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Authors: Desconhecido(a)

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BOOK: The Romance Novel Book Club
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Chapter
Nineteen

 

The mailman delivered a package in a plain manila folder. One that required my signature. It seemed so small and insignificant to require my Jane Hancock. I decided, unlike the Matt note, I was curious enough to tear into the special package. Imagine my surprise when I gazed on yet another romance novel.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, thoughts of a bonfire raging in my head. Tempted to call Julie and chew her left lobe off, I checked the packaging. Maybe she sent it when she was visiting her parents, and I could give her some leniency. My brow knitted as I couldn’t place friend or foe with the city listed. I shrugged and decided to torture myself as punishment for going to the Black Room and having a random one-night stand within a two day span.

Maybe
The Rogue of the Long Road
wasn’t the highway to Vomitville.

 

Alexei crouched in the thick tree branch, his brothers Vadim and Filipp to either side of him. Today he would prove himself to his father Lyov and become more than just a servant in the camp. All Alexei had to do was rob the next rider to come along the Long Road and have his brothers along for witnesses. He tensed as the sound of steady hoof beats came from not far off.

Vadim slapped him on the back and Alexei nodded, his short blade already in his hand. He wielded like no other in their camp yet his father still treated him like a child. After today, Alexei said to himself, those days would be gone. As the rider approached, a heavy cloak covering their features, Alexei drew his mask down and leapt from the tree.

The horse skittered to a stop as the cloaked rider jerked on its reins. Alexei grinned, brandishing his sword at the rider. The man on the horse seemed petite in build and he didn’t think he’d have an issue in getting what he wanted. If the rider decided to run him over, well, Alexei was no stranger to runaway equines and would easily avoid it. The man, however, would lose a fine steed when Alexei hamstringed it on its pass.

“Good eve to you, traveler. Welcome to Long Road and my ancestor’s forest. Be so kind as to pay the toll for crossing our lands.”

“Gladly.” Came a gruff response as the man slid off his horse. Alexei’s grin of triumph turned to one of shock as the man charged him, a longer blade coming out from his hip. Their blades met and his foot slid back a little to gain his balance before Alexei drove forward. Killing was out of the question as the Prince would send his guards in to kill any gypsies lurking in the forest. Wounded pride and a cut purse only garnered the traveler a stern warning to be more careful about traveling alone near dark.

Alexei stayed near to his opponent, his shorter blade giving him an advantage at the moment, he dodged and danced around, ducking every swing or batting it easily away.

“Best you pay the toll, man,” he quipped. “No can match my blade in these parts.”

Still the man pressed in and Alexei sighed briefly, giving him a slight nick on the cheek. A gloved hand went immediately to the flesh wound, and Alexei swore he saw a flash of teeth. The attack began anew, his opponent obviously not submitting, and he twirled around, blocking a blow before slicing the strings on the man’s cloak. Stepping back with a big smile of triumph, Alexei’s grin wavered as he saw not a man but a woman.

“You’re-you’re a woman?” He gaped.

 

Oh no, not another bad-ass chick novel. I closed the book, afraid of the eventual scissor kick to the head followed by the heated moment where they kiss for no reason. My mental state was definitely in question.

 

 

Chapter
Twenty

 

I wondered sometimes how I ended up where I am today. Why had every chance of wedding bliss dried up faster than a nun’s hooha. Not that I was looking for marriage. Well, maybe when I was little playing with my Barbie and Ken dolls the thought crossed my delusional mind but look where they ended up. I’m surprised Mattel didn’t strike a deal for a
Divorce Court
deluxe set with a William B. Keene doll or whoever pounds the gavel on the show now. Real picturesque look at the new American family. Ugh.

Even better would be the lesbian version of Barbie. That’s right, the future me doll. Half the guys I dated might as well have had no penis just like Ken. I’m all for the sensitive male, but when they go through more tissues in a month than you do, it’s time for them to realize they’ve been batting for the wrong team all along. I can say that now that Matt disproved my theory of length times girth divided by straight equals
small penis!
Either that or he’s the exception not the rule.

Matt. His manhood wouldn’t leave my sick twisted mind any time soon. I’d been good and not gone on another silicone fuck fest last night. I’d made it until noon without giving in too.

Believe me when I say for me that is an accomplishment. Instead, I dove into my work with a passion. I even got some website work completed to up the ante on my business. My plush savings would only last so long.

