Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)
Page 11
“She says she’s just tired.” Reaching out, Ally laid her hand on my bare arm. “Molly’s extremely guarded, Rome. She don’t really let anyone in. She’s the most private person I know.”
Not true, she’d fucking let me in—on Ally’s balcony, that night at the initiation. I was friggin’ different to her. I knew I was, but her never turning up or sticking around for me to see her was really starting to piss me off.
In a second, I made up my mind… Time to pay Miss Shakespeare a visit. No more hiding.
“I know that face,” Ally said warily, a flood of questions in her eyes.
Backing out of the doorway and smiling at her reproachful face, I waved. “Catch you later. I got somewhere to be.”
Slamming her hands onto her waist, Ally yelled, “Rome, I’m not so sure it’s such a good idea to go over there uninvited! She’s not one of your sluts!” Pretending not to hear the worry and censure in her tone, I kept going through the crowd but smiled when I heard her shout begrudgingly, “It’s the balcony to the left of mine, top floor! But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Stepping out of the backdoor of my frat house and running across the street, I found myself below Molly’s balcony, looking up at the stone columns, a dim light coming from her room, and I shook my head in complete disbelief.
Romeo below fucking Juliet’s balcony…. Fuck. Me. Sideways.
Reaching down to my junk, I checked my balls were still there… You know, just in case they’d been revoked at such a pathetic and desperate act, but yeah—still intact and aching for the chick in that room just a stone’s throw away.
I reached down to the fancy landscaped lawn borders, scooped up some of the red gravel surrounding the plants and rolled the stones in my hands. I was about ready to throw them at her window when my cell vibrated in my pocket, my fingers parted and the gravel slipped through the gaps.
Moving to a shadowed, secluded spot, I slumped down to the warm grass and read the message.
Daddy: Look, son, I went too far with you the other day. Let’s talk about this calmly. I really need you to make this marriage with Shelly happen. The business needs it, the family needs it, and if you want to keep things good between us, you need it to happen too.
My head fell forward. Even when he was trying to be nice, he couldn’t help but issue a threat. I didn’t know who he got it from. My grandparents were the nicest folk on Earth. His brother, Ally’s daddy, a saint, but my daddy was ruined by money and greed, and meeting my momma—who was equally as money-hungry—turned him into a nightmare.
My stomach sank some as I thought of my paternal grandparents. I’d been real young when they moved to Florida, and they both passed away shortly after they left.
I remember my granddaddy taking me to pee-wee football for the very first time. He’d been so damn proud of me that day, proud that his grandson showed good promise. But he never got to see me play properly, and I wished he could’ve stuck around longer to see what I became. I remember it feeling so different being around my grandparents; even as a tiny kid I could tell that much. They always cared for me, and on my eighteenth birthday, I found out just how much. They’d left me a trust fund, a fucking huge trust fund, one that my folks couldn’t touch. My daddy flipped when I told him a lawyer had turned up at my frat house with the details, and it was from that day that he knew he could no longer use money to control me, so he switched to blackmail and humiliation instead.
Fighting the urge to scream and pummel my fists into the wall, I stared up at the sky, deep in thought.
What was I doing? My folks were never going to let me out of this marriage shit, and part of me felt like just giving in for an easier life, but more of me wanted to resist it with every ounce of my being.
Rolling my neck, I stared back up at Molly’s balcony. If I kept going down this road with her, I knew there was the very real danger that I’d never be able to let her go. I wasn’t stupid. Christ, she’d already gotten into my head and I’d barely even touched her, barely even scratched the surface of who she really was. But I was addicted nonetheless, and I had to decide right now if she was worth it… worth disobeying my folks… worth facing months of hell… worth lowering my barriers.
