Sweet Home
Page 26
I tried to turn, but his arms held me like a vise. I settled for kissing our intertwined hands instead, lilting, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d.”
Romeo exhaled a sharp hiss from his lips and his hips undulated between my thighs. “Don’t… please…”
“Why don’t you allow it?” I asked tentatively, pushing back against his movements.
“Long story.”
“We have time.”
“Not now,” he said with finality in his tone and a squeeze of his arms, his tongue grazing my skin as he rocked even closer.
I fought my need, stilling his hips with my hands, swiftly changing the subject to a safer topic, ignoring his sigh of protest. “What does the tattoo on your ribs say?”
“‘The greatest accomplishment is not in never falling, but in rising again when you fall.’ It’s Vince Lombardi.”
The words spoke to me as if they directly related to my life. I closed my eyes and watched the inspiring words circle through my head like a mantra. “It’s beautiful. This Vince Lombardi philosopher must be good. Why have I never heard of him?”
He chuckled and playfully tugged on the ends of my hair.
“What now?” I asked, exasperated.
“He was a football coach. A very famous football coach.”
“Oh. I really need to get up to speed on all things football.”
His hold tightened around my waist. “I’d like it if you didn’t. You’re not impressed by the hoopla that comes with me playin’ football and I never want you to be either. It’s better if you don’t know in depth what it all means to folks ‘round here.”
“You mean you really don’t want me to call you Bullet?” I teased.
“Fuck no.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“Sleep, Mol,” he repeated through clenched teeth, “or we’ll end up doing what makes me incredibly f**kin’ happy.”
I had to bite my lip to stop the soliciting moan threatening to burst free. “One more question, then I’ll sleep.”
He sighed. “One more. You’re pushin’ your luck.”
“Why One Day?”
He stiffened. I ran my finger over his hand and he relaxed, pressing a kiss on the top of my spine. “That I’d leave this place, one day. Be my own person, one day. Do what I want… one day,” he said so quietly I had to strain to hear.
Water filled my eyes at his heart-breaking answer. “Has it always been so bad for you?”
“That was two questions, Shakespeare. I agreed to one. Now, sleep.”
I gave up, settling into his strong arms.
After five minutes of worried thinking, I stated, “Romeo? I don’t want everyone to know about us yet. I want to keep our relationship to ourselves.”
He withdrew his arms from around my stomach and slowly rolled to sit on the side of the bed, dropping his head in his hands. “I get it. You’re embarrassed to be with me. Bullet, the aggressive, whorin’ QB—not boyfriend material, right? But good for a few f**ks in secret…”
I reached over, gripping his arm and nuzzling his back. “What? No! I… I’m just nervous!”
“Nervous of what?” He turned to face me, worried.
“Look, I’m not what you go for. I don’t look like the others—polished, perfect, twenty-twenty vision.” I caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. “Please can we just wait a bit longer before the whole campus finds out? For my sake? It’s going to take some adjustment on my part to be with you. I just need some time.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, lips tight. “I want to show everyone I’m with you now. I’m not f**kin’ hidin’ us, and I don’t give a shit what people think. As for my past, that’s not what I want with you. I want more. Don’t you get that by now? Christ!”
It still didn’t change anything. “Please. Just for a while. You’re Romeo Prince. Your… reputation scares me a little. Let’s just be us in private for a while, see how it goes without anyone else interfering.”
He released a loud, pissed-off sigh and shook his head. “Fuck, Mol!”
“Please.”
“Fine! We’ll keep it quiet… I don’t f**kin’ like it, but I’ll do it for you, even if the thought of us being a secret makes me wanna punch someone square in the face.”
I tsked and shook my head disapprovingly.
“What now?” he complained.
“You, swearing so bloody much. Do you have to use the F-word in every single sentence you say?”
“Fuck yeah,” he answered with a smug grin, pushing me down to the bed and pressing kisses all across my face. I squealed and took his hand, stopping the assault, wrapping it across my waist, forcing him to cuddle in behind me.
“And by the way, you won’t be hitting anyone anymore. I pacify you, remember?”
“Sleep! Do as you’re told for once, for both our sakes,” he said rigidly, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe wrapped in his strong embrace.
9
I walked towards the cafeteria, slightly drained from the ethics lecture I’d just attended—actually, scratch that—I was slightly drained from the lack of sleep I’d had over the past few nights, due to Romeo’s frequent bedtime visits. I couldn’t help the smile that drifted on my lips as I thought of how tender and sweet he was with me, how he never pushed me further than I was willing to go and seemed to adore me, telling me I was different to any other girl he’d ever met.
Crazy.
I was almost at the door, lost in my thoughts, when I spotted Romeo outside on his phone. I smiled and moved to say hello when I caught sight of his distraught face, his hand on his forehead, and lips pursed in anger as he snapped to his caller in short, sharp grunts.
Without noticing me, he ended the call and headed back inside, but not before he kicked over the trashcan with a loud “argh” and marched through the doors, students scrambling out of his way, sensing danger and running for self-preservation.
Entering the cafeteria, I joined my friends, discreetly watching Rome as he pounded through the room with heavy feet, yanked out his chair, and sat with the football team, pinching the bridge of his nose, face stern with anger.