Rogue of the Long Road
had invisibly waved at me a couple of times too, but I abstained from that. The book seemed surreal compared to the others. The lead male didn’t have any performance issues when thinking about the leading woman, and she certainly didn’t go into a huff when she caught him stabbing some screaming wench with his wood. In fact, they seemed to cover for each other.

I decided I really needed to figure out whether I even wanted to be married. It wasn’t like putting a ring on your finger stopped people from cheating or magically made them treat each other better. What was so special about marriage anyways? Did you really need some elaborate ceremony to prove who the person was you wanted to spend the rest of your life with or was just promising forever enough?

In your typical romance novel, the men and women came together like a fireworks display on a patriotic holiday.
Sparks
fly, ignite, and cause deep unending passion to blossom. Half the time authors put a little blurb at the end just to prove the love stayed the test of time and fourteen billion brats pinched out of a still-perfect vagina. Amazingly not on ounce of ‘happy fat’ ever shows either.

I had a guy once who said I was the one. I was maybe twenty-five at the time, and my career was just getting good. He did the ring bit and promised an arm’s length of stuff to me. You know, typical male bullshit. Well I happened to be using his computer when mine went on the fritz and found he was getting some on the side from a girl in his office. Through her I heard about another girl he claimed he’d broken it off with to get with this girl. All the while he was pledging his undying love to me.

Pig.

His computer might have ‘accidentally’ fallen out of his third story apartment. I warned him having it set up by the window wasn’t a good idea.

He had also been a creature of habit and visited the porcelain throne like clockwork when he got home from work. I jammed it full of TP before packing up my things and leaving. I didn’t get to see the gloriousness of my petty work, but I heard the two floors below him went to the tenant’s board to get him evicted.

Julie gave me a place to stay, the great friend she was, and helped me pick my current abode out. Since that day, I never gave up my own place no matter how adoring the man who pretended to worship me was. Life’s too short not to have a backup plan.

Was Matt my backup guy? Had I already put him on the back burner?

No. I hadn’t even gone all the way with him except in my very, very wet dreams. I picked up my cell phone and gnawed on my lip. Up and down I slid the electronic device open and shut, seriously thinking if calling him would just make things worse. I thumbed through my presets and punched the send button before I could change my mind.

It rang … and rang … and rang. Just as I was about to give up, his voicemail picked up.

Last chance to not make a total dork out of yourself, Patricia. Hang up now before you regret it and… and…

“Hi, Matt. It’s Patricia … um, yeah. I was wondering if we could, you know, wipe the slate clean? Call me.” I stared at the phone before closing it and setting it down. I don’t know how long I stood there zoned out. I only knew that the phone never rang until Julie called later that evening for our dinner plans.

I’m so pathetic, I swear.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

Yeah, that’s right. Pathetic. I was like a schoolgirl with a crush except it’s not the high school quarterback I wanted to fawn over, it’s a mammoth cock. Sure, sure. I thought Matt, as a person, could be very likeable. Hell, I could spend an evening with him just talking about nothing. I’d just prefer our conversations go on the lines of religion. As in, “Oh God! That’s it! Right there! Oh Jesus! Here I come!” If it ended with both of our clothes still intact, I could deal with that easy.

The problem was all me. Did I really want any relationship that carried the responsibility of the word commitment? That was a big step. I mean, I really didn’t have to worry about my parents showing up at the front door as I was banging some hapless man right on the living room floor. They lived far enough away that I didn’t really worry about it. Once they caught me with a guy and his hands with a fist full of my ta-tas. Best crimson complexion in the world. I could have rivaled a pickled egg for sure.

“Patricia!” My parents had admonished as the guy beat a hasty exit when he realized their wrath was centered on me. “We raised you better than this. A woman’s breasts are not for pleasure! They are for nurturing the children that you have after you’ve been married!”

I often wondered what would have happened if I told them he was a pre-med gyno making sure I didn’t have cancer of the boobs. Or if they’d caught him with a fist full of taco instead. That would have earned me a trip straight to the nunnery for sure. I firmly believe that the only time my parents had sex was to have me. Sure I’ve read that the more embarrassed people are about sexual conversations, the more kinky they were in the bedroom, but I’m here to state that my parents didn’t fit that mold at all. Trust me, I scoured every inch of their bedroom to find one shred of evidence to the contrary.

They had a full-fledged Catholic cross above the bed. The malnourished Christ with his bloody nails, staring out pitifully over a bed of pristine white sheets. How could anyone do the deed with that staring down? I couldn’t even do that and, believe me, I tried. It was like Jesus was shaking his head and going, “You’re parents were right. You are fucking your way to Hell”. Okay I’m not sure Jesus would use the word ‘fuck’, but that was the gist of it.