Thoughts of today’s game bolted into my mind. I’d asked her to be there for me, to support me, and although it wasn’t what she wanted, she came anyway, sacrificing her precious study time… for me. Having her there completely changed my game, that kiss relaxing me for the first time in such a long time. I couldn’t ever say that about my folks, or any other chick I’d fucked. Too many people wound me up to the point of snapping, but not Molly. She listened, comforted, and calmed me right down. Who wouldn’t become desperate to have that level of connection all the damn time?
Molly made me feel good about myself. Christ, she made me friggin’ smile, and the way she’d coped with so much shit in her own life gave me hope, hope that maybe I could get through my obstacles too… one day… maybe with her help.
Fuck it! She was worth every shitty text, every aggressive slur, and every strike I’d have coming my way.
After I’d been sitting debating my predicament for nearly an hour, I rose to my feet with a new sense of determination, scooping up more gravel as I went, and set to launching them at Molly’s closed balcony doors. I figured if that weedy fucker Montague could get his prize this way, I had a pretty good chance of doing so as well.
Shadows danced behind the white curtains and the balcony doors opened slowly. “Shakespeare?” I called softly, checking the grounds of the sorority house to make sure no one was around.
There were a few moments filled with shuffling sounds before a mass of long brown hair fell over the balcony rail and a pair of taped-up glasses looked down at me.
“Hey, Mol,” I said, my chest already feeling lighter in her presence.
“Hey, you. What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyebrows pulled together to form a deep frown.
“I came to see you.”
She straightened some and asked, “You did? Why?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because I want to kiss those damn lips again so bad I can’t bear it… Then I want to continue south until I taste you on my tongue as you come and writhe against my mouth… Only to then strip you bare and fuck you until you can’t stand. I didn’t think the truth would go over too well with a girl like Molly, so I simply replied, “Because I noticed you weren’t out. And I wanted to make sure you were okay after today. I’ve been thinking about you all night.”
Pushing her broken frames back on her nose, she asked, “Shouldn’t you be with Shelly?”
Those words caused my back to stiffen, and I snapped, “Why the fuck would I be with her?” The very fact that Molly thought I’d be with Shelly of all people, had me steaming with rage. Shelly! Why did everything always come back to her?
Clearing her throat, Molly answered, “She was with you after the game. The two of you looked cozy. I thought you might have wanted to celebrate with her tonight.” Although she’d fought to hide it, I caught the disappointment in her voice. I got it. She’d heard all the rumors about me, about me fucking any piece of ass that moved, so why should she trust me? Why think she was different to me?
I needed her to be convinced.
Standing directly below her and pinning her with my gaze, I pronounced, “Let’s get this straight right now. She’s not fuckin’ anything to me. Never will be.” Molly’s entire body visibly relaxed and a small smile broke on her lips.
Wait—
“Is that why you bailed on the party? Because you thought I’d be with that conniving bitch?” Even in the dark, I could see the guilty blush smother her cheeks.
Shit. That was why she snubbed my party and why she wasn’t there for me at the end of the game.
“Rome, I just didn’t fancy the party tonight, that’s all. You go and enjoy yourself. You don’t need to check on me.” She was trying to push me away. I knew I was a scary concept to he
r—hell, to most—but this was one fight I wasn’t going to lose. She was one chick I wouldn’t just throw away.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her, my voice stern and laced with authority. I grimaced internally, unsure if my tone would scare her off. But hell, this was me: stubborn, strict, one hell of a moody fucker, and harboring a desperate need to be in control.
As always, the girl surprised me, and instead of being deterred and telling me to fuck off, she burst into hysterical laughter.
I wasn’t sure whether to be pissed off or join in on the amusement. “What’re you finding so funny, Shakespeare?” I asked, a hoarse roughness to my voice.
Leaning farther forward, she sang, “That Romeo has come to my balcony to strive for my attention.” I barely even noticed she said that damn name; I was too mesmerized by the lift in her spirit.
Clasping her hands, she recited, “The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here… they will murder thee.”
“How the hell do you know that from memory?” I asked, fighting not to return the wide smile that was plastered on her damn cute face.