Romeo exhaled a sharp hiss from his lips and his hips undulated between my thighs. “Don’t… please…”
“Why don’t you allow it?” I asked tentatively, pushing back against his movements.
“Long story.”
“We have time.”
“Not now,” he said with finality in his tone and a squeeze of his arms, his tongue grazing my skin as he rocked even closer.
I fought my need, stilling his hips with my hands, swiftly changing the subject to a safer topic, ignoring his sigh of protest. “What does the tattoo on your ribs say?”
“‘The greatest accomplishment is not in never falling, but in rising again when you fall.’ It’s Vince Lombardi.”
The words spoke to me as if they directly related to my life. I closed my eyes and watched the inspiring words circle through my head like a mantra. “It’s beautiful. This Vince Lombardi philosopher must be good. Why have I never heard of him?”
He chuckled and playfully tugged on the ends of my hair.
“What now?” I asked, exasperated.
“He was a football coach. A very famous football coach.”
“Oh. I really need to get up to speed on all things football.”
His hold tightened around my waist. “I’d like it if you didn’t. You’re not impressed by the hoopla that comes with me playin’ football and I never want you to be either. It’s better if you don’t know in depth what it all means to folks ‘round here.”
“You mean you really don’t want me to call you Bullet?” I teased.
“Fuck no.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“Sleep, Mol,” he repeated through clenched teeth, “or we’ll end up doing what makes me incredibly f**kin’ happy.”
I had to bite my lip to stop the soliciting moan threatening to burst free. “One more question, then I’ll sleep.”
He sighed. “One more. You’re pushin’ your luck.”
“Why One Day?”
He stiffened. I ran my finger over his hand and he relaxed, pressing a kiss on the top of my spine. “That I’d leave this place, one day. Be my own person, one day. Do what I want… one day,” he said so quietly I had to strain to hear.
Water filled my eyes at his heart-breaking answer. “Has it always been so bad for you?”
“That was two questions, Shakespeare. I agreed to one. Now, sleep.”
I gave up, settling into his strong arms.
After five minutes of worried thinking, I stated, “Romeo? I don’t want everyone to know about us yet. I want to keep our relationship to ourselves.”
He withdrew his arms from around my stomach and slowly rolled to sit on the side of the bed, dropping his head in his hands. “I get it. You’re embarrassed to be with me. Bullet, the aggressive, whorin’ QB—not boyfriend material, right? But good for a few f**ks in secret…”
I reached over, gripping his arm and nuzzling his back. “What? No! I… I’m just nervous!”
“Nervous of what?” He turned to face me, worried.
“Look, I’m not what you go for. I don’t look like the others—polished, perfect, twenty-twenty vision.” I caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. “Please can we just wait a bit longer before the whole campus finds out? For my sake? It’s going to take some adjustment on my part to be with you. I just need some time.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, lips tight. “I want to show everyone I’m with you now. I’m not f**kin’ hidin’ us, and I don’t give a shit what people think. As for my past, that’s not what I want with you. I want more. Don’t you get that by now? Christ!”
It still didn’t change anything. “Please. Just for a while. You’re Romeo Prince. Your… reputation scares me a little. Let’s just be us in private for a while, see how it goes without anyone else interfering.”
He released a loud, pissed-off sigh and shook his head. “Fuck, Mol!”
“Please.”
“Fine! We’ll keep it quiet… I don’t f**kin’ like it, but I’ll do it for you, even if the thought of us being a secret makes me wanna punch someone square in the face.”
I tsked and shook my head disapprovingly.
“What now?” he complained.
“You, swearing so bloody much. Do you have to use the F-word in every single sentence you say?”
“Fuck yeah,” he answered with a smug grin, pushing me down to the bed and pressing kisses all across my face. I squealed and took his hand, stopping the assault, wrapping it across my waist, forcing him to cuddle in behind me.
“And by the way, you won’t be hitting anyone anymore. I pacify you, remember?”
“Sleep! Do as you’re told for once, for both our sakes,” he said rigidly, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe wrapped in his strong embrace.
9
I walked towards the cafeteria, slightly drained from the ethics lecture I’d just attended—actually, scratch that—I was slightly drained from the lack of sleep I’d had over the past few nights, due to Romeo’s frequent bedtime visits. I couldn’t help the smile that drifted on my lips as I thought of how tender and sweet he was with me, how he never pushed me further than I was willing to go and seemed to adore me, telling me I was different to any other girl he’d ever met.
Crazy.
I was almost at the door, lost in my thoughts, when I spotted Romeo outside on his phone. I smiled and moved to say hello when I caught sight of his distraught face, his hand on his forehead, and lips pursed in anger as he snapped to his caller in short, sharp grunts.
Without noticing me, he ended the call and headed back inside, but not before he kicked over the trashcan with a loud “argh” and marched through the doors, students scrambling out of his way, sensing danger and running for self-preservation.
Entering the cafeteria, I joined my friends, discreetly watching Rome as he pounded through the room with heavy feet, yanked out his chair, and sat with the football team, pinching the bridge of his nose, face stern with anger.