If you’re wondering, I settled for the bell tower after my freshmen year at college. I couldn’t hear for a week when the damn things went off just as I came.

Dressed for the evening, I went casual. A pair of pull up pants and a hockey jersey I’d stolen from a previous boyfriend. Hartford Whalers classic one of a kind beauty.

I combed my hair, half-tempted to just throw it up in a ponytail catastrophe. I wasn’t on the prowl officially. I figured if I could snag a guy looking like this, he was the one because trust me when I say any man who wants their woman dressed up for every single time they walk out the door? Well, they better be prepared like good little Eagle Scouts to wait two hours or so for the magic to work. We don’t have fairy godmothers waving their wands when a man wanted some arm candy. He was certainly not going to wake up beside a beauty queen every morning.

Deal with it.

Fuck it, I wasn’t shaving anything either. A bra did contain the girls, however. If it was as cold as I thought, my nipples would poke some poor unsuspecting slob right in the kisser when they went into orbit. I wasn’t going to explain that one to the cops when someone called them about an assault with a deadly melon.

Julie and I sat at the bar sipping whatever the new bartender threw our way. Ted had finally found a replacement and could have fun playing the cheery “how’s everyone this evening” guy. As for me, I planned to get half-past shitfaced before our dinner arrived.

“My two favorite ladies have come back to me!” Ted put an affectionate arm around us both and squeezed. “What are you doing at the bar? I’ve got a saucy little number you two can have a meow fest over. I really wanted to see if he could handle my little vixens.”

“So I scared Matt off that bad, uh?” I inhaled my margarita and called for another drink.

“Oh seriously?” Ted slapped my shoulder. “My brother just helps me out between waiters. You know how it is, girls. One minute they love me as a boss, the next they find out I’m gay and figure they have to suck my popsicle to get a raise.”

“Well if you’re anything like your brother—”

I ribbed Julie hard before she could finish her statement, but Ted had heard enough.

“Honey, we’re brothers in the sense he married my hellcat sister. Or have you forgotten her polite conversation?”

How could I? I shivered at the prospect of ever having to talk to the woman again. The real reason Ted lingered was his new waiter stood about six feet away doing his job. Or should I say, trying to do the customers. I didn’t feel up to clicking my imaginary ruby slippers to woo the man. Besides, the back view did nothing to spark my interest.

“I’m not on the prowl right now, Ted.” I flourished my fingers along the hockey jersey.

“We’re lamenting her misspent youth, Ted.” Julie smiled. “Now where’s this waiter since Miss Pity-Me doesn’t want to play?”

I couldn’t help but follow Ted’s pointing finger. The new guy had turned from the table and my jaw dropped. He looked like some pouting model on the cover of a men’s fitness magazine.

“Patrick Dempsey?” I breathed.

“More like Josh Holloway.” Julie bit down on her drink straw, crossing her legs over. “Looks like you picked a bad time to give up cock.”

“I didn’t give it up.” I balked. “I just … just…” Had I renounced the male organ forever more? A self-imposed exile from the land of foreskin and scrotum? Part of me wanted to turn around and not get baited by Julie. Besides, she wore the classic fuck me black mini whereas I looked ready to sit on the couch with a vat of ice cream.

“It’s all right, Patricia. I’ll take one for the team this time.” She jumped off the chair, adjusted her dress and worked it over to a table in the new guy’s section. I whipped around and hunched over the bar.

“You’re giving up?” Ted sat by me.

I shrugged. “One-night stands are easy to come by, Ted. I’m not so sure if that’s what I want anymore.”

“Maybe you should test drive the new guy and find out.”

“Geesh, Ted. Is this a restaurant or a schlong factory?”

He nudged me, his eyebrows wagging.

I snickered. “Fuck it. Send the food over to that table, Ted. I’m going in.” Picking up my drink, I smirked and sat down across from Julie.

“I’ve already got his phone number. You’re too late.”

“Never too late to enter the race, Jules, and I know for a fact you still got that hot little Latino on speed dial for booty calls.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Triple dog style, sweetie.” The straw of my drink slipped between my lips as I winked.

“Fifty?”

“One hundred if you run the bases.”

“Deal.”

