Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)

In my case though, and I suppose, in my defense, sex is part of my job.

And so is schmoozing and signing autographs. Ergo, here I am, at an Open Book, a cool bookstore on the Upper West Side. When this signing shindig started a few hours ago, a long line of fans snaked out the door. The event my network set up is almost over, so the line is winding down. The crowd has been 55-45 in favor of the fairer sex, which is absolutely not something I’m going to complain about especially since my fans were nearly all dudes several years ago.

Some still are. Like this guy.

“My favorite episode is based on that one,” a squeaky-voiced, messy-haired, awkward teenager says as he points to a panel that features Mister Orgasm rescuing a dozen busty beauties from a remote island where they’d been deprived of sex for far too long. The upshot? Only a cartoonish caped crusader could replenish their depleted stores of pleasure, which had dwindled to terrifyingly low levels.

I shudder at the thought of what those women must have gone through.

“Yeah. That one does rock,” I say, flashing the kid a quick grin, then nodding seriously. “Mister Orgasm did a great service for the ladies, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” the kid says, with wide, earnest eyes. “He helped them so much.”

It’s weird, because he’s probably sixteen and there’s a part of me that thinks why the fuck are you watching my raunchy TV show? But, on the other hand, I get it. When I was his age, I didn’t have a clue about girls either. Which probably explains why I started drawing The Adventures of Mister Orgasm, the online cartoon that includes the storyline about the aforementioned good samaritan act the titular hero performed.

Titular.

I said titular.

In my head.

Anyway, that was definitely a popular episode, and one of the reasons my network packaged up some of my old strips into this graphic novel. Special edition and all, like the gold raised stamp on the cover says.

“Can you sign it to Ray?” he asks, and as I raise the black sharpie, I catch a flash of gold out of the corner of my eye. Then a hand in a pocket.

Oh shit.

I think I know what the woman in line behind Ray just did.

I finish signing, and hand him the book. “Go forth and give pleasure, Ray,” I tell him, like it’s a mantra. I knock fists with him, and he stares briefly at his hand afterwards, as if he’s been blessed by a master.

Of course he has.

“You have my word. I want to be a pleasure purveyor,” Ray says solemnly, as he clutches the book to his chest, reciting one of Mister Orgasm’s famous lines.

Man, someday that dude is going to be blowing the minds of the ladies. He’s got some serious determination. But not yet. Because, ya know, he’s sixteen.

I turn my eyes to the next person in line, and I’m practically blindsided by the sheer amount of breasts on display. It’s pretty much enough to activate a full-on man trance, that glazed-eye, stupid-struck look that only tits can induce in a guy. I’m not immune to it, because… tits.

They are one of my favorite playgrounds.

But I’ve had some serious training in combating the condition. Part of my job is interacting with the public. And I can’t just walk around slack-jawed staring at chests. This woman is going to put my skills to the test though. She’s wearing a scoop neck white T-shirt. That’s kryptonite for most men.

She leans forward, making sure I get a front row seat. I cast my eyes around, hoping Serena, the very pregnant, perennially smiling, but oh-so-savvy PR woman who works with my show at Comedy Nation, returns quickly from yet another bathroom break. She’s skilled at knowing when to hold the eager ladies at bay.

Look, I’m not complaining. I do not mind whatsoever that some of the show’s viewers get a little frisky at events like this. It’s all good. But I’ve got a feeling this one isn’t supposed to be playing.

“Hey there,” I say, giving a smile to Bleached Blonde. Interact. Engage. That’s part of the job. Be the public face of the hit TV show that runs at 11 p.m. and is crushing the mother fucking competition at that hour, and also earlier in the night. That both thrills the head of the network, and drives him batshit crazy, but we’ll get back to that later.