The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles

by Meghan Quinn

  “No, but sometimes people can surprise you.”

  With a smirk, he grabbed his waistband and pulled it down so I saw the very top of his pubic region . . . and it was completely clean. The only hair he had was a well-trimmed happy trail that I thought was incredibly sexy.

  “No hair, love, and don’t tempt me, because I will show you the goods if you keep peeking at me like that.”

  The room started to grow thick once again with this unannounced sexual tension between Henry and me as he lowered his waistband to the danger zone. My heart rate picked up. I found it hard to breathe as I took in everything he had to offer. His chest rose and fell as he watched me stare at him. I felt the need to throw myself at him, to run my hands down his chest and past his waistband. I’d never felt such a strong urge to take Henry in my hands before, but I’d be damned if I didn’t want him right there and then.

  “Not necessary.” I cleared my throat and turned around, trying to shake my naughty thoughts away. “I should probably get in the shower and get some writing done today. I have some things I want to test out. Wish me luck?”

  Looking deflated, Henry gave me a soft smile and said, “Good luck, love. If you need help, let me know. You can use my dick as your model.” Always trying to lighten the mood.

  “That’s okay, but thank you, Henry. Your undying willingness to help has not gone unnoticed.”

  “Anything for you, love.” Henry pulled me into his chest, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him while resting my cheek on his bare skin. His back muscles flexed under my hands, and I loved the way his taut chest muscles felt against me.

  I was really losing it.

  He kissed the top of my head and said, “You know, you really don’t have to go out with Alejandro . . .”

  “Stop.” I laughed. “I’m going, so get over it.”

  “You’re telling me where those tacos are.” He pulled away and pointed at me.

  “Keep this up and you will know nothing.”

  “Watch it, young lady. I’m not opposed to tying you up and keeping you here so you can’t go.”

  “Will you spank me if I get sassy?” The moment the words left my lips, I covered my mouth in shock.

  Henry chuckled and shook his head. “Those books are starting to influence you. I like it. In all seriousness, I’m glad you had a good time last night and was able to recover from the pant ripping.”

  “Me too. Thanks, Henry.”

  “Anything for my red-brick-road, man-milk mutilator, pants-splitting girl.”

  Chapter Ten

  The Pussy Cat Posse

  “Do you know where you’re going yet?” Henry asked into the phone.

  “No, Henry, I don’t and I’m busy right now. If I have any chance at making this date tonight, I have to finish this article.”

  “What’s it about?” he asked casually, as if I didn’t just tell him I was on a deadline.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, I answered him, “It’s about secrets your cats want you to know.”

  I heard his short snort. I couldn’t blame him, reading into a cat’s psyche and trying to write a well-respected article about it was next to impossible.

  “Tell me one secret.”

  “Well, cat’s don’t see us as different species; they see us as larger, useless cats.”

  “Like cats aren’t useless themselves.” Henry chuckled.

  “They think they are superior and consider us humans to be inadequate when it comes to our cat abilities. That’s why they lick us with their sandpaper tongues.”

  “God, I love your job,” Henry said with amusement.

  Someone spoke to him in the background, something unintelligible, but I knew what was coming next.

  “I’ve got to go, love. Promise me you’ll tell me where you’re going.”

  “Yes, now go do your professional work. I have some cat hair to gather and braid into a rug over here.”

  We said our goodbyes and hung up. Talking to Henry on the phone during the workday always helped reenergize me, especially when I felt a writer’s block coming along.

  I had to note fifteen secrets for the article I was writing, and currently, I only had ten. I had two hours to write five more before I had to leave for my date. I would be working late, but as long as I got everything done before my date it didn’t matter.

  I was curious why I hadn’t heard from Alejandro yet, which made me wonder if he had another date. I still hadn’t heard from Lance, which terrified me because he said he would call me, but Henry told me he was doing the typical guy thing and waiting a couple days to contact me. According to Henry, he was playing it cool. I would prefer for Lance not to play it cool especially given I split my pants right in front of him. The poor man must still be traumatized. I am.