“I’ve read it about a hundred times. It’s beautifully tragic.” Pointing at me, then herself, she said, “Kind of like us, don’t you think?”
She’d hit the friggin’ nail on the head. We were tragic, both pretty fucked up. But we could be fucked-up together, balance it out.
Running to the side of the balcony, I spotted a trellis and, groaning at the damn irony, began climbing up the wall like a man possessed.
“Romeo, be careful! What the hell are you doing?” Molly hissed, watching me in horror.
“Coming to see my Juliet,” I said in jest, watching her face pale as she stumbled back in surprise, then climbing the rest of the way and jumping onto the terrace. I hit the floor with a thud, but then I looked up… and almost had a stroke.
Brown hair to her waist, thick enough to grip, and the shortest, thinnest scrap of pink material barely covering her impressive curves, the beads of her nipples visible, tempting me to just step forward and take them in my mouth. My cock instantly hardened in my jeans, and moving toward her, noting the quickened rise and fall of her braless tits, I reached out, stroking her soft dark hair—even the thin wrap of sports tape in the center of her frames unable to distract me from how fucking stunning she was right here before me.
In an instinctive move, her hand met mine, and, taking advantage of the lust widening in her eyes, I moved in, running my finger down her neck, my restraint hanging by a thread.
“Romeo? W-what are you doing?” Molly asked, her question more of a strangled moan than anything else.
“I ain’t sure. But I don’t wanna stop,” I whispered against her neck. Vanilla. Her. Fucking perfection.
“Rome, I don’t think—” She stopped mid-sentence as she whipped around to look down at the backyard, fear on her face. Students flooded the yard, the party spilling to this side of the street. I didn’t give a shit, though. In fact, let all of the student body see us like this. So with more aggression, I slammed her body against mine and nipped along the bare skin of her neck, continuing where we left off.
“We… we need to stop,” Molly whispered into my ear, but there was no conviction in her tone, just breathy pleas spurring me on.
“No, Mol. I’ve held off for long enough. I’ve tried to take things slow, but no more. I won’t be a nothing to you anymore. I want you. I want you so fucking bad…” I said quietly, my voice hoarse with need, my desperation increasing by the second. Reality and fantasy blurred into one, and I couldn’t get the image of us intertwined on her bed out of my mind. I almost groaned out loud at the thought that in about ten minutes, I’d have her stripped bare, could be plunging deep in her pussy.
Soft hands skimmed up my bare arms, feeling so damn right against my skin. “Rome. This isn’t a good idea. I can’t do this.” But she didn’t pull away; her hips and tits were still pressing into my body
“Sure you can,” I murmured, my hands slowly drifting down, hearing the hitch in her breathing as I caressed her waist.
Those damn soft hands suddenly pushed me back, snapping me to the harshness of reality. “Please… just… hold on a moment,” she said in a fluster, arms locked and braced to stop me getting any closer.
Well, that was a first, a chick stopping me from fucking her. I hadn’t had to work at sex since I was in high school; matter of fact, I never did then either. Chicks were just always drawn to me. Not Molly, though; she was proving one tough fucking nut to crack.
“What?” she suddenly asked, and I realized I was imitating a friggin’ statue, standing gaping at her in shock. She was still panting, trying to catch her breath.
Shuffling awkwardly, I admitted, “No one’s ever told me no before.”
Her mouth dropped like a damn cartoon character, and she emitted a single disbelieving laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” I answered through clenched teeth. Fuck, I felt like I was in pain, my fists clenching as my cock throbbed in my boxers.
A giggle escaped her mouth, and she blurted, “That’s… pathetic.”
Yeah… I guess it kind of was.
Dragging my teeth along my bottom lip, I moved in toward her tense body and held her by the hips. The damn sweet sound of her giggle broke through the thick wall of my aggression, and with a ghost of a smirk, I confessed, “But true.”
She shook her head, actually looking pretty damn disgusted, and tipped her chin to the sky. It dawned on me that maybe my past with chicks was putting her off.
