Glancing down, I wonder what he’s looking at specifically. I’m not delusional. I know I’m thicker than I was in high school and college, but that’s what happens when you run on caffeine during the day and alcohol at night while dancing your ass off in high heels at a club. Now, I eat real food and make sure I’m hydrated.
Like a normal, healthy adult.
“Um—”
“Your tits are great, though.”
At least there’ssomethinghe likes about me. “I don’t really have a response for that.”
“In a few years, they’ll droop down to your feet. You should probably get into topless modeling while you still can to have proof you used to have a decent rack.”
And now it’s turned into a creepy backhanded compliment. Insult? Yeah, it feels more like an insult. “Again, I’m not even sure what to say to that.”
“Take your top off, and I’ll take pictures for you. That way, there’s record for both of us to have that they were oncefantastic. It’ll be an honor to show off the tits I rubbed my cock between.”
Woah, that took a drastic turn. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You’re good when I say you’re good,” Thomas says and gives me a smile. Or what I think is a smile. It looks more like a snarl, but that might just be his face.
“Thomas—”
“Your mouth is only useful when I’m shoving my dick in it and fucking it. Gagging you on my large cock.”
Eyes wide, I stare at him, making sure not to open my mouth in a gape like I normally would. The last thing this man needs is a better visual.
Is this what is typically in bully romance books? Have I never paid much attention to them before?
“Okay, then.”
“Did you get your outfit inspiration from a drag show? Who dresses like that other than hookers?”
Now, I’m just offended. I’m about to tell him what I think when my phone chimes.
DECKER: How’s the date going? Is he your Prince Charming?
ME: Not even close. Any chance you can pick me up?
DECKER: Send me your location.
“Those heels will only look good when they’re on either side of my head. Are you planning to go work the pole after riding mine?” Thomas asks.
Okay, that one is kind of a good insult line.
He begins stripping down, and before I realize what he’s doing, he’s in his boxers. I almost miss the small tent of his fly from his arousal.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Doesn’t insulting you turn you on? That’s why you chose the Bully category. Now, it’s time to get naked. Let me see those tits, bitch.”
“Yeah, no,” I say and turn around. “I’m going to take my hooker outfit and stripper heels home. Bye.”
“But—”
The door shuts behind me, and I hurry to stand out by the street to wait for Decker. I just pray he shows up before Thomas gets dressed and comes out trying to insult me back inside.
What the hell did I really expect? Not this, but I think I maybe should have. I’m not certain some of these men have even read a romance book to understand the tropes they’re signing up under.
Decker’s green Mustang pulls up to the curb. Rolling down the window, he looks concerned. “You okay?”
