(“It did not!”)
His lip quivered and he said, “I’ve always wanted to touch you like this.”
The Queen cocked an eyebrow because she was totally in control of the situation and was slightly taken aback that the Homo Jock King was already sort of crying. “Is that right?”
“Yes. You see, I’ve never seen true beauty until I looked upon your face.”
The Queen, used to such compliments, said, “Tone it down, Darren. You’re coming off as a little desperate. I’m not dropping my panties for you right now, no matter how hard you try.”
“I’m so sorry,” Darren said. “Sometimes, with all my muscles that I have because I work out fifteen times a day as I’m overcompensating for things I’d rather not talk about, I forget what it means to not be desperate. In fact, I’m pretty much desperate all the time. Desperate for you.”
(“What?” Darren barked. “That doesn’t even sound like me!”
“It doesn’t?” I asked. “Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember it happening exactly that way.”
“I don’t work out fifteen times a day!”
“Once, fifteen, same difference. Do you really need to do squats?”
“You weren’t complaining when I was squatting on your dick,” he said.
“Cannot be unheard,” Corey breathed.
And for some reason, I couldn’t get that image out of my head. Because Darren had tree-trunk thighs and… just. How would they look if he was doing something like that? I mean, inquiring minds wanted to know. Not me specifically, but. You know. Just general knowledge. That I wouldn’t mind having. About his thighs.
Shut up.
“Since Sandy’s brain seems to be fried,” Darren said, “I’ll take back over.”
Thiiiighs.)
Darren worked out only once a day. Maybe twice, if he needed to feel vascular. Nothing more. And his lips never quivered, nor did his eyes glisten. And he definitely didn’t need to compensate for anything because he was all good there. More than good. He most definitely had his fair share. Everyone said so. And he wasn’t desperate for the Queen. Not at all. He was cool, calm, and completely in control of the situation.
The Queen, however, was shaking in his arms like a leaf in the wind.
“What’s wrong?” Darren growled, his voice deep and masculine and perfect.
“Oh, Darren,” the Queen said, breath hitching in her chest. “I just… I just realized that I’m overwhelmed by all of these… these feelings I have for you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before about anyone.”
“Feelings?” Darren asked. Because sure, if he was pressed, he would admit that he’d thought about the Queen that way. But he most certainly didn’t know feelings were involved. Darren wasn’t about feelings. He was a man of action and reaction. He didn’t have time for feelings, but damn if this queen didn’t make him want to. He’d been hurt in the past, and buried these so-called feelings deep under his rough exterior.
“It’s like I’m burning from the inside out,” the Queen said, her pretty eyes filling with tears as she whimpered. “I ache for you. Sometimes when I’m by myself, I think things about you.” The Queen leaned forward, bosom rising up and falling back. “Sexual things.”
(“I didn’t say that!” I snapped at him. “Why aren’t you telling them what really happened? My bosom wasn’t rising.”
“This is what really happened,” he said. “You told me you burned for me. You were burning.”
“Paul,” I said. “Does that really sound like something I would say?” If anyone knew, it’d be him. He knew me best. He’d know the truth. He was my best friend and I loved him dearly.
“Well,” Paul said, hedging.
That bitch.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean well?”
He shrugged. “It’s not really outside the realm of possibility. I mean, remember all those bodice rippers you used to read when we were teenagers? You went around for months claiming to be a fiery duchess who was going to meet her surly prince one day and get into, and I quote, ‘shenanigans of an adult variety.’ End quote.”
“Yes, well,” I said with a sniff. “I obviously had good taste, so.”