  Because I was so nervous about the date being cancelled, I decided to check my dating profile to see if he’d left me a message. Last night, I spent a good portion of my time weeding out all the creepers who messaged me, with Henry looking over my shoulder every step of the way. Naturally.

  He reasoned that since he got me involved in the website, he wanted to make sure I was picking respectable men to date. There was one guy on there that caught my eye; his name was Greg and was very sweet when he messaged me. He talked about his dog and how he loved to take him on walks in the park across the street. Henry thought the guy was a “cheesedick,” but I thought he was sweet, so secretly, I messaged him back last night.

  Did I feel like a bit of a floozy messaging multiple men? Just a little, but I told myself I was keeping my options open. It was better to have options and to be honest, I didn’t have a commitment to any of them, and it wasn’t like I was sleeping with all of them. I’d only kissed one and kicked one in the crotch, so I’d hardly call that getting around. More like taking out the male population one kick to the crotch at a time.

  I opened up my dating profile and saw four messages in my inbox. Like a giddy schoolgirl, I opened up the message portion of the website and saw a message from Alejandro, Greg, and two new guys. One was in a completely different language so I deleted that one, and the other message was from a guy named Kyle. The subject was titled, “Hey Baby Boo.”

  I snorted and opened the message. The computer took a second to upload the message but when it did, Kyle’s massive dick popped up on the screen with a bow wrapped around the base of his cock. There was a message attached.

  Rosie,

  Wrapped up a present for you. What do you think? This dick could be yours with one little yes.

  Kyle

  “Eeep,” I screamed just as Jenny walked into my office.

  “Watcha looking at?”

  “Nothing.” I practically flew out of my chair, trying to cover everything on my screen. I wasn’t much of a lookey-loo when it came to the male genitalia, but recently, I’d taken a second to study the phallic member on occasion. For research of course.

  “Oh, you’re so looking at something,” Jenny said, coming around my desk and moving my hands. “Holy crap, what the hell kind of porn are you looking at? That cock is big.”

  “It’s not a porn site and can you please lower your voice? I don’t want Gladys coming in here with her cane and bashing my head in for having a cock in her office.”

  Gladys was our esteemed leader at the magazine, glorified cat lady, and possible lesbian. We thought this because not one man worked in the office and if we even spoke of the male species, she got all huffy around us. The only males allowed in the office were the UPS man and the cats, Sir Licks-a-Lot being the ringleader.

  “Well, share, what’s with the dick?”

  “Some guy sent me a picture of himself on this dating website. Clearly I won’t be responding.”

  “Why not? He looks yummy.”

  “Jenny, all you can see is his penis.”

  “Exactly, what else do you need to see?”

  “You’re impossible. It’s a no for this guy,” I said while taking one last look at the throbb
y-looking meat sword. I deleted his message and wondered, did all dicks look that veiny up close? It seemed like his dick was being stretched to its hilt. Was that really what a boner was like?

  “You’re missing the dick, aren’t you?” she asked, mistaking my thinking for longing.

  “No, that thing was too much.” Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Is there something you need?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Just wanted to see how you were since the whole kick-to-the-crotch situation.”

  “I’m fine. I actually went on a date Saturday night and have a date tonight. I feel bad for Atticus, but I can understand why he wouldn’t call me back. I don’t hold it against him.”

  “He had a good time. He said he was going to call you,” Jenny said with a cringe.

  “It’s all right, Jenny, you don’t have to lie to me. I know the boy is in hiding. He wants nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s not entirely true. He’s out of town right now. But I think he planned on calling you when he got back.”

  “Sure.” I rolled my eyes and looked back at my computer. I opened up Greg’s email and smiled to myself when a picture of him and his dog popped up. Greg had blond hair and brown eyes; he almost had a Bradley Cooper type feel to him. He was quite attractive and his dog looked like an Australian Shepherd.

