Free The Romance Novel Book Club by Desconhecido(a) Page B

threw my on again, off again diet out the window and chowed down on just bacon for breakfast as I tried again to start Winter’s Kiss . I had gotten twenty-five pages in and not one sexually charged word had been written. The author spent pages upon pages explaining how tough as nails her chick was. No wonder the character never had a man in her life. He’d go to stick it in, and then she’d clench her well-formed muscles and pop! His dick would fall off. She’d finish it off with a scissor kick to the head.
    With nothing planned for the day, I would plant my buttocks on the couch until the bacon ran out.
    Matt had called twice already, and both times I let him talk to the voicemail. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend. I didn’t owe him anything, and I certainly wasn’t calling him back. In fact, I think I’d really love to punch him right in that fat piece of man meatsicle—Again. Him leading me on that Beverly was a bitch, and experiencing her refined social skills, were worlds apart. She and Ted couldn’t be from the same womb. Obviously Ted’s mom had an illicit affair with Satan to conceive Beverly .
    Stop it, Patricia. You’re not helping yourself.
    My hormones were going ape shit, and I wanted to get laid beyond what Tall One offered at Black Room. Not coddled or felt up, just thrown on the bed and jack-hammered. Very lady-like, right? I figured I could get the pink gopher to pop out of the hole myself for gratification but something about human interaction when doing the deed made sex more complete. My solo act never made up for the warm feel of skin on skin.
    God, how pitiful am I?
    I paced my apartment, trying to pick out something I didn’t care if it got ruined or not for an evening of drunken, sweaty dancing. I couldn’t go back to Black Room so soon. It screamed of desperation. The more I looked through my clothes, the more my thoughts of Matt kept creeping up.
    Oh, I bet I’d knock him dead in this dress! He could just slide his hand up my thigh with this one or see my big ta-tas.
    What was I doing to myself? A slow dick tease minus the schlong slapping me upside the head?
    I collapsed on my bed. I couldn’t go out. No way could I stop my ‘hooked on Matt’s cock meat’ line of thinking, and if my guy didn’t measure up, I’d be more miserable. I realized what a selfish social retard I was being. I didn’t even give Matt a chance to explain Beverly ’s antics and I blew him off like some stuck-up sorority girl. So not me.
    I picked my cell phone and dialed him up. He didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. His phone went straight to voicemail.
    Okay, I deserved that. Touché.
    “Hey, Matt, it’s Patricia. Look. I’ve been real jerk and if you get this, how about I make us dinner at my place tonight. I have a couple of Ben & Jerry pints too, if you’re interested.” A weak laugh came out, and I hung up. I headed for the shower for another fiesta with my hooha before a trip to the grocery store. I didn’t think he’d be into a bacon sandwich with bacon bit dressing over cheesy bacon soup.
    Stupid before-period cravings.
     
     

Chapter Fourteen
     
    I put on a little number consisting of a spaghetti strap red top, form-fitting capris and red slip-on leather sandals: an outfit that would make my mom cringe. She loathed the color red for shoes. The reason? She claimed women strutting around with them never wore underwear. I think she used colorful words such as ‘whore’ and ‘tramp’ in that statement too. In homage to her, I ‘accidentally’ forgot to put on underwear every time I wore red.
    I liked to play the disappointment she thought I was.
    My fingers tapped on the counter near my cell phone. The nervous tension of wanting Matt to call me back consumed my thoughts. Hopeful, I’d made a spread of my favorite Thai dish; peanuts being stage two of the before-period process. The steam rising from the sauce-laden rice noodles lessened, and I sighed. My pussy clock on the wall