So our jousting began. Our meal came, and Julie used a breadstick suggestively every time our waiter came near. I must admit I was impressed with the technique. For my part, I sunk in my shoulders like a wounded animal, glancing at Ted every five seconds or so. Julie gushed when our waiter refilled our drinks, arching her back and biting her fingernail when he said something witty. The night wore on and the restaurant thinned out.

Closing time approached. Time to show Julie how to work what I was blessed with.

I smiled politely and thanked the waiter as he refilled our glasses before I signed off on the check. I sighed heavily as he left the table. Julie got a concerned look on her face. A slow smirk formed on my lips and her eyes widened.

I stood up and took off the hockey jersey. My greatest asset came into view barely covered by white tank top. I stormed over to Ted and threw the jersey at him.

“It’s over, Ted. You didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself.” I winked at him and wiped the fake tears away. I had to wait until the place emptied to act like a doofus. I had my pride, however small it was.

“Well I need more than a passing fancy, honey,” Ted retorted.

Dramatically I left, timing it perfectly to see that hunk of a waiter leaving for the night. I ‘accidentally’ ran into him with my boobs. He stumbled a bit and caught himself plus me. He smelled great, I must say, and I lingered probably to almost creepy fashion, but he didn’t push me away.

“Are you okay?” His tone didn’t lend over to a line in the win column, but I wasn’t finished with my act yet.

“I think so.” I sniffed. “Sorry about that in there. I guess I’m walking home.”

I caught him red-handed staring at my ta-tas before he remembered where my eyes were.

“I’m just surprised Ted had a girlfriend. I thought for sure he was gay.”

“Oh no. I turned him gay?” I threw myself against him and pretended to lose it. He wrapped his arms around me, leading me away from the entrance of the restaurant. A thousand things bounced in my head, namely if I was making a big mistake. Julie and I had competed before and usually I won the contests but looking back, I wonder if she didn’t set me up to win in the first place. What better way to forget the travesty of the past couple of weeks than to jump off the baloney express again?

“Wow, you smell great.” I couldn’t keep this act up forever, not with the amount of alcohol I’d drunk.

“Thanks. Do you need a ride anywhere?”

Sure do. Take me to the corner of
Orgasm Circle
and
Oral Lane
. I nodded and getting to my apartment seemed like a blur. Maybe it was the drinks or the fact that this complete stranger responded to my hopeless sexual fumbling in the car. In no time flat our lips were glued to each other’s. The tongue tango lasted all the way into my apartment, possibly giving my neighbors the impression I ran a one woman brothel.

Anxiousness swept over me as I felt his cock pressed against me as we jockeyed for position on my couch. He nipped my neck, and I strained for more. I couldn’t help myself. What the hell was he wearing that smelled so great?

The clothes continued to pile up on the floor, and I buried his face into my chest. Kissing and fondling like two land grabbers in the wild west, we both gave no doubt to the evitable outcome. I pushed him away from me, gaining the power position of on top, and I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. His hands fell away from my fully erect nipples. I saw the wild look in his eyes. Oh he wanted it bad, probably more than I did. I was going to give it to him before kicking him to the streets.

I stroked his member, my fingers gliding along watching the head of the penis appear and disappear beneath his slightly above average uncircumcised baloney pony. He groaned, and I saw his hands grabbing to pull my head down on his stiff cock.

Seriously?

I don’t think so, lover boy.

I released my kung fu grip and plopped down on the couch, legs spread and inviting. I beckoned him with a curved finger, and he went to mount up. As he did I grabbed his head and pushed him down to the Valley of the Vag. When he started to resist, I choked back a faux sob.

“Oh that’s alright I guess. Ted never did that either.”

I ran the back of my hand across my eyes and sniffed, plastering a smile on my face. Slowly his face dipped down and his tongue swirled on the sweet spot. I stroked his hair to encourage further interaction with my beav, trying not to think of the way Matt played ‘push the magic button’. My libido, poor to begin with, dropped, and I laid my head back, closing my eyes. I might not think this guy was worth the effort, but dammit I wanted to get off on something that didn’t require batteries.

I lurched my hips toward him and kept his face planted between my legs. I moaned for him, I groaned and gyrated, never releasing my grip on his hair. The hold some men were fond of while we suck on their cocksicle? Not everyone can deep throat a crotch sausage and not every woman wanted to learn the skill either yet some still insisted on pressing our faces into their groin to get their rocks off. Old what’s his name down there? Yeah, Ted told me it was his specialty and a lot of his regulars had stopped coming around because of this Romeo’s charms.

BOOK: The Romance Novel Book Club
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