The Romance Novel Book Club (9 page)

Yes, I was punishing him by using my deft hands on his sizeable package. Take that.

With one swoop, Matt scooped me up in his arms, and I lost hold of his third leg. I struggled against his chivalrous carry toward my bedroom. I wasn’t finished stroking his instrument of my soon-to-be pleasure.

He laid me back on the bed, and I tried desperately to snatch it again, but he blocked my attempts. His strong hand stripped away my sweatpants, and I aided in his deviance by wiggling out of my shirt. A gasp left me though as he buried his face in my huge boobs.

How had our roles reserved so quickly? One minute I had complete control over him and the next I was putty in his hands. We were two people in heat. The slow dance I’d read about in the previous romance novels held no water and neither did I.

Matt’s masterful tongue swept along my sensitive skin. Not content with flicking his talented muscle on each of my areolas, his move between my legs unleashed every tension I had held in for the past couple of weeks.

Something I’d rarely experienced with anything but my own fingers happened. Warm fluids gushed, and my lover drank deeply. I was torn between pushing him away to float along the glowing climax before allowing him to begin anew and blinking away the tears of joy.

“Please, fuck me.” I almost didn’t recognize my own voice. The guttural quality of need poured from every vein. As crass as my demand was, Matt wasted no more precious minutes in obeying my command. My pulsing pussy swallowed every last inch of his fat girth. Too high on his blissful performance of cunnilingus, the shock of taking in his full length passed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I urged his thrusts into a frenzy by slamming my hips to him with every stroke.

I screamed his name as he breathed mine. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the soul-crushing sex. My hands fisted in his hair, another shuddering orgasm rocking my body. If it was the last time we’d ever see each other again, I wanted it to be a night to remember. I wrapped my legs around him and twisted, getting him to roll onto his back as I straddled him. His cock slid impossibly further into me and one flick on my clitoris by his finger had me doubling over.

He clamped his teeth on my nipples, and I let out the most sluttish sounds. The Lord’s name slipped out of my lips over and over again. I had lost the battle and submitted to Matt as he grabbed my waist. My fingers laced over his as I rode his magnificent cock.

His screams mingled with my moans. With every gasp from my throat, he met me with a grunt. My lips crushed into his, and he thrust one last time. Our bodies, slick with sweat, molded together as we traded small, lip-sucking kisses.

Then it hit me. Unprotected sex. Something I never did. Matt had come inside me. I felt my body twitch from the afterglow of numerous orgasms, its way of telling me it was worth it, but it still didn’t ease my mind any. Birth control didn’t prevent STDs, and I panicked in my head. I could hear my mom now with one of her speeches.

See what you get for turning yourself into a whore with loose morals? You’ll get one of those diseases where your hooha rots off and your uterus falls out. You’ve ruined my chances for grandchildren, Patricia Lynn! What man is going to want a girl with warts up to her neck?

“Oh no.” I winced, and Matt shifted beneath me. What had I done?

Chapter
Sixteen

“This isn’t happening.” I covered my chest with my discarded top. My body still sang from our naughty tango. One part of me chided I had gotten what I wanted. The other fed the paranoia of STDs. My birth control wouldn’t protect me against that.

“Patricia.”

“Oh my god… Oh my god… Oh my god…
” Those words changed meaning over the utterances while Matt and I had a round of hot steamy sex. Panic had me babbling like a loon. I climbed off of him and sat at the end of the bed. No way would my legs support me at that moment. His hand touched my shoulder, trying to calm me down.

“Oh, no,” I moaned.

“Patricia.”

“We had unprotected sex.
Oh my god!” I was smarter than this!

“Patricia.”

“What?” I whirled around to face him.

“Ding dong.” His perfect lips said.

“Huh?” Confused, I stumbled off the bed. He smiled, his luscious mouth waiting for me to devour it.

“Ding dong.”

I jumped and fell off the couch, my arms and legs failing as they thumped against the oak coffee table. I wiped my bleary eyes and the drool from the corner of my mouth.

The doorbell sounded, knocking the wind out of my sails.

“Coming!”

Just a dream.
Part of me wanted to scream but another felt the smallest of pings of relief. I stood up and smoothed out my wrinkled clothes. The romance book got shoved underneath the couch by my foot before I walked over to the door. The last thing I wanted anyone to see was the trash I tormented myself by reading.

The doorbell chimed again, and I began to wonder. Maybe it wasn’t a dream but a vision of something to come. I could be better prepared and … and … be a total whore. Stupid Catholic upbringing would ruin me yet. I smiled, determined not to wage war if Matt was on the other side of the door but to coax him into my bedroom to finish what we started before. Opening it, I had to force the smile to stay to hide my disappointment.

“Hi, Ted!”

He held out the bag of food. I took it, not really feeling hungry. Life, it seemed, made me the butt of its never ending joke.

“I don’t usually do requests, but you’re more than a good customer to me.” He grinned and cocked a hip, flaring his fingers. He leaned over and gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“Come in, Ted.” I laid the bag on the kitchen counter and poured a generous glass of wine. “Drink?”

“Oh dear, yes. Nothing says tickle my lips like a good Pinot Noir.”

I slid the glass to him and got another. Ted’s cheery demeanor relaxed me as much as the wine. How could I stay too depressed with him shining like a gay pride parade? I couldn’t believe Matt didn’t make the delivery. Once again, I’d ruined another relationship. One-night stands would be the pinnacle of my life.

