Chapter Eight
Stop Talking
Working an eight-hour shift while waiting on pins and needles for Romeo to show up made time drip by with excruciating slowness. True to his word, I watched Romeo through the diner’s windows as he worked on digging my pickup out, then tried playing it cool when he came in to ask for the keys to see if the battery needed a jump. It did, and again I kept half an eye on him as he pulled his truck up to mine and hooked up the jumper cables.
When he at last got it started, a plume of vapor burst out of the pickup’s exhaust pipe to signal its resurrection. Across the diner, Heather and several customers watching out the window let out a cheer.
“That’s your knight in shining armor right there,” Heather announced smugly for all to hear.
Shining armor? No way. Tarnished armor, maybe, And he certainly wasn’t mine.
But still…
It was nice he’d gone to so much trouble to help me out.
Romeo usually showed up for dinner between six and seven, but when I went on my