked my hand away and stared Eric down.

  “Uh, just that she works here. Nothing happened between her and Henry, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Like that didn’t sound completely guilty, even though it was the truth.

  “Nothing happened, huh?” Rosie asked, hand on her hip.

  I shook my head, trying to hold it together. “Nothing. I don’t even know why Eric would bring that up. Seriously, why?” I asked, looking at him, trying to shame him with my eyes for breaking guy code. Always be cool around each other’s ladies. I was by no means guilty of anything, but Eric implying that nothing happened between me and Tasha, only made a suspicious woman even more suspicious.

  “I say stupid things in awkward silences,” he answered honestly. He turned to Rosie and grabbed her hand in his. “Seriously, Rosie. I know there was history between Henry and Tasha, but I want you to know, Henry has been nothing but professional in the workplace. He is kind of obsessed with you, talks about you all the time while at work. He’s a valuable asset to the firm, and I wouldn’t want to see pieces of his body thrown through a wood chipper because you got the wrong impression.”

  Not the smoothest backpedaling, but it did the trick, because Rosie visibly relaxed.

  “How did you know wood chipper would be my destruction of choice?”

  Eric laughed. “You seem like a girl who wouldn’t want to leave any trace behind.”

  “You’re right,” she pointed at him with a wink.

  This whole conversation was entirely too disturbing.

  “All right, well on that note, glad to know I won’t be found when murdered by my girlfriend, but I’m going to show her around. Excuse us, Eric.”

  “By all means, brag away.”

  I linked Rosie’s hand with mine, connecting our palms so I could feel her warmth, and started to walk her around the room, and when I say walk, I mean shuffle.

  Not wanting to embarrass her, in case her vagina was itching or something—I had no clue what went on with pregnant women—I quietly asked once again if she was okay.

  “I’m fine. Why do you keep asking?”

  “You’re walking weird,” I pointed out the obvious.

  “This is how I walk. Don’t you find it sexy?” She bit her bottom lip and shook her head at me, as if she was trying to be a tempting lioness; instead, it looked like she had an overbite and a spasm in her neck.

  How was I supposed to answer that question? Did I find her shuffling sexy? Well, did I want my penis ripped off in the middle of a work event, or did I want to lie to her just so she could continue to shuffle and look weird? Hmm . . . protecting my penis or protecting her image.

  I liked my dick.

  “It’s just different, that’s all,” I answered, hiding the wince that wanted to cross my features.

  “That’s because I’m holding . . .”

  “Bro-logna sandwich!” Freddy interrupted Rosie, slapping me on the back. “I didn’t know you were bringing the old ball and chain with you. You lucky dog.” He playfully punched my side, and in return, I refrained from punching him in the jugular.

  “Rosie, this is Freddy. Freddy, please don’t touch my girlfriend; say hi with just a wave.”

  “Henry,” Rosie scolded. I didn’t care. I didn’t want Freddy anywhere near Rosie. He was a giant creep, and I wouldn’t put it past him to “accidently” trip and wind up head first in Rosie’s cleavage.

  “He’s just playin’, babe,” Freddy said, grating on my nerves. This entire night was annoying me, and I was pretty sure it was because Rosie was looking fine as fuck and every man in the room knew it.

  Before I could stop him, Freddy grabbed hold of Rosie and pulled her into a hug. She awkwardly put her arms around him and gave him two pats on the back before backing away, legs still crossed.

  “Nice to meet you, Freddy. You must be Henry’s bro he’s always talking about.” The way she said bro didn’t escape me; she was making fun of him.

  Excitement passed through Freddy as he tipped my chin with his finger. “You’re talking about me at home, bro-tien shake? And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

  Rosie shook her head and interjected before I could answer. “Oh no, he talks about you all the time.”

  The devil himself resided in her small little body.

  “Bro Montana,” Freddy held his chest, touched my Rosie’s sentiment. Damn it all to h
ell. “We are going to lunch together next week, especially after Eric names you . . .”

  “Whoa, did you step up your weight lifting routine?” I asked Freddy, cutting him off before he could spill the beans about the possible promotion. Didn’t need Rosie finding that out right now, especially since something was going on with her legs.

  Beef cake himself flexed his muscles and said, “I did. Thanks for noticing. I started working with a new trainer who’s been working on my nutrition intake. We’ve been shredding, and I have to admit, it’s been tough, but it’s been paying off. What I wouldn’t give for a crumb of bread right now.”

