The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles

by Meghan Quinn

  Puffing my chest and adjusting the straps on my dress, I grabbed my dice and shook them up. From the corner of my eye, I could see Henry perusing my body, and even though it was making it that much more difficult to concentrate, I enjoyed hearing him clear his throat and shift in his seat.

  The rest of the game was spent flirting shamelessly with Henry, trying to throw him off by bending to the side to pick up one of my dice that fell on the ground, showing off a great deal of thigh from my dress as well as leaning over, and showing off my cleavage to him every chance I got.

  By the end of the game, we both had scores that were sadly unmentionable, and my parents took the win, blowing us both out of the water.

  “Boy, what a good game, but I’m a little thirsty. Dave, come help me in the kitchen? Rosie, why don’t you take Henry down to the beach? It’s only a block away, and I’m sure he’d enjoy it.”

  “That sounds great,” Henry answered for both of us as he stood up.

  My mom winked at me as I got up too, making me roll my eyes from her matchmaker attempts. Once we were out of eyesight, Henry grabbed my hand and walked with me toward the beach. There was a little walkway that granted people in the neighborhood access, which was nice since beach access was quite hard to find.

  “Did you go to the beach often when you were young?” Henry asked as we took off our sandals so we could walk in the sand.

  “Not much, but during the summer I took my books down here and read on occasion.”

  “God, that image is so adorable. Of course you would bring your books down here. Did you have a spot?”

  “Not really, just anywhere I felt like sitting at the time.”

  “Do you want to sit and watch the waves with me?” he asked, pressing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me to a little private alcove.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice.” I laughed as we sat, gaining privacy from everyone else on the beach.

  We sat in silence as we watched the waves crash against the beach. It wasn’t the white sands of the Virgin Islands but it was still pretty, even if there was trash here and there, thanks to the locals with no sense of protecting Mother Nature.

  The sun peeked through the partly cloudy skies, warming us against the rocks we were sitting on and shining on the waves rolling in. It was picturesque. I just wished I knew what was going through Henry’s mind.

  The way he’d treated me all day was weird; the way he’d touched me, talked to me . . . kissed me. We’d never been kissers before, so what did I do with that? Don’t get me wrong, I would kiss him again—because how could I resist him now he’d broken that we’re just friends seal? There was no going back from there. I knew what he tasted like now, what it felt like to have my hands on his body, to have his lips pressed against mine. I couldn’t back away from that, but I also couldn’t seem to gain the courage to move forward.

  “I wish I’d grown up out here.” Henry broke the silence. “It would have been nice to have the beach in my backyard.”

  “But you got to have the concrete jungle as your playground,” I joked.

  Henry grew up in the city, born and raised, so to him, he didn’t really get to escape away from his childhood home. But, he did know where all the good and cheap places were to eat while we were in college. Growing up in New York City was also a reason he landed such a great job right out of college. He’d made connections early; he did internships in high school, and so he was set.

  Me? I didn’t have those opportunities, but who didn’t like working with cats, eating cat hair every day, and writing about the different clumping formulas on the market?

  “It would have been nice to have a backyard, but I guess I can’t complain,” Henry said. “How’s the book coming, Rosie?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “All right, I guess. I still have yet to touch on any kind of sex scene. I feel like I could write one, after all the books I’ve been reading and the research I’ve been doing, but I feel like there will be a lack of energy, or spark, you know? I feel like in order to do my writing justice, I have to experience the real thing. I want there to be emotion, passion, and right now, the closest I’ve gotten to an orgasm is a fart on a face and a vibrator stuck in the vagina.”

  Chuckling softly, Henry nodded his head. “I can understand that.”

  Feeling a little uncomfortable, I shifted on the rock and continued to stare out at the water, waiting for Henry to say something else, because I was a loss for words.

  My insides were all jumbled, my mind felt frazzled, and I wasn’t the same person I normally was around Henry. Henry literally flipped my world upside down the minute he kissed me, and even though I was sitting next to my best friend, someone I could tell anything to, I was speechless. I felt tongue-tied, nervous, sweaty, like I was on a first date.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Henry said after what felt like half an hour of just sitting. He stood and grabbed my hand, leading me to my parents’ in silence.

  Was he feeling the same way? Was he feeling as anxious as me? As confused?

  When we made it to my parents’ house, they were both sitting out on the deck, enjoying a glass of lemonade. Typical Blooms.

  “Oh, there you two are. How was the beach?”

  “Sandy,” I muttered, as I tried to ignore the matchmaking gaze beaming from my mom’s eyes.

  “Oh, aren’t you a card?” My mom waved at me and laughed.

  “It was quite lovely, Mrs. Bloom. Good suggestion.” Henry kissed ass.

  “So glad you enjoyed it. Would you two like more food? More Yahtzee?”

  I was about to say no when Henry started talking for the both of us.

  “Actually, Mrs. Bloom, I think Rosie and I are going to head back to the city. We have some research to do for a project she’s working on, and I’ve been dying to get some hands-on time with it.”

  With a squeeze to my hand, he winked at my mom and gave both my parents a hug, as I stood stiff as a board from his comment.

  Hands-on time? What the hell did that mean?