  “I can see you’re busy, but I wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened Friday night.”

  “Thanks, Jenny. I’m okay. I have a date tonight that I’m looking forward to, so it makes up for my ramped-up feet.”

  “Are you done with that article?” Gladys croaked from the hallway as she walked by with her limp and strangely grey hair.

  “Almost,” I called back.

  “Good, have it on my desk no later than six.”

  With a cough that almost sounded like the clearing of a hairball, she thumped back to her office while holding at cat to her side, Mr. Wigglebottom.

  “These are terrible working conditions,” Jenny whispered before leaving, making me laugh.

  It was true. There were too many cats, and Gladys was a loose cannon, carrying cats around the office by their scruff. And then there was the bullying—we were all tortured and abused by Sir Licks-a-Lot and his posse. The urge to write my book became more prevalent with each passing day. I felt comfortable with my plot. It was a going to be a New Adult story about two college friends who fall in love with each other after they graduate: kind of an ode to my relationship with Henry, minus the falling in love part.

  Before I went to finish my article, I took a quick look at Greg’s message and then Alejandro’s.

  Hey Rosie,

  Here is Bear and me at the beach in Delaware. It’s gorgeous there. Bear loves running up and down the beach with his favorite Frisbee in his mouth. It’s not often he gets to have free range since we live in the city, but when we have the space, I let him run free. He’s always good about coming back so no need to worry.

  I see that you work at a cat magazine. Does that mean you’re a cat person? I really hope not. I don’t hate cats but come on, how could you not love a dog better? They’d do anything for you.

  I know it’s kind of early, but I would love to meet you in person. Are you free Friday night? If I’m too abrupt, just let me know. We can talk more about the small things until you’re comfortable.

  Hope you’re having a great day, Rosie.

  Greg

  God, he was so cute. I wrote him a quick note back, letting him know I was free Friday. Might as well tack on one more date since Atticus was out of the picture. I hadn’t heard from Lance, which to be honest, disappointed me. He’d said he’d been really keen to ask me out, and that kiss . . . Well, yeah. But was I interested if playing it cool meant that a simple text was too much?

  After quickly sending the message to Greg, I clicked over to Alejandro’s message where he gave me the directions of where to meet. We had a date for six and if I was going to make it, I had to bust ass and get this article done. Thankfully, I brought a change of clothes in case I didn’t have time to make it back to my apartment, which seemed likely.

  I spent the next hour and a half writing and rewriting the last five secrets a cat keeps from you. The whole time I refrained from swearing and talking to my walls about what a stupid article it was. I powered through, printed a copy, and put it on Gladys’s desk, who was passed out at the current moment with a cat sleeping on her rather ample bosoms.

  I tiptoed out of her office, and went back to mine where I grabbed my bag of clothes to change into in the bathroom down the hall from my office.

  Delaney helped picked out an outfit for me. She said Alejandro would probably want to see me in something sexy and red, so we went with a pair of tight black skinny jeans, black heels, and a red tank cut low on my chest.

  Changing in record time, I checked myself out in the mirror. My hair was already curled, so I added a black headband and touched up my makeup. I also added a pop of red lipstick to go with my shirt. The overall look was perfect, and I felt confident Alejandro would be impressed. Now I just had to get out of the office without getting cat hair all over my pants.

  I gathered my items and opened the bathroom door to leave but stopped in my tracks when I spotted Sir Licks-a-Lot and his pussycat posse sitting behind him—staring at me.

  Instantly, I was transported to West Side Story, where the Jets walked the streets and snapped their fingers as they scared people away.

  I swear I saw Sir Licks-a-Lot lift his paw and start snapping as he stared me down, eying the black of my pants.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” I warned. “I have a date, and I can’t have cat hair all over my pants. I didn’t bring a lint roller.”

