“Romance novel?” asks Leslie, sitting up a little straighter. Damn if that isn’t a sign the girl needs to get laid. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you.” She gets up, ignoring the puzzled stares as she heads out to her desk. It’s not like she planned on keeping the book here for just such an occasion-there are other, better reasons to keep romance novels hidden in her desk-but it sure is going to come in handy now. “Here,” she says, returning to the conference room and tossing the well-worn book down on the table. Everyone stares for a moment as Donna takes her seat, until Ann tentatively picks it up.
“Dionne and the Perilous Pirate? Donna, what is this?”
Donna holds out her hand and Ann passes the book back across the table. The cover art leaves a lot to be desired-the man isn’t even shirtless-but Donna knows the contents of the book well enough not to judge. Hell, she lived the contents. At least some of them.
“This,” she says, tapping her fingernail against the spine of the book, “is a testament to my skills in the bedroom.”
“What? You were reading this or something?” asks Leslie. “I’ll admit-“
“No. I am Dionne in this book. The man who wrote this is the first man I ever slept with, and let’s just say he borrowed extensively from our experiences together.”
She sets the book down and leans back in her chair, delighting in the flabbergasted looks on her coworkers’ faces, ranging from Ben’s skeptical belief to Tommy’s outright awe. Well-deserved awe, if she does say so herself.
“So you’re telling me that you lost your virginity to…” Tom snatches up the book. “…Luca de Salvatore?”
“Lucas Salvo, actually. Luca de Salvatore is just a pen name. And he wasn’t really a pirate. Or all that perilous, considering he cried when I left him.”
“And he went on to write the story of your time together?” asks Leslie, way too eager and starry-eyed. “That’s actually kind of romantic.”
“It might have been. If he hadn’t shown up to give me a copy of the book, sobbing and asking me to take him back. As if I’d want to rekindle one summer fling I had when I was seventeen. Please.”
“Whoa!” says Tom. He’s opened the book, staring at a page all bug-eyed and shocked. “Listen to this: ‘Paolo pulled Dionne into his arms, relishing the weight of her bosom pressed against the rippling muscles of his chest. He may have taken Dionne’s maidenhood, but she had captured his heart. Dionne was more dangerous than the roughest seas, the deadliest hurricanes, and even him, the dreaded Perilous Pirate.’” Tom stares at her, unblinking. “Was he really a pirate?”
“Hell no. He’s just some writer. He was doing a book signing at some teeny little shop in his hometown. Same place my family vacationed every summer. I went down to get him to sign my copy of Victoria and the Vicious Viper, and damn if the man wasn’t fine.”
“So the pirate thing…”
“We did it on his boat a few times.” Donna shrugs. “There might have been some role play. But trust me, he was not the pirate in that scenario either.” She nods to Tom, who still has the book open, and adds, “Page twenty-two. That’s the first time.”
Tom flips back to the beginning of the book, eyes skimming a few paragraphs, and then his mouth drops open. “Jeeeez.”
“What? What does it say?”
“‘Paolo felt a stirring, a hardness, of his manhood at the sight of Dionne standing on the deck of his ship, breasts heaving as the sunset painted the sky in front of them. He moved to stand behind her, roughly pulling her back against his chest. Dionne gasped as he moved his hands to her perfect bosom, tearing her dress open to touch her silky skin. He caressed her, calloused thumbs brushing against her sensitive flesh, and he couldn’t stop from pressing his hardness against her bottom. “You want me, Dionne,” he said, lust dripping from his every word.
“No,” commanded Dionne, turning in his arms. “It’s you who wants me.”’ Damn, Donna. Is this for real?”
“I told you. Worthy of being immortalized in print.”
“Apparently,” agrees Ann. She’s leaned over Tom’s shoulder to read the rest of the passage, flushing slightly at the words. Donna can only imagine she’s gotten to Lucas’ description of his own cock, an ode that is only surpassed by his description of being inside of her for the first time. She glances down at her own nails, playing it cool. “Was he really that…well endowed?”
“Let’s just say the man has earned his bragging rights.” Really, she thinks, it’s too bad Lucas had to ruin it with all his crying at the end. Reliving the more passionate moments of their affair in writing would be so much sweeter without the memory of him begging her to take him back.
The book is making rounds around the table now, Ann taking it from Tom and then Leslie tentatively picking it up when Ann drops it and begins to fan herself. She’s reading quickly, eyes darting from left to right, and as her mouth drops open in surprise, Ben leans in over her shoulder to read along. Slowly, a deep pink flush enters her cheeks, and when Ben lets out a low-toned, “Good lord,” she practically throws the book across the table to April.
“Should we even bother to hear the rest of your stories?” asks Donna. That money is as good as hers.
“No way!” whines Tom. “You don’t get to win just because you had a professional tell your story!”
Donna thinks that’s exactly why she’s going to win, but she shrugs. Let Tommy try to top her.
“I’ll go!” volunteers Andy, oblivious to the fact that his wife is pocketing Donna’s personal property. She catches Donna’s eye just as she slips the book into her purse, and Donna grins at the young girl’s slightly embarrassed look.
“Yeah,” agrees April, turning away from Donna. “Andy’ll go next.”
This whole premise is ridiculous in the best possible way. I fricking LOVE THIS! And you are nailing (tee hee) everyone's voices so well. This is fantastic.
