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His awful ring tone echoes throughout the otherwise silent room.
It stops momentarily before starting up again. “What is that obnoxious song?”
He pulls the phone out of his pocket and silences it. “Hey, it’s not obnoxious. That’s Hulk Hogan’s theme song. It’s a classic.” He’s entirely serious right now.
“Hulk who? Is he an Avenger?”
“You’re killing me. I don’t know if we can be together if you don’t know who Hulk Hogan is. Come on. WWF? The precursor to the WWE? There would be no Dwayne Johnson if there was never a Hulk Hogan.”
“Well, the world would not be complete without Dwayne Johnson.”
In one swift move, he bends, throws me over his shoulder, and smacks my ass.
Pretty sure I’m supposed to hate being thrown around. But anyone who says that has never had their man toss them around lovingly with the promise of more orgasms to come.
He doesn’t take two more steps before his phone rings again. This time, I’m carefully placed on my feet when he moves to grab the phone that was just thrown on the table. “It’s Brady. This is the third time he’s called.”
I turn and pick my phone up off the nightstand. It’s been turned off since last night, so I power it back on. “Shit, I’ve missed two calls from Nattie.”
We both call our friends, and a knot forms in my gut.
This can’t be good.