  Sir Licks-a-Lot lifted his paw at me while letting out a hideous meow. Pretty sure he just flipped me off just before he started walking toward me with his posse following closely behind.

  “Don’t.” I grew panicky as the walls of the hallway started to close in. Was I really this terrified of a cat?

  From the look in Sir Licks-a-Lot’s eyes, I was. I was deathly terrified of what the crazed feline might do.

  “Psssst,” I started saying while swinging my bag back and forth and walking forward. I repeatedly told myself to show no weakness. He could smell the weakness. “Psssssst! Shoo, get out of here, you demon.”

  “Meow, rarara,” Sir Licks-a-Lot responded while crouching down in a hunting position.

  “No,” I shrieked and, like a lunatic, took off running toward them, trying to use the element of surprise. The posse scampered away but Sir Licks-a-Lot held his ground and leapt in the air, right at my crotch with his claws out. With the best reflexes I had, I moved my bag in front of me just in time to block Sir Licks-a-Lot.

  “Ha, nice try, you bastard,” I said while walking toward my office.

  It wasn’t until he clawed my hand did I realize he’d attached himself to my bag like a piece of Velcro and held on for his damn life.

  “Ack, get,” I yelled, shaking my bag, but he held on strong. I didn’t have time to fight with the beast, so I tossed the clothing bag to the side—with him attached—grabbed my purse from my desk, and sprinted toward the lobby where I frantically pressed the elevator button. I turned toward my office and saw Sir Licks-a-Lot peek his head out of my doorway and spot me. Like a predator, he started walking toward me with only thoughts of spreading mounds and mounds of cat hair on my pants.

  “Come on, come on,” I spoke to the elevator as he drew closer.

  The magical bing of the elevator door sounded off and the doors opened. Quickly, I got in and started pressing the lobby button over and over. The doors began to shut and that’s when I called out to Sir Licks-a-Lot. “Ha, ha, you little shit, nice try. You and your pussycat posse can go to hell.”

  Just as the last words flew out of my mouth, the elevator doors closed, and I rested against the wall.

  “Interesting work environment,” a deep voice sounded from the
other side of the elevator, scaring the ever-living piss right out of me.

  My body flew against the side, and my hand held on to my chest, right where my heart was beating rapidly.

  “Oh my goodness, I didn’t see you there,” I said to a dark-haired, handsome man wearing a smart suit who was eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Sorry, I suppose. Should I warn you next time you enter an elevator?”

  “No, sorry. I was distracted.”

  “By that terrifying cat? I can see why. I’m guessing you work at Friendly Felines.”

  “I do, unfortunately,” I admitted and shrugged my shoulders. “It pays the bills, but sometimes, like tonight, I wonder if I would be better off being a waitress. I wouldn’t have to deal with the demon-possessed cats.”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t be able to meet strange men like me in the elevator.” He smiled a very bright white smile.

  “Is that a pick-up line?” I asked, slightly confused.

  “Was it that bad?” He winced.

  “No, I think I might be dense.” I laughed.

  He held out his hand and said, “Phillip.”

  “Rosie,” I replied, shaking his strong and very large hand.

  “What a beautiful name, Rosie. How come I’ve never met you in the elevator before?”

  “I normally don’t work this late, but I had a deadline and procrastinated too much today. So here I am, leaving the office late.”

  “Makes sense. Why were you running away from that cat? You looked slightly crazy yelling at it through the crack of the elevator doors.”

  Laughing, I replied, “I didn’t want to get cat hair all over my black pants. I forgot my lint roller.”

  Normally, I would rather drop dead than talk to a guy in an elevator, because I’d been extremely shy my entire life when it came to the opposite sex. But with my new goal in life, I was feeling more confident, hence, I could carry on a conversation without sweating a pool for the cats in the office to swim in.

  Nodding in understanding, he eyed my pants and then my entire outfit. His perusal sent a wave of heat through my body. He wasn’t very subtle and my reaction wasn’t either.