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“You have no way of knowing that.” Unless Cocksucker told her so, in which case I was going to personally make my way to Nepal and shove him off Everest myself.
“No, truly, I’m quite awful.”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
“You are? All right.” I sighed. “The wedding’s off, then.”
“Really?” She winced, vulnerable all of a sudden.
“No.”
“I can’t—”
She really couldn’t. I’d seen Aunt Bessie’s meals less frozen than this woman. Which was why I took charge, dunked my head down, and kissed the living crap out of her without further ado.
... Fine, I did no such thing.
But I did lean down to give her a dry, respectable peck. It was brief. No more than a brush. I’d had more action from TSA officers giving me a pat-down at the airport, and still, somehow, my cock saw fit to nod appreciatively.
The car exploded with whistles and cheers. Camera flashes blinded us. People were obviously satisfied with our lackluster display of affection.
Duffy fell back to her seat. Her hand shook as she wiped her lips clean. “I can’t believe I told you about my school years. How mortifyi ...” She trailed off when she realized her future husband’s penis was semihard and staring right back at her. Eye level.
Her eyes dragged up to my face. Shock gave way to anger.
“You have some nerve, sir,” she whisper-shouted.
“You have some lips,” I said by way of explanation. If God did exist, I was going to meet the second pair in her body too.
“Put that thing away. It looks like it’s about to stab me in the eye,” she complained, and I managed not to laugh. Just barely.
“No one told you to sit down.”
“No one told you to sexuallyharassme.”
“Excuse me? If anyone should be crying under the showerhead while hugging their knees, it should be me. You mentally licked my chest just a few hours ago,” I reminded her. “When we were in your apartment.”
“I didnot,” she hissed, her cheeks enflamed.
“Didtoo.”
“Again, I can’t believe you’re pushing forty.”
“You think once you hit a certain age you start talking like Morgan Freeman?” I frowned, fed up with this line. “Thirty-seven-year-olds still say ‘fuck’ and make dick jokes and play Xbox and prefer Cheetos and soda over broccoli and chicken andstillthinkStranger Thingsis better than documentaries about migrating ants.”
“But they don’t say ‘doodie calls.’”
“Yes, they do. And what’s more—you’re about to legally bind yourself to someone who just might tattoo the phrase on his ass.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her jaw ticked, and I knew she actually thought I was capable of it.
I smiled winningly. “Wouldn’t I, now? May I remind you, I am marrying a complete stranger because of a pissing contest with my boss.”
“Are you guys okay?” Ready to Kiss Me if My Fiancée Wouldn’t Lady cut into our argument. “You seem ...tense.”
“Brilliant.” Duffy offered a fake, icy smile.
Brilliant, my ass.