  My parents led us out to the car and gave me a hug goodbye. Like a robot, I got in the car, buckled up, and looked out the window while Henry said his last farewells.

  I didn’t know what to say, what to expect as we drove away.

  Like clockwork, Henry’s hand once again found my thigh, and when I looked at him from his caress, he smiled at me and turned up the music, ignoring my questioning eyes.

  Just like the ride to my parents’ house, it was going to be a long ride back to the city.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Fleshy Popsicle

  On the way home, we got stuck in traffic, shocker, so when we got to the apartment, we were met with a dark living room.

  The ride back was full of sexual tension, something I’d never experienced for such a long period of time, so instead of trying to make conversation, I turned my head out the window and pretended to sleep. Pretended being the key word. There was no sleeping with Henry’s hand lightly caressing my thigh for the entire trip.

  Feeling anxious and unsettled, I followed Henry into the apartment as he switched on lights. Like a coward, I headed straight to my room where I could debrief my day with my notebook and possibly think about what kind of Chinese food I wanted to gorge myself in.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Henry asked as he came up right behind me.

  Without turning around, I answered, “To my room, to change and—”

  “Nope. We’re going to my room.”

  “What? Why?”

  Without answering, Henry led me to his bedroom and then shut the door behind us. He turned me in his embrace and looked at me with the most serious face I had ever seen.

  His hand cupped my cheek as his body invaded every last inch of personal space I had. My back hit his door as he pinned me, making sure I had no way of squirming away, not that I wanted to. With the stroke of his thumb against my cheekbone, I started to melt on the spot.

  His other h
and gripped my waist just as his head lowered to mine. He was substantially taller than me, so it was a little bit of a journey to have our lips meet, but I didn’t mind going on my tippy-toes to meet him halfway. Soon, my hand went around his neck.

  Our lips connected and my stomach bottomed out from having Henry wrapped around me again. All concerns I felt before—the tension, the uneasiness—all faded the minute Henry wrapped his arms around me.

  He was warm, strong, comforting, and sexy.

  Damn, was he sexy.

  Being a little adventurous, I opened my mouth and swiped my tongue against his lips, which caused a groan to rumble out of his chest. His hand once on my waist found its way to the hem of my dress.

  “I’ve been waiting so long to kiss you like this, touch you like this. God, Rosie, you’re making my fucking dreams come true right now.”

  My heart stumbled, his words hitting me hard as he started to lift my dress up until his hand met my panty line. Breath escaped me as his fingers danced along the seam of my conservative panties.

  Pulling away, he looked at me, as if he was asking permission—permission to take off my dress.

  Holy hell, Henry wanted to take off my dress and strangely, I wanted him to do it.

  With a gulp, I nodded my head, eliciting a smile from him.

  The hand on my cheek now went to the hem of my dress as well, and with precision he took it off, revealing my white strapless bra and my white cotton underwear.

  The room felt cold as I stood in my skivvies in front of Henry, my best friend. I could feel my nipples tightening, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the room’s temperature or if it was from Henry’s gaze as he looked me up and down.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” Henry said as his hands found my hips. A light throb sparked between my thighs, a thrilling sensation that was new and exciting.

  “Thank you,” I said shyly.

  Grabbing me by the hand, he led me to his bed and sat me down. This is getting serious. Henry grabbed his borrowed shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing that perfect torso of his.

  Leaning over, he pressed me against the mattress and hovered over me. I watched in fascination as his chest rippled, his skin bronzed, soft, and edible. The picture-perfect man.

  Everything I could have ever hoped for when it came to the opposite sex, it was all bottled up in one man.

  Feeling confident and beautiful because of the way Henry looked at me, I grabbed his head and brought it to my lips where I continued to kiss him. In the last few weeks, I'd kissed a few other men and had enjoyed it. But kissing Henry? No words described how perfect it was, the ecstasy, the pure desire it created within me. Kissing Henry feels so right.

  He still hovered above me, but slowly lowered his bottom half, and that was when the delectable feel of his bulge hit my thigh. Curious and thrilled at the same time, I moved my leg to test the feel of him, to explore without making it quite obvious.

  Through his shorts, I felt how aroused and large he was, larger than I’ve felt since I started my journey and that elated me. Moving my leg up and down, I lightly stroked him through his shorts, marveling in the way he became stiffer by the second and after the fifth stroke, he finally caught on to my movement and started to press harder against my thigh, turning my innocent stroke into fiery friction.

  As I stroked his erection with my leg and made out with the sexiest guy I’d ever met, my mind wandered. Was this dry-humping? If it was, I wanted more of it, so much more of this.

  “Hey, where did you go on me?” Henry asked as he pulled away. “You just kind of vanished.”

  “Sorry,” I said as heat scorched through my body. Stupid brain. “I was just thinking.”

  “About?” he asked as his head was inches from mine. From the corner of my eye I could still see his muscular arms.

  Ah, muscles, why had I denied myself such a treat for so long?

  Clearing my mind, I decided to be honest and said, “I was wondering if what we were doing was classified as dry-humping or heavy petting?”

  The corner of his mouth twisted. “I believe it was heavy petting.”

