The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles

by Meghan Quinn

  Praying to the lords above that the thing wouldn’t pop off, I snatched my dress off the hanger and put it on, making sure to not make too many jerky movements, in consideration of the bra.

  Once everything was in place, I slipped on my black kitten heels, a red necklace to match my lipstick, and then fluffed out my curly hair. Despite the slight pooch I was sporting, I was looking really sexy. For the first time in a long time, I felt sexy.

  “Eat your heart out, Henry,” I said, while shimmying at the mirror.

  Delaney met me at the front door with my purse and a giant smile on her face. “You look so hot, Rosie. Henry won’t know what hit him.”

  “Just what I’m hoping for.”

  As I was leaving, I went to switch off the lights when I caught a glimpse of Sir Licks-a-Lot, perched on the window sill, sitting in a white fabric-like cup. He started kneading it with his claws and that’s when I realized he had my bra. I wanted so badly to go and grab it from him, but I had no time, and with my luck, he’d probably marked it with kitty smell and I would smell like a litter box the entire night. So, I let him win this round.

  On the elevator ride down, Delaney explained to me how to use the Ben Wa balls, but I ignored her, not interested in partaking in any crazy kind of vagina Olympics tonight.

  The taxi ride to the venue was agonizing. Not because I wanted to be there, but because the dress was really tight, my bra felt like it was going to burst open any minute, and any circulation my body was trying to flow through my waist had been cut off. I shifted in my seat, so I wasn’t so scrunched up and more horizontal, but it only provided temporary relief. Looked like I would be standing all night.

  By the time we pulled up to the building, I was lying flat across the seat, enjoying the ass prints of New Yorkers from all over the city. Quickly, I paid, got out of the cab with some tricky finessing, holding my breath so I didn’t pop anything open, and jogged to the elevator.

  The short trip from the taxi to the elevator seemed like a mile as I held on to the side of the metal rail and enjoyed the twenty-two-floor ride up. Damn kid was sucking in all of my oxygen, leaving nothing for me.

  As the elevator approached the designated floor, I straightened up and fiddled with my hair, using the reflection of the metal to gauge my look.

  It wasn’t helpful at all.

  The elevator doors opened to a room full of executives and partygoers, dressed in black suits and colorful dresses. They all had drinks in their hands and were animatedly talking to each other. The room was decorated simply with white and black flowers. Waiters in black button-up dress shirts and black ties milled about the room, offering drinks and hors d’oeuvres. My mouth watered as a tray full of shrimp passed by me. I would be getting my fingers on one of those bad boys in a bit.

  In the sea of black, it was hard to locate Henry. It wasn’t until I scooted farther into the room that I found him talking to his boss, Eric, and of course . . . Tasha. From a distance, I observed them together. She was incredibly gorgeous in a red turtleneck dress that clung to every part of her thin body. Her arms were perfectly toned, and surprisingly, her boobs were covered, except for the keyhole in her dress that just so happened to fall over the line of her cleavage.

  She conversed easily with Henry and Eric, touching Henry’s arm occasionally while she laughed. It took everything in me not to shove my heel through her eye socket.

  Their interactions almost seemed so incredibly natural, as if they were made for each other, and at that moment, I no longer felt sexy. I felt like the frumpy girlfriend who was too big to fit in her dress. Tears started to well in my eyes, and before they could fall over and ruin my makeup, I dashed off to the bathroom, where I locked myself in a stall and took deep breaths.

  Needing some encouragement, I dialed Delaney on my phone and prayed she picked up.

  On the second ring, she answered, “Hello?”

  “Delaney, I can’t do this. She’s so pretty and I barely fit in my dress. What was I thinking when I chose this outfit? I look like a stuffed sausage trying to expand out of its casing.”

  “Are you insane?” Delaney said before I could say anything else. “You look gorgeous, Rosie. You look sexy as hell, and the minute Henry sees you, he will fall at your feet. Now, have you put the balls in yet?”

  “No,” I replied quietly.

  A long, drawn-out breath sounded over the phone. “Rosie, I am going to cancel my bachelorette party tomorrow and blame everything on you if you do not put those balls in your vagina. I’m telling you, the minute you whisper into Henry’s ear about clenching his cock, he’ll take you home immediately. It will be Boner City and his dick will name you mayor.”

  “Men really like that?”

  “You tell me? What do your books say?”

  “You always say they’re fiction and don’t count as real life,” I countered.

  “They are fiction, but men’s responses in those books are mostly spot on. Are you going to be adventurous and turn up the heat in your relationship or just sit back and watch Tasha talk to your man?”

  I pulled out the Ben Wa balls and stared at them. I could do this. “I’m going to be adventurous.”

  “That’s my girl,” Delaney cheered. “Call me later. Love you.”

  She hung up before I could ask her any questions, most likely because she was in the middle of her own sexual adventures.

  Mustering courage, I grabbed the lube, pulled down my underpants and lifted my dress up around my waist.

  Being a lube virgin, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the thin liquid, so, I popped the top open, squatted ever so slightly with my legs spread as much as they could go, thanks to my underwear, and I pressed the lube up near my vagina. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed hard and shot the lube straight up into Virginia.

  A cold wave of thin liquid coated my inner walls right before gravity took hold of it and brought it back down, straight into my underwear, my now appointed lube net.

  “Crap,” I muttered, looking at the pile of liquid in the crotch of my panties.

  Bottle and balls in my hands, I stared at the mess and tried to decide what to do. The heaviness of the lube weighed down my underwear, so I shimmied them down my legs and toed them to the side to pick up after. Commando was sexy, I told myself.

