Sweet Home
Page 63
I dragged my fingers down my face, and Ally yanked them away. “I spent hours on your look today. Don’t spoil it!”
My hair was down, curled, full of product, and my makeup was flawless. I sported my “lucky” Prince number seven jersey and my cowboy boots, but I was pretty convinced that it was all a waste as pure fear rendered me motionless. The Tide was ranked number one but was playing the Florida Gators to decide who would be going to the National Championship against Notre Dame in California next month.
I peeked around the corner and gulped at the wall of red-clad supporters and then to the Jumbotrons showing the Tide’s successful road to the championship. I couldn’t help but melt when Romeo—either moodily swearing at a mistake or happily jumping about in celebration—played across the screen.
Then I looked up.
“Ohmigod! There are flying cameras! I can’t do it. I’m going to be sick again.”
With a determined nod to one another, Cass and Ally each linked an arm through one of mine and pulled. I saw the cheerleaders run to the respective team’s tunnels and knew the guys would be announced soon.
I dug in my heels and Ally groaned, reaching in her pocket. She pulled out a small note.
“Rome anticipated you’d do this, considering you’ve been almost mute since we got off the plane, and gave me this use this as a last resort.”
Bugger. I loved his notes.
I unfolded it and it read:
Baby,
Get your ass out in the stands and stop freakin’ out.
I need my sweet lucky kiss to win.
This isn’t a request.
I love you.
Your Romeo x
I sighed, tucking the note in my pocket to take home and join all the others in my secret trinket box. Ally and Cass had huge grins on their faces.
“Well played, Romeo, well played,” I muttered to myself.
I threw out my hand just as the introductions came through the speakers. “Lead the way, you traitors!”
They laughed at my reluctance, relinked their arms in mine, and we walked to the pitch side and towards our seats. As if the Tide fans weren’t loud enough already, one look at me walking past had them going positively insane.
I sat down and tried to ignore the thunderous booms of shouts my way. The fans were euphoric and the cacophony of music from the band only added to the craziness. Pyrotechnics sounded and Alabama was announced, followed by the Florida Gators. The players flooded the pitch, a tapestry of crimson, white and blue, and I rubbed my hands together with nerves.
I knew the focus would be on Romeo. He was first draft potential and that came with some serious hype. He’d had a stupid amount of publicity over the last few weeks—interviews, press, TV. I’d normally be hidden in the back somewhere, well out of sight.
I watched the big screens studiously and trailing at the back of the team, gripping his helmet, was Romeo. The crowd began stomping their feet in the stands when he ran out waving, and then the chants started, the Gator fans booing in response.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…”
Romeo broke through the curtain of players and jogged in my direction. Cass leaned in, slapping my cheeks affectionately. “Showtime, Momma!”
I couldn’t take my attention off my boyfriend as he stopped pitch side and crooked that bloody finger at me, flashing me a hungry, cocky smirk.
I stood on shaky feet, trying to ignore the flash of cameras and the orchestra of cheers and boos. I took the steward’s hand as he guided me to the field and walked to Rome. I stood before him as he savoured my very polished appearance.
“Hey, Mol.”
“Hey, you.”
“You gonna give up that sweet kiss?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It definitely is.”
We never changed the script, Romeo’s superstitions making sure everything was exactly right for every game. He moved in and just before his luscious mouth met mine, I whispered, “Nice move with the note, you bastard!”
He chuckled against my lips, thrusting his tongue through my barrier and stroking it back and forth in long, smooth caresses. I gripped his hair, the real world drifting away, and his hands grabbed my ass as he hoisted me up to straddle his waist. The crowd seemed to enjoy that. I moaned in his mouth and he broke away on a breathless groan. His head pressed against mine. “I love you.”
I stroked his cheek with my finger. “I love you, too.”
As he lowered me to the floor, he subtly smoothed along my stomach with his hand, swallowing as he met my watery gaze. “I’ll play for you both.”
Turning, he ran back to the pitch, and as always, I wobbled all the way back, absolutely head over heels for my quarterback.
That had been two days ago.
The Tide had won the SEC Championship and the night we’d been dreading was fast upon us. Romeo arrived through my balcony earlier that afternoon and had never left. His anxiety levels were through the roof and mine, consequently, weren’t fairing much better.
The dress code for the evening was white, so I was wearing an empire-waist white maxi dress to hide my slight bump, with silver, flat sandals. Romeo was in a crisp white suit with the required Crimson Tide tie.
He watched me move about the room from his perch on my bed, while I combed my long hair, applied my pink lipstick, and hooked my silver chandelier earrings in my ears.
When I was ready, I walked to the bed and gently straddled his legs, his hands moving to grip my backside. He was looking at me so lovingly that it broke my heart, his fear shining through like a bright warning beacon to the shore.
“You look beautiful, baby. Being pregnant definitely suits you.”
I smoothed down his crimson tie. “You look very handsome too.”
He tilted his chin for a kiss, which I obliged.
I gently touched his head with my own. “You okay?”
“I will be when tonight is done and I never have to see those people again. I can’t wait to go to Birmingham with you for Christmas and be away from their poison.”
“Remember, it’s only one night.”
“I know.”
His arms dropped from my behind and he began lifting up my floor-length dress, his hands seductively skirting over my thighs.
“Romeo…” I warned.
Rome’s eyes sparkled as his hand dropped to his fly, releasing his hardness without removing his trousers. I closed my eyes as his fingers pushed my panties aside, running along my hot centre, and in one quick thrust, he was inside me.