  “You’re not eating bread?” Rosie asked, looking a little too fascinated by Freddy’s muscles. I puffed my chest just a bit and flexed my arms under my jacket.

  Yup, still had it. I just wasn’t Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, standing width wise at barn height.

  “No carbs whatsoever. It’s been torture, I’m not going to lie.” Freddy gripped my shoulder as he spoke. “Lunches have been hard because I really enjoy a good hoagie from the corner deli. I have a lot of muscles; I have to feed them, you know.”

  “You sure do.” Rosie continued to scan Freddy’s body, irking me with every pass she made. “You know, you would be a perfect cover model for books. Have you ever thought about taking your shirt off for the camera and flexing?”

  “Damn, I like your girl,” Freddy laughed. “I’ve never really thought about it. You think I could be a good cover model?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Rosie nodded, her finger in her mouth.

  I repeat, her FINGER in her mouth.

  “I’m in a bunch of book groups on Facebook, and when they’re not posting pictures of erect penises, they are posting pictures of hot men. I think women would go crazy over you. I also have some author friends who are always looking for the latest and greatest cover model. You could be him!”

  “I might have to take you up on that offer.” Freddy scooted closer to Rosie. “I could do some penis shots too; I have no shame.”

  “You should,” I said. Both Rosie and Freddy looked in my direction, and that was when I realized I had said that out loud. To cover myself, I laughed and nudged Freddy’s shoulder. “Just bro-ing ’round with you.”

  It took Freddy a second, but then he joined with my laughter, and I exhaled in relief.

  “We’re always bro-ing,” he spoke to Rosie, still gripping my shoulder. “You should see us in the office. Like two peas in a pod.”

  “I can tell, the comradery between you two is uncanny.”

  “Okay.” I removed Freddy’s hand from my shoulder. “If you will excuse us, I’m going to take Rosie around. We’ll catch you later.”

  “You got it, Brodeo. I will catch you and the little babe-bino later.”

  Politely, I smiled and guided Rosie away from the douche canoe and toward my campaign designs. “He was fun.” Mirth was prevalent in her voice.

  “Yeah, you will pay for that later. Now, you were saying something about why you’re walking strangely.” I whispered in her ear, holding her close to my side, so no one could hear our conversation.

  “Henry and Rosie, what a delight to see you both . . . together,” Tasha said, walking up to us, holding a glass of champagne in her hand and swaying a little too heavily.

  Please let her be drunk. Please let her be so drunk that she head plants into the fondue display and sprays chocolate all over her mock-ups.

  “Hey, Tasha. You remember Rosie?”

  A snarly dog was now holding my hand; Rosie’s lip curled in disgust, and she didn’t even bother saying hi. Tasha picked up on Rosie’s attitude.

  “Good to see you too, Rosie. Hey, I never got to apologize for when you walked in on Henry and me.”

  “Nope,” I shook my head. “You’re not talking about that because nothing happened, and don’t you even try to make it seem like something happened. Honestly, Tasha, neither of us want to talk to you, so take your bad wig and alcoholic beverage and go make an embarrassment of yourself somewhere else.”

  Tasha’s smile turned into a sneer, and she was about to say something most likely incredibly rude, when she saw someone from behind us approach. She straightened her posture and lowered her drink.

  “Darlene, Danielle, you look fantastic,” Tasha complimented.

  Carefully, I turned both myself and Rosie, so we opened up our little circle to let in Darlene, Danielle, Eric, and two executives from Legacy. I squeezed Rosie’s hand, trying to telepathically let her know these were important people.

  “Thank you, Tasha, you as well,” Darlene responded. “Henry, it’s good to see you. And who is this lovely lady standing next to you?”

  I cleared my throat and gazed down at Rosie. “This is my beautiful girlfriend, Rosie Bloom. She works over at Friendly Felines as a columnist and is also writing her first novel. She is an incredibly talented writer.”

  Rosie’s face went soft and her body relaxed.

  “Yeah, and we all went to college together,” Tasha cut in, slapping Rosie on the back, who fell slightly forward.

  Clunk.

  The sound of metal hitting the hard wood floor rang through our tiny circle. Rosie stood ramrod straight next to me, as all of our heads glanced down to where the noise came from.

  Between Rosie’s legs, on the ground, were two gold marble looking balls connected together by a string. As a collective group, we all bent at the waists to get a better look at what just fell out of Rosie’s dress, holding our drinks by our sides. The only one who wasn’t bending over was Rosie, who was frozen in place, in mid-handshake mode, a look of mortification plastered across her face.

