The Queen & the Homo Jock King (At First Sight 2)

“That would have been better than this!”

I grinned. “Subjective.”

He scowled at me. “These fucking stockings are cutting off the circulation in my legs.”

“If it makes you feel better,” I said, “flex your thighs and see if they tear. I’m sure we’ll get even more money because of it. Britney Hulk Smash!”

He pulled back slightly until our faces were only inches away, eyes searching mine. “You’re enjoying this too fucking much.”

“You have no idea,” I said. “Now, attempt to look like you just got out of class and for no reason that makes any sense, you have to dance in the school hallway while you sing about how you’re sad that you’re alone because you want to be with him.”

“With who?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It was never defined. It didn’t need to be because it’s fucking Britney Spears and just her mere existence is enough for you to shut the fuck up and just be Britney.”

“Nothing you just said makes any sense. And it never does.”

“And yet, you’re the one in a skirt and pigtails.”

If his glare could have been harnessed, it could have been used as a weapon of mass mortification.

It was literally one of the greatest moments of my life.

I stepped away from him, making sure he was center stage and in the spotlight. I didn’t want to humiliate him (well, not too much) but I still had a job to do. He looked slightly panicked as I took that step back, but relaxed when he saw I wasn’t going far.

“As you can see,” I said into the microphone, “Darren’s loneliness is killing him.”

> “No it’s not!” he said, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.

“And he must confess that he still believes.”

“Believe that I’m going to smack your ass for this later,” he growled.

I choked on my tongue, but recovered gracefully. And by gracefully, I meant that I wiped the drool off my chin before it could drip onto the floor. Because he had really big hands that probably would make the most awesome of sounds as they struck my ass and—

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

There were catcalls pouring in from around us, which, really. That’s what did it for them? Hearing a large man in a skirt wanting to spank the statuesque drag queen known for her poise and grace? I wasn’t one to judge. Okay. That was a lie. Because I was totally judging them. Sure, it sounded fucking hot, but my fans seemed to be a bunch of kinky weirdos.

“If he’s not with you,” Kori said from the balcony, having stolen the microphone from Charlie, “he loses his mind. Helena, all he wants is a sign.”

I flipped Kori off.

“Not that sign,” she said before Charlie yanked the microphone from her.

“Helena,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Question.”

“Of course.”

“Is it wrong that I want to hit him, baby, one more time? Like a smack on that ass? The skirt might do things for me. I mean, I knew it was a nice ass, but this. Good job on that.”

“Wow,” I said. “That is not something I ever needed to know.”

“Thank you, Charlie!” Darren yelled.