  Still eyeing the balls, I convinced myself I could do this. How hard could it really be? Taking a deep breath, I prayed there was enough lube still coating Virginia and slipped the first ball in. Easily I pushed it up and was pleased with the way it fit. With a little more confidence, I thumbed the second one inside and clenched. A small vibration rang through me . . . Well, wasn’t expecting that.

  “Isn’t that delightful?” I said to myself.

  Standing there, I felt comfortable; I could totally do this. More confident, I deposited my underwear and the empty lube bottle in the sanitary napkins trash can—sorry, cleaning service—and wiped my hands with some toilet paper so I didn’t slick down the door handle.

  Flushing the toilet, I exited, walking very slowly to the sink. With every step, my confidence wavered. I had to really think about each push forward, clenching as tight as I could, praying I didn’t strain my damn cervix.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  While I washed my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. My brown locks fell over my shoulders in voluptuous waves, and the cat-eye makeup I’d applied to my eyes accentuated my blue irises. My lips were plump and red, and my boobs were inches away from popping out of my dress. I really did look sexy, maybe a little over the top, not really like me at all, but maybe that’s what I needed. I was going to be a mom.

  I didn’t want to be a single mom.

  Henry was hit and miss these days. I didn’t want him to leave me because I was losing myself. I wanted to show him I could still be frisky; I wanted nothing more than to be with him.

  Believing I could do this, I took a deep breath, blew a kiss to myself in the mirror, and moved toward the door.


  I took small steps, keeping my legs closed together as much as possible. I could tell I was walking weird, I knew my tongue was sticking out of my mouth as I concentrated on each step, and I knew if I spread my legs one millimeter apart, my balls were going to drop.

  This was probably the worst decision I’d ever made.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Triceratops Tits

  HENRY

  If she touched me one more time, I was going to rip the extensions right out of her hair and shove them down her throat.

  My irritation level was at an all-time high. Rosie was late. Tasha was either touching me or touching the board members, and the campaign she unveiled today was actually good, better than I’d expected it to be. It made me wonder how much of it she actually did.

  I spent all day running over designs, making sure everything was the way I wanted it, and spent countless hours with a knot in my stomach. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Rosie was pregnant, and I needed to be able to provide for the both of us—for the three of us. I’d never felt so much pressure in my life, and to top it off, I had to deal with the plastic-altered leech who’d refused to leave me alone all night.

  “Oh, Eric, you’re hilarious,” she cooed, taking a sip of her champagne.

  Literally everything she said, every little chuckle that came out of her mouth, was like a drunk Sofia Vergara trying to sing the National Anthem. It wasn’t pretty . . . at all.

  I ground my teeth, trying to keep the tongue-lashing I wanted to give her to myself. Gripping my drink tightly, I scanned the room, looking for the one girl I wanted to drape my arm across.

  There were a lot more people at the party than I expected and all people I really had no interest in talking to. Normally, I was spot on when it came to networking, and I could charm the socks off any executive, but my mind was elsewhere tonight. I wanted this campaign to be over, this competition to be finished with. I wanted to be with Rosie, snuggled up by her side, maybe deep inside her.

  It had been way too long since I’d been able to intimately connect with her. That was going to change soon. We were going to see a doctor and get everything straightened out.

  From the corner of the room where the bathrooms were located, I saw groups of people part as a beautiful brunette made her way straight toward me. She was taking tiny steps forward, as if she was a stick figure Barbie and didn’t have bendable knees. Robot-like gestures flowed through her, tiny step after tiny step, and I wondered what the hell she was doing.

  I tried to ignore the awkward walk and took in her appearance. She was wearing an extremely tight black dress that was entirely too low-cut around her breasts—which were on display for the entire room. Fucking hot. I felt uncomfortable from the press of my crotch against my zipper.

  It had been way too fucking long.

  Her hair was gorgeously floating around her shoulders, and her lips looked so fucking kissable that all I wanted to do was take her home right now.

  Her beautifully highlighted eyes made contact with mine and a sheepish smile crossed her face. My heart beat faster from her once-over. Pride. That’s what I felt that this fantastically beautiful woman was mine. God, how I loved her.

  Ignoring Tasha’s relentless story, I made my way toward my girl, meeting her—well, not halfway, since she took steps Papa Smurf could match.

  “Love, you look stunning.” I pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first, but then melted into me. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered into her ear.

  “Have you really?” Fuck. How could she feel insecure about me missing her? You put that there, you idiot. Needed to fix that.

  “Of course I have.” I placed a kiss on her temple. I pulled away and gave her one more once-over and shook my head. “I can’t believe I can call you mine. You’re so beautiful, Rosie.”

  “Thank you. It’s all for you,” she said in a weirdly sexual way and then licked her teeth.

  That was odd. I shook it off and said, “Would you like to say hi to Eric? You will have to say hi to Tasha, but I promise we won’t talk to her long.”

  “Anything you want, big guy.” She leaned into my ear and yipped . . . like a Chihuahua.

  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, and she said, “You heard me, mega penis man.”

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

  “Drunk in love.” 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 us old men talk to her?” Eric asked, 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 would 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’d superglued 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 that you know you have something good with Rosie. She’s way out of your league, you know that, right?”

  I smiled 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’ll let me.”

  “Well, if that’s the case . . .” Eric grabbed Rosie’s arm and pulled her into his side. She winced and sidestepped 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. She was so unpredictable at the moment, and I was terrified that she might blow up.

  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.

  Rosie was breathing down Eric’s neck, looking for answers. By his expression, he regretted his comment. 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, han
d 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 Tasha and me, 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 a 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 walked her around the room, and when I said walk, I meant 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.