Chapter 17 #2
“God, I hope not,” Rayna says as she pats the creature’s head. “If he’s still bleeding after all these years, your whack-a-doo scientists might confiscate him for testing. Can’t wait to try their new fixative, by the way. Samuel says it’s stellar shit.”
A muscle below my eye twitches as that damn plastic bag keeps crinkling through everyone’s fingers. The sound will drive me insane. But that isn’t all that’s driving me insane.
I glare at Jim. He’s getting a bit too comfortable going behind my back. That fixative isn’t yet ready for the public.
“You said we needed to run more tests.” Jim rolls his hand through the air. “Taxidermists seemed the logical next step.”
“But more strangers, Jim?” I cock my head and glare harder, not caring if I’m making our guests uncomfortable.
“Well, when Samuel explained what he had in his bag, I explained about the little fixative project we’ve been working on. He suggested I let them test it. You didn’t expect me to test embalming agents on living beasts, did you?” Jim’s hand goes to his chest, and his eyes widen. “Did you?”
“Uncomfy,” Rayna squeaks.
Josie looks ready to kick me in the shin, and gentle gasps ripple through the lot of them. Now I’m forced to swim up the Thames with no arms. Blast and bother. Everyone thinks I’m a psychotic animal-hater.
“That wasn’t at all what I suggested,” I bark. “In fact, the words animal testing never left my mouth! I said to test on the animals down at the underground facility. The Cattle, Jim. The bleeding Cattle!”
The gasps turn to groans, and everyone relaxes.
Josie leans closer. “I didn’t really think you’d—”
“Save it,” I grumble.
She zips her lips and sits back.
I’m really not in the mood for any of this. After seeing those pictures, I should have just washed my face and turned in for the night. I’m on edge, and not even a kiss from Josie could—
My back straightens. “That’s it,” I whisper.
“What’s it?” Josie asks. She takes the bag from Eve, and not even the horrific crinkling can drag down my rising spirits. Not after an epiphany such as this.
“Nothing, my beauty.” I shake my head and smile, then clamp my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze.
She giggles and bites her bottom lip. It’s almost seductive enough to get my dick hard again. Not quite, though. Not until I’ve had the opportunity to really consider this possibility.
That bet may be mine yet.
A smile breaks across Josie’s face as she digs in the bag and pulls something from inside. “Rayna, have I got a fun game for you!”
She raises two penis skins into the air. They appear fresh, which is concerning. Where in the hell did they acquire this many ghost cocks in the last twenty-four hours?
“No need to panic or call the cleaning crew,” Jim says with a laugh. “Don’t have a coronary, either, King. Rayna asked if she could take them from the corpses after the last event, and I felt that would be just fine.”
I relax. Until Josie shoves one of the floppy skins into my hand. Now I just want to vomit.
Rayna takes the empty bag, balls it up, and hands it to Dalton, who disposes of it in the trash bin several feet away. I close my eyes and count to ten. It’s a good thing we already have a cleaning crew on standby.
“Okay, just slide the cock skins over the wieners, and bam!” Rayna says. “You have what Dalton and I like to call the Frankenpeen.”
Dalton scoffs as he returns to the group. “Oh, now you tell me that hot dogs were an acceptable substitute.”
Eve’s eyebrow rises. “Where’d she make you put the cock skin, honey?”
They look at each other, and Rayna opens her mouth, ready to tell the world their dirty secrets. Dalton’s palm slams over her lips.
“Hey, you shouldn’t do that to a woman,” Ice Pick says. His eyebrows furrow. “Not unless they ask you to.”
“Trust me,” Dalton says through gritted teeth. “She gets off on this. She’s biting the shit out of me as we speak."
He finally releases her, and he’s right. She’s wearing a big smile on her face, and he bears a crescent welt on the meat of his palm. Poor lad. He’s landed a wild one there.
“Hassafa fa fa shuffa. Blech!”
Speaking of wild ones . . .
I turn to see who’s broken into tongues, and I realize it’s Josie. She spits a steaming pile of meat from her mouth and looks around for something to drink. I pass her a bottle of water, and she uses it to cool her tongue.
“When the hell did you have time to make one of their Frankendogs?” I ask.
“Frankenpeen,” Rayna and Dalton say.
Ignoring them, I press Josie further. “Why’d you bite into it?”
When she looks up at me, tears brim in her eyes. She’s embarrassed, but I’m irritated. She could have put her mouth out of commission before I’ve had a chance to fully enjoy her oral skills.
“I bit into it because I’m hungry,” she says with a pout.
“Children in war-torn countries are hungry, Josie. Monks seeking enlightenment on the furthest reaches of the Tibetan mountains are hungry. You? You’re just impatient.”
“Well if you already knew the answer, why’d you even ask, Captain Cocksure?”
As I look at her lips now, swollen from the heat of that blazing wiener, I’m more certain than ever.
Perhaps I’ve confused what I’m feeling. I’ve called it love, but there is every chance it’s merely misplaced dopamine from finding a woman who knows how to keep up the intrigue. After all, Marcia wouldn’t marry me, turning her heart into a conquest. That kept me holding on for all that time.
Meanwhile, Josie would marry me in a heartbeat, but kissing me is forever off the table.
Is that all there is to it? Is Josie’s kiss the only challenge I’ve yet to conquer?
As I watch her blow on that Frankenpeen, a sort of calm washes over me.
I just have to do the impossible. I’ll find out why Josie refuses to kiss, and then I’ll use that to my advantage. Then it’s only a matter of time before I press my lips to hers and rid her from my system. This time, one way or another, it will be forever.