Previously, Mia and Wes went to New York because Mia has a new job in television and isn’t doing the job that gave the series its name anymore. They agree to get married… again. Wes is jealous that Mia is still friends with men… again. A minor character whose name I already forget shouted “Holy black balls, Batman!” and I have no idea if this is racist, but don’t worry, this chapter definitely gets racist.
Calendar Girl (November): Chapter 2
The chapter kicks off with Wes having another nightmare. Remember how Wes is suffering from PTSD because suddenly this story was vaguely about terrorism for half a book and since then it’s been about how Wes needs Mia to cure his trauma with sex? Yeah. I bet you miss Fifty Shades NOW.
“No! Don’t touch her. Gina! Gina!”
I woke to Wes’s raised voice. […] Things had been going extremely well with the therapy. Since we left Malibu to come to NYC, he missed his last session this past week.
For a second, I cursed myself for being so selfish. Here I wanted him to be with me on assignment in New York when he probably needed the comfort and security of home to continue through the healing process. It had only been five weeks since his captivity.
Everyone in these books needs to fucking chill.
Suddenly, something new happens and Wes starts screaming for Mia, which is weird because she wasn’t kidnapped. I guess. There’s fucking nothing happening in this story now; I’m grasping at straws. Mia pours some cold water on Wes to wake him up, and they do their usual thing where she asks him some questions to ground him in reality and then they start fucking.
“Baby”—I cupped his cheeks—“tell me what happened.”
“After,” he whispered before looping an arm around my back and sucking my nipple into his mouth through the silk nightie.
I’m not even surprised by how unhealthy the treatment of Wes’s PTSD is anymore. Now I’m just surprised that Mia wears silk lingerie to bed for some goddamn reason.
Wes loved me in lingerie. That was a surprise.
I genuinely can’t tell if this is supposed to be sarcastic.
Thankfully, this actually turns out to be an exceptionally hilarious sex scene (thankfully for me, I mean). Check all this shit out! We’ve got crazy goofy dialogue:
“I love your breasts.” He swirled his tongue around one.
“And they love you,” I panted
We’ve got crazy goofy descriptions of how good the sex is:
Each time was like his dick were piercing straight through to my soul.
SERIOUSLY FUCKING READ THAT SENTENCE. IT’S LIKE THE MONA LISA OF SHITTY EROTICA.
I cried out, feeling like I’d been split in two by his thick cock ramming deep. Again and again he pounded into me, taking everything he needed to fight back the demons that plagued him
Oh, yeah, don’t forget this isn’t just sex, this is about healing Wes’s traumatized psyche. This might sound like a complete disaster, but look at how beautifully overwritten this shit is:
Every thrust and tug, and every breath that burst out of our mouths was bringing my man back to me, back to the here and now. To the place where love reigned and the demons could slip back into their holes and die.
It gets better, because THERE’S DIALOGUE LIKE THIS TOO:
“Need to fuck you hard, Mia. Chase away the demons…” He closed his eyes, fingers digging into my hips.
WHO TALKS LIKE THIS DURING SEX? WHO TALKS LIKE THIS DURING SEX THAT DOESN’T IMMEDIATELY STOP RIGHT THEN AND THERE AS THE OTHER PERSON REFLECTS ON ALL THEIR DECISIONS THAT BROUGHT THEM TO THAT MOMENT?
“Let’s chase them, baby.” I lifted up and squeezed my internal muscles so he’d have no choice but to pay attention to the naked woman wrapped around his cock
And to top it all off, we get the surprise return of our favorite inscrutable recurring erotica trope: VOICE-ACTIVATED ORGASMS!
Finally, finally he opened his eyes. Blazing green orbs of lust stared back at me, and he growled a single word. “Come.”
For the first time ever, that one word did it. I shot off like a rocket into orbit
I’m fairly certain that if I just tried telling someone to come in real life, they’d just stop texting me back.
After the sex, Mia gives us one last horribly written sentence about her vagina for the road:
If he hadn’t just broken the rollercoaster ride that was my vagina from too many goes
Nothing that happened in this chapter sounds like it was even remotely pleasant.
Mia asks about Wes’s dream and he reluctantly explains that in his dream, he saw Gina being sexually assaulted by the vague terrorists again, but then Gina turned into Mia. Would you be surprised to hear that Calendar Girl frames Wes’s dependence on Mia as romantic gosh really you wouldn’t gosh
“You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Without you, without our love, I’d have gone down a very nasty path. Mia, you give me a reason to carry on, a reason to live. You give me hope for what’s to come.”
GOSH.
“Has anything happened in this chapter yet? Do they just fuck and that’s it?” You might be asking yourself. God, I fucking wish, because next up we get the return of our least favorite minor character…
The phone rang three times before she picked up with a breathless, “Hello.”
“Gin, what’s going on? Why are you out of breath?” I glanced at the clock and it read eleven o’clock in the morning, eight Pacific Time.
It’s Gin, who is obviously getting laid right now! Classic Gin!
“Um, no reason. Ohhh, uh…mmm. Stop it,” she said through the phone, but I doubted she was talking to me.
I like how eleven books in, the only thing that Gin brings to the story is to get laid a lot. Truly, a character who brings a lot that was missing from this story. Hell, she doesn’t even bring a unique name to the story, since every time she shows up I have to clarify she’s not Gina, who’s a different character. Well, I guess you’re here now, Gin. What crassly lascivious exclamation do you have for us today?
“Really? Okay, well, just wanted to give you a heads up that Wes asked me to marry him. I’m getting married on January first, destination to be determined. Enjoy your fuckfest.”
I pressed the End button and counted down waiting for it. […] The phone rang […]
“You called me, remember? At eight o’clock in the mother flippin’ morning, on a weekday, while I was getting my hoo-hah sucked on for the first time in months and dropped that bomb on me? You suck. You know that, Mia?” She said with a heaping dose of irritation. “If you knew how bad you sucked…you’d say…God damn, I sucked!”
Oh, Gin, what a hoot and a half. Or as Gin would say, more like a hoo-hah and a half! Probably. Just write a sentence and turn it into a sex joke that only kind of makes sense. It’s probably really easy to write Gin. Let’s all just be thankful she isn’t in this book more.
Mia asks Gin if she thinks she’s rushing into things with Wes, and Gin says it seems like they really like each other so probably not. I mean, they take a lot of words to say that, but I can’t imagine anyone reading this blog right now even begins to care about the nuances of that conversation. I bet most of you are skimming down the page to see when the word “Gin” seems to stop showing up.
Yeah, I don’t have good news for any of you about that. This is the rest of the chapter.
“Holy shit! You’re bangin’ Tao, Tai’s brother? How? When?”
She giggled. “We’ve been talking since May.”
Oh, cool, an old character from the Hawaii book is back! Guess this means we have to worry about Calendar Girl fetishizing a person of color again!
“Girl…he’s making me see Hawaiian fire gods every time he—”
That only took one page this time!