With dread pitted in my chest, I plucked up the courage to ask, “You don’t want this? You don’t want… me?” I was so damn scared to hear her response. Actually scared for the first time in years.
“Romeo… I—”
“What?” I interrupted. I didn’t want to be pitied. I wouldn’t be made a fool of. Not by her. Not by anyone.
I watched the conflict in her eyes, but with a sag of her shoulders, she ultimately gave in, her want for me, for us, overpowering her logic. “You’re a lot to take on, you know,” she said with a defeated sigh, but her fingers wrapped in my red Tide T-shirt, subtly bringing me closer.
“I know,” I answered semi-humorously, feeling like I’d just won the friggin’ lottery.
Those hypnotizing golden-brown eyes searched mine, confusion glaring through, and she confessed, “I don’t know what you want from me. You tie me up in knots and I’m not used to it.”
You, I want only you, I thought. But out loud, I said, “Then let me show you what I want. Stop fuckin’ fighting this.” I couldn’t deal with any more running, any more hiding, couldn’t tolerate one more day without knowing I had her as mine.
Arms fidgeted and she tried to break loose, but I held on tight, causing her to murmur, “No, Rome, this is just… just…”
I’d well and truly had enough of this back-and-forth shit.
“I want to be with you,” I snapped, losing my patience, arms like a vise around her waist. “Come on, Mol. I need you. Tell me you get me. Tell me you’re as fuckin’ into me as I am you.”
Caramel eyes closed, and any remaining shreds of resistance left her rigid body. Then two words from her mouth changed everything. “Come inside.”
Exhaling a long, pent-up breath, I could only respond in the best way I knew how—with a sincere and a heartfelt, “Fuck. Yeah.”
12
The minute we’d stepped into her room, I was on Mol—hands roaming on her tight body, fisting her nightgown—and I slowly backed her toward her bed. Our mouths meshed furiously, tongues thrashed together as we hit the mattress, and I set to doing what do best.
Molly gripped my shirt hard, moaning and groaning into my mouth, and when her hands met the bare skin of my back, it was the green light I’d been waiting for.
Breaking from her mouth, I slipped my hand up her thigh, working toward her core, when she slammed
on the breaks with a tight hold on my wrist.
“I-I can’t. It’s going too fast.”
Tipping my head back, I almost screamed out in frustration. I was so damn turned on I was almost blind with need. Molly released an embarrassed whimper, and seeing her flushed face, I instantly felt like an ass.
“Don’t do that,” I said, holding her face in my hands.
“Do what?”
“Feel bad for stopping. Never feel bad for that. When I have you, it’ll be when I have you writhing in need, begging me to fuck you. Never feel bad for stopping. When you give yourself to me, you’ll be so wet you can’t fucking stand it.”
Her pupils dilated and her lips parted. “When I give myself to you?”
She was so friggin’ cute.
“When you give yourself to me.”
Shifting slightly away, she said, affronted, “You’re confident. I might refuse you.”
She wouldn’t. Yeah, I may sound like an arrogant dick, but the way her eyes devoured me, my body, there was no fucking way she’d hold out long.
She was still staring at me, waiting for me to speak, so I said, “We’re going to happen. We both know it’s true, and I’m counting the days until I get inside you and make you come… over and over again. Fuckin’ counting the minutes…”
Lust took her over and she almost pounced on me there and then, but I pushed her back to the mattress. She was the one girl I didn’t want to just fuck and leave as soon as it was done.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’re not ready.”
“You didn’t. It’s just… It’s just that… I’m… not very experienced… and I…”
I sat up, reality hitting home. “Shit, are you a virgin?”
Shifting before me, she blushed and confessed, “No, not a virgin, but I’m not exactly skilled in all things… seductive. I’ve only ever slept with one person and only one time, this past year.”
And just like that, I really fucking wished she was a virgin, jealously over some unknown douchebag taking hold.