My hair was down, curled, full of product, and my makeup was flawless. I sported my “lucky” Prince number seven jersey and my cowboy boots, but I was pretty convinced that it was all a waste as pure fear rendered me motionless. The Tide was ranked number one but was playing the Florida Gators to decide who would be going to the National Championship against Notre Dame in California next month.
I peeked around the corner and gulped at the wall of red-clad supporters and then to the Jumbotrons showing the Tide’s successful road to the championship. I couldn’t help but melt when Romeo—either moodily swearing at a mistake or happily jumping about in celebration—played across the screen.
Then I looked up.
“Ohmigod! There are flying cameras! I can’t do it. I’m going to be sick again.”
With a determined nod to one another, Cass and Ally each linked an arm through one of mine and pulled. I saw the cheerleaders run to the respective team’s tunnels and knew the guys would be announced soon.
I dug in my heels and Ally groaned, reaching in her pocket. She pulled out a small note.
“Rome anticipated you’d do this, considering you’ve been almost mute since we got off the plane, and gave me this use this as a last resort.”
Bugger. I loved his notes.
I unfolded it and it read:
Baby,
Get your ass out in the stands and stop freakin’ out.
I need my sweet lucky kiss to win.
This isn’t a request.
I love you.
Your Romeo x
I sighed, tucking the note in my pocket to take home and join all the others in my secret trinket box. Ally and Cass had huge grins on their faces.
“Well played, Romeo, well played,” I muttered to myself.
I threw out my hand just as the introductions came through the speakers. “Lead the way, you traitors!”
They laughed at my reluctance, relinked their arms in mine, and we walked to the pitch side and towards our seats. As if the Tide fans weren’t loud enough already, one look at me walking past had them going positively insane.
I sat down and tried to ignore the thunderous booms of shouts my way. The fans were euphoric and the cacophony of music from the band only added to the craziness. Pyrotechnics sounded and Alabama was announced, followed by the Florida Gators. The players flooded the pitch, a tapestry of crimson, white and blue, and I rubbed my hands together with nerves.
I knew the focus would be on Romeo. He was first draft potential and that came with some serious hype. He’d had a stupid amount of publicity over the last few weeks—interviews, press, TV. I’d normally be hidden in the back somewhere, well out of sight.
I watched the big screens studiously and trailing at the back of the team, gripping his helmet, was Romeo. The crowd began stomping their feet in the stands when he ran out waving, and then the chants started, the Gator fans booing in response.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…”
Romeo broke through the curtain of players and jogged in my direction. Cass leaned in, slapping my cheeks affectionately. “Showtime, Momma!”
I couldn’t take my attention off my boyfriend as he stopped pitch side and crooked that bloody finger at me, flashing me a hungry, cocky smirk.
I stood on shaky feet, trying to ignore the flash of cameras and the orchestra of cheers and boos. I took the steward’s hand as he guided me to the field and walked to Rome. I stood before him as he savoured my very polished appearance.
“Hey, Mol.”
“Hey, you.”
“You gonna give up that sweet kiss?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It definitely is.”
We never changed the script, Romeo’s superstitions making sure everything was exactly right for every game. He moved in and just before his luscious mouth met mine, I whispered, “Nice move with the note, you bastard!”
He chuckled against my lips, thrusting his tongue through my barrier and stroking it back and forth in long, smooth caresses. I gripped his hair, the real world drifting away, and his hands grabbed my ass as he hoisted me up to straddle his waist. The crowd seemed to enjoy that. I moaned in his mouth and he broke away on a breathless groan. His head pressed against mine. “I love you.”
I stroked his cheek with my finger. “I love you, too.”
As he lowered me to the floor, he subtly smoothed along my stomach with his hand, swallowing as he met my watery gaze. “I’ll play for you both.”
Turning, he ran back to the pitch, and as always, I wobbled all the way back, absolutely head over heels for my quarterback.
That had been two days ago.
The Tide had won the SEC Championship and the night we’d been dreading was fast upon us. Romeo arrived through my balcony earlier that afternoon and had never left. His anxiety levels were through the roof and mine, consequently, weren’t fairing much better.
The dress code for the evening was white, so I was wearing an empire-waist white maxi dress to hide my slight bump, with silver, flat sandals. Romeo was in a crisp white suit with the required Crimson Tide tie.
He watched me move about the room from his perch on my bed, while I combed my long hair, applied my pink lipstick, and hooked my silver chandelier earrings in my ears.
When I was ready, I walked to the bed and gently straddled his legs, his hands moving to grip my backside. He was looking at me so lovingly that it broke my heart, his fear shining through like a bright warning beacon to the shore.
“You look beautiful, baby. Being pregnant definitely suits you.”
I smoothed down his crimson tie. “You look very handsome too.”
He tilted his chin for a kiss, which I obliged.
I gently touched his head with my own. “You okay?”
“I will be when tonight is done and I never have to see those people again. I can’t wait to go to Birmingham with you for Christmas and be away from their poison.”
“Remember, it’s only one night.”
“I know.”
His arms dropped from my behind and he began lifting up my floor-length dress, his hands seductively skirting over my thighs.
“Romeo…” I warned.
Rome’s eyes sparkled as his hand dropped to his fly, releasing his hardness without removing his trousers. I closed my eyes as his fingers pushed my panties aside, running along my hot centre, and in one quick thrust, he was inside me.