  “But you were kind of humping my leg,” I countered.

  Still smiling, he shook his head. “No, I was pushing against your leg. This is humping your leg.” With a few thrusts, he showed me exactly what a hump to the leg felt like.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little shy from how much his erection turned me on.

  “See the difference?”

  “I do.” I scanned his eyes and then sighed. “I totally ruined the mood.”

  “No, you didn’t, but I can see this is going to be a learning experience since you have so many questions. Might as well do it right. What do you want to know?”

  Instead of hovering over me, he sat on the bed and placed his back against the headboard with his arms at his side. His hair was slightly ruffled from my hands, and his eyes were full of lust. He was adorable but also sexy, and it was hard not to look at him.

  “Come on, Rosie. Let me hear it. What do you want to know?”

  “Seriously?” I asked, a little taken back by his offer. What we were doing wasn’t sexy; it wasn’t passionate, and it wasn’t something I read in my romance novels. I wished I could have had that all-consuming passionate moment with the guy I couldn’t take my eyes off, but I had too many damn questions. And beautiful Henry understood that. Understood me. God, I love him.

  Sitting up on my knees, I placed my hands on my thighs and said, “I want to touch it.”

  “Touch it? Rosie, if you are going to be a romance novelist you are going to be comfortable with saying words like dick, cock, penis, and you’re going to have to ask for it. Try again. What do you want?”

  Gritting my teeth, because I knew he was pushing my limits, I said, “I want to touch your penis.”

  If he laughed, I was going to throat-punch him, because the words coming out of my mouth sounded so foreign, I had to replay them in my head to make sure they were English.

  Being the gentleman he was, he refrained from teasing me and instead, nodded his head as his hands went to this shorts and unbuttoned them. Nerves shot through me as he pulled them off, revealing his boxer briefs and his tented erection.

  Tented erection, was that a phrase to use? Technically it straight-up looked like a tent in his crotch, but was it sexy? Tented erection, tented erection . . . nope. Not sexy, more like creepy analogy that makes you think of Boy Scouts. Ick, I should to go jail.

  “Hey, Rosie. You still with me? It’s a little alarming when you’re about to take your boxers off and the girl who said she wants to touch your dick starts to drift off.”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking. Is tented erection something to write—?”

  “No, nope, not something to write.”

  “Got it.” I smiled, grateful he didn’t judge me. “I’m sorry about all this. Maybe we should forget it. Clearly I can’t focus on what I should be doing.”

  With a loving look on his face, Henry grabbed my hand and pulled me closer so I was sitting on his lap. His erection was poking against the back of my butt.

  “Listen, I understand you’re curious, that you’ll have questions, and I’m okay with that. I want you, Rosie, but I also want to help you so do whatever you want, ask whatever you want. You’re not going to scare me away. Fart on my face, puke on my dick, but just don’t kick me in the balls,” he teased, making me laugh.

  Feeling the need, I pressed my lips against his while cupping his face and thanked him. His hands ran up my back to the clasp of my bra, making me gasp. I could feel his smile against my lips from my reaction, but he didn’t ease up. With a flick of his fingers, he undid my bra and let it fall between us.

  Instinctively, my arms went in front of my breasts, covering them from view, which once again, made Henry smile.

  “Hey, no covering up the goods.” He chuckled.

  “I’m nervous,” I admitted.

  “Why? Are you afraid I’ll nibble
your nipples right off?”

  “No,” I exclaimed.

  “You should be. I’m kind of a nipple guy.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  Laughing some more, he shook his head. “No, I mean, I love nipples, but I won’t nibble them off. I’ll just nibble. Believe me, it will feel good.”

  “But I’ve never shown my breasts to anyone before.”

  “Then who better to inspect them than me?”

  “You’re going to laugh at them.”

  “And why would I laugh at them?” he asked, toning down his jesting.

  “I don’t know. They’re not all fake and perky; they’re regular.”

  Looking me square in the eyes, Henry replied, “There is nothing regular about you, Rosie. You should know that by now.”

  Just like that, I was putty in his hands.

  My hands went to his face again as my chest pressed against his, causing an intake of breath to escape him as my lips met his. Softly, we pressed our mouths together, learning to move flawlessly as we explored each other. His hands once on my hips found their way to my ribcage where they rested for a short period of time, stroking my skin ever so gently.

  Internally I screamed with joy as his thumbs slowly inched to right under my breasts. I could feel my heart pounding against his chest. My nipples ached for his touch, for one little swipe of his thumb, but he wouldn’t go any higher with his exploration, and after a couple more teasing swipes from his thumbs, I was squirming in his lap.

  “Please touch me,” I said shyly into his mouth, making him smile.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Still not looking down, he allowed his hands to go the extra inch and finally grasped my breasts. Instantly my head fell back from the feel of his hands applying pressure where I needed it. He had a handful and squeezed just hard enough that had me rubbing up against his crotch, wanting more.

  Begging for more.

  The feel of his rigid cock against my aching center, the tender way his mouth glided over mine, and the husky scent of his cologne mixed into a sensation overload, causing my stomach to bottom out and short quick jolts of pleasure to erupt up my spine.