I had a boyfriend—Bobby Hicks—who would go out of town on occasion for his job. Obsessive, I called him every night wanting to know what he’d done all day. After a few trips, I got the worst break-up ever. Waiting in the terminal for his flight, my jaw had dropped at the sight of him walking arm in arm with another woman. He seemed proud of himself as he introduced me as his ex-girlfriend. The dumb blonde clinging to him had opened her wind tunnel and said, ‘Oh this is the obsessive compulsive one’.

Bobby had hoped I’d give him and his new fuck toy a lift. I gave Bobby a shower with the Seven Eleven Big Gulp in my hand as my response.

“I wanted to thank you for coming to the hospital, by the way.” Ted’s hand patted mine.

“Oh.” I blinked back to reality. “Not a problem. Matt and I were…” I faltered, my finger tracing the top of my wine glass.

“I asked him to bring your dinner over, but he had plans.”

“Plans?” Did I dare to hope? Maybe Matt had a big surprise for me and was making sure I ate enough to last through a night of endless sex. I made a mental note to run out for condoms.

“Something about a weekend getaway with someone special.”

“Really?” I tried to contain my excitement. The inside of my thighs thrummed and moistened at the prospect of gripping Matt’s massive shoulders for the best ride of my life.

“Yeah. He jumped in his car and headed to the airport. Your apartment’s on the way. I thought for sure he’d do me one favor.”

My heart plummeted. The dance between my legs ceased like someone had shoved a ton of coolant into my vagina. At least it would preserve my lady bits before it rotted out from lack of proper use. My warm hostess face started melting faster than an ice cube on the devil’s tit.

Ted pushed the half empty glass toward me. “I’d love to stay, but the new waiter I hired has been trying to hump every female customer that shows up.”

“Sure.” My brave face slipped a little, and I walked to the door to let him out.

“Say, you wouldn’t mind helping me get rid of this guy.”

“I’ll think about it, Ted.” I’d think about what I missed out with Matt most likely. “Goodnight.”

Closing the door, I stood like a little girl pouting because she couldn’t leave the table without eating all her vegetables. I let the scent linger in my nostrils before I put the food in the refrigerator. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t even horny.

I was plain depressed. My one chance washed away because I freaked out. Maybe I didn’t want to admit, though Matt and I barely went through any dating rituals, I wanted him bad.

Was it the big L word? I wasn’t entirely sure and didn’t want to think about it. I wiped away the tears of a stupid child and decided to go back to the old singles route of picking up random guys to get my rocks off. Fuck it. Obviously I wasn’t meant for a meaningful relationship with anyone and it’s not like I wanted a million rug rats to come screaming out of my uterus. Hell, my parents were used to disappointment from me so why buck the tread now? I looked myself in the mirror, my tear-streaked cheeks flushed red.

“Hello, Patricia. Good job there scaring away yet another man.” I wiped more tears away. My image turned into the appearance of a haggard old woman. The old biddies that sat on park benches and fed pigeons while yelling at young children disturbing their precious little birdies. At home I’d have about a dozen cats all meowing for the cans of wet food I picked up at the Jumbo Mart.

“Yeah. Great job.”

I know I preached about wanting to settle down and in my heart I wanted that more than anything. Reality, though, was a real kick in the teeth. As much as I craved companionship, I loved the freedom of being able to walk out my door without having to list out every place I was going to some clingy person I had to answer to every waking second.

No, that was just an excuse. Ironic, considering my failed relationship with Bobby Hicks, it almost bordered on hypocritical.

The truth? I was afraid of commitment and the inevitable rejection that came along with it. I treated men like objects because that’s what happened to me.

I fished out
Winter’s Kiss
and opened it back up. Surely Hartley and Garrote had words of wisdom for my stupid head.

“Gods, woman. I no longer wonder why you need no weapon to get your prey.”

Hartley felt a chill sweep over her at his words. Shame overwhelmed the pleasurable time she’d had.

“You son of a bitch.” She jumped on top of him, securing the lost collar in place around his neck. She slapped the bewildered look off his face.

“Get dressed, you pig. We’re leaving.”

He snatched her arm and dragged her down on him. “No. We have unfinished business.”

“The hells we do.” Her knee plowed into his groin, and he released her.

“That is the only thing your cock will get from me again.”

My lips quivered in rage. I’d hoped to open the book up and see a nice interlude of the characters finding love for each other above all else. Something to give me hope I wouldn’t be left single the rest of my life.

Fat chance.

I stormed to the kitchen and reached under the counter, pulling out a reusable shopping bag. Out to the patio I flounced, not like the women in the romance novels but like a mistress ready to shove her betraying lover over the ledge. In a way, I was.

The lid came off of my charcoal grill, and I threw on the briquettes laced with enough light fluid to engulf a third world country. With the strike of a match, I stepped back and let the little stick of fire sail toward the awaiting grill.

The flames erupted in majestic fashion. I waited, tapping
Winter’s Kiss
on my forearm until the fire died down to a more building code standard rate. Holding the book high, I let it drop.

Sparks
flew as it impacted, and I grinned. “Die, you horrid piece of trash.” I danced around it, metal fingers in the air, jubilant at what I had created. “That’s all they are!” I screamed. “S’more fuel!”

I dug into the bag and laid out the ingredients to make my confections. I planned on stuffing my face with gooey chocolate-riddled graham cracker sandwiches until I puked.