  My heart beat at a rapid rate, my pulse picked up, and all I wanted to do was pull Rosie into a hug and shelter her from whatever was about to happen. I didn’t care what people thought; all I cared about was protecting my girl.

  “Oh, dear,” Darlene said, getting a good look at the gold marbles. “Are those Ben Wa balls?”

  Tasha, the bitch that she was, bent a little closer and confirmed for the group. “Yes, they are, in fact, Ben Wa balls.”

  “What are those?” Eric asked, not making the situation better.

  Rosie still stood frozen, while Tasha answered for her. “I’m glad you asked, Eric. Ben Wa balls are a popular kink toy made famous by Fifty Shades of Grey. They are used as a stimulator to flex and tighten the vaginal muscles, while also creating slight vibrations within your uterine walls . . . a little fun for the lady clenching to hold them in.”

  “Oh,” the group said together, looking at Rosie.

  She giggled and waved her little fingers at everyone. “A spicy life is a healthy life, am I right? Ladies have to make things tight so Legacy condoms don’t take away all the sensation from men.”

  Oh, shit . . .

  She realized what she said and started to backpedal. “I mean, because they’re so strong and durable. Nothing is getting through those suckers. Henry and I use them all the time, sometimes four times a day, and never once has his peen chafed. Double wrapping is child’s play when it comes to Legacy. Condoms rock!” She fist-pumped the air.

  Silence enveloped us and the need to bury my face in a punch bowl was overwhelming. I could feel the promotion I worked my ass off for slowly slipping out of my grasp.

  Not being able to handle awkward silences very well, Rosie continued, her balls still on the floor between her legs. She put her finger on her chin and looked up at the sky while she spoke. “You know, now that I think about it, Legacy is a fantastic company when it comes to latex. We had a lot of sex when I first lost my virginity, and I can’t recall a time when I thought, ‘Ouch, my vagina hurts from so much rubber rubbing inside’.” As if a light bulb went off in her head, she said, “Oh, you should use that in your campaign. No raw vaginas here.”

  Fucking crickets.

  “Any who,” she sighed and put a hand on her hip. “I’m just going to grab my balls here and mosey on over to the drink station. All this t
alking has made me parched. Can I get anyone a drink?”

  No one responded.

  “Okay, one sodie for me then. Check!” she drew a check mark in the air. “If anyone wants to borrow my balls, let me know,” she laughed awkwardly. “Just kidding, my friend Delaney said you don’t share vagina things.”

  With that, she bent forward and reached for her Ben Wa balls, when a giant rip rang through the stillness of our group. I knew it was Rosie; it had to have come from her, not just because she was now stagnant in her bent over position, holding her chest, but because that would just be her luck.

  “Oh, dear, what was that?” Darlene asked.

  “Pretty sure it was Rosie,” Tasha said.

  I didn’t know what to do, what to say. All that kept flying through my mind was giving Tasha a swift kick to the taco.

  Rosie raised her hand from her bent over position. “It was me. Just a little party trick.” Slowly, she grabbed the balls by the string with her finger and then sprung upright, like the bend and snap movement from Legally Blonde.

  Nausea ran rampant through me . . . the sweats were consuming the back of my neck, and I felt physically incapable of helping my girl.

  The minute I took in the scene in front of me, I was pretty sure my eyes bulged out of their sockets.

  Standing tall with her arms bent, hands right next to armpits, T-Rex style, balls dangling, was Rosie with two sharp wires poking out of the front of her dress, like she had a triceratops trying to ram its way through her cleavage.

  “Is that . . . your underwire?” Danielle pointed at Rosie’s chest.

  “Surprise!” Rosie shouted, raising her arms above her head and lightly shimmying her chest at the group. “Anyone want to hang their coat?” To demonstrate what she was talking about, she placed the string connecting the balls on the exposed wire of her bra and smiled brightly. “The term ‘rack’ it’s quite literal in this situation, right?” she elbowed Tasha next to her, who stepped away, disgusted.

  “Rosie,” I said gently, wanting to shield her from all the judging eyes.

  “Tough crowd,” she huffed. “Well, this has been fun, but I just remembered I have to finish stuffing the giant papier mâché penis at home. Don’t worry, I’ve got a mega pack of Legacy condoms going inside. Go Legacy,” she said, with less gusto than before.