“Romance novel?” asks Leslie, sitting up a little straighter. Damn if that isn’t a sign the girl needs to get laid. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you.” She gets up, ignoring the puzzled stares as she heads out to her desk. It’s not like she planned on keeping the book here for just such an occasion-there are other, better reasons to keep romance novels hidden in her desk-but it sure is going to come in handy now. “Here,” she says, returning to the conference room and tossing the well-worn book down on the table. Everyone stares for a moment as Donna takes her seat, until Ann tentatively picks it up.
“Dionne and the Perilous Pirate? Donna, what is this?”
Donna holds out her hand and Ann passes the book back across the table. The cover art leaves a lot to be desired-the man isn’t even shirtless-but Donna knows the contents of the book well enough not to judge. Hell, she lived the contents. At least some of them.
“This,” she says, tapping her fingernail against the spine of the book, “is a testament to my skills in the bedroom.”
“What? You were reading this or something?” asks Leslie. “I’ll admit-“
“No. I am Dionne in this book. The man who wrote this is the first man I ever slept with, and let’s just say he borrowed extensively from our experiences together.”
She sets the book down and leans back in her chair, delighting in the flabbergasted looks on her coworkers’ faces, ranging from Ben’s skeptical belief to Tommy’s outright awe. Well-deserved awe, if she does say so herself.
“So you’re telling me that you lost your virginity to…” Tom snatches up the book. “…Luca de Salvatore?”
“Lucas Salvo, actually. Luca de Salvatore is just a pen name. And he wasn’t really a pirate. Or all that perilous, considering he cried when I left him.”
“And he went on to write the story of your time together?” asks Leslie, way too eager and starry-eyed. “That’s actually kind of romantic.”
“It might have been. If he hadn’t shown up to give me a copy of the book, sobbing and asking me to take him back. As if I’d want to rekindle one summer fling I had when I was seventeen. Please.”
“Whoa!” says Tom. He’s opened the book, staring at a page all bug-eyed and shocked. “Listen to this: ‘Paolo pulled Dionne into his arms, relishing the weight of her bosom pressed against the rippling muscles of his chest. He may have taken Dionne’s maidenhood, but she had captured his heart. Dionne was more dangerous than the roughest seas, the deadliest hurricanes, and even him, the dreaded Perilous Pirate.’” Tom stares at her, unblinking. “Was he really a pirate?”
“Hell no. He’s just some writer. He was doing a book signing at some teeny little shop in his hometown. Same place my family vacationed every summer. I went down to get him to sign my copy of Victoria and the Vicious Viper, and damn if the man wasn’t fine.”
“So the pirate thing…”
“We did it on his boat a few times.” Donna shrugs. “There might have been some role play. But trust me, he was not the pirate in that scenario either.” She nods to Tom, who still has the book open, and adds, “Page twenty-two. That’s the first time.”
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Tom flips back to the beginning of the book, eyes skimming a few paragraphs, and then his mouth drops open. “Jeeeez.”
“What? What does it say?”
“‘Paolo felt a stirring, a hardness, of his manhood at the sight of Dionne standing on the deck of his ship, breasts heaving as the sunset painted the sky in front of them. He moved to stand behind her, roughly pulling her back against his chest. Dionne gasped as he moved his hands to her perfect bosom, tearing her dress open to touch her silky skin. He caressed her, calloused thumbs brushing against her sensitive flesh, and he couldn’t stop from pressing his hardness against her bottom. “You want me, Dionne,” he said, lust dripping from his every word.
“No,” commanded Dionne, turning in his arms. “It’s you who wants me.”’ Damn, Donna. Is this for real?”
“I told you. Worthy of being immortalized in print.”
“Apparently,” agrees Ann. She’s leaned over Tom’s shoulder to read the rest of the passage, flushing slightly at the words. Donna can only imagine she’s gotten to Lucas’ description of his own cock, an ode that is only surpassed by his description of being inside of her for the first time. She glances down at her own nails, playing it cool. “Was he really that…well endowed?”
“Let’s just say the man has earned his bragging rights.” Really, she thinks, it’s too bad Lucas had to ruin it with all his crying at the end. Reliving the more passionate moments of their affair in writing would be so much sweeter without the memory of him begging her to take him back.
The book is making rounds around the table now, Ann taking it from Tom and then Leslie tentatively picking it up when Ann drops it and begins to fan herself. She’s reading quickly, eyes darting from left to right, and as her mouth drops open in surprise, Ben leans in over her shoulder to read along. Slowly, a deep pink flush enters her cheeks, and when Ben lets out a low-toned, “Good lord,” she practically throws the book across the table to April.
“Should we even bother to hear the rest of your stories?” asks Donna. That money is as good as hers.
“No way!” whines Tom. “You don’t get to win just because you had a professional tell your story!”
Donna thinks that’s exactly why she’s going to win, but she shrugs. Let Tommy try to top her.
“I’ll go!” volunteers Andy, oblivious to the fact that his wife is pocketing Donna’s personal property. She catches Donna’s eye just as she slips the book into her purse, and Donna grins at the young girl’s slightly embarrassed look.
“Yeah,” agrees April, turning away from Donna. “Andy’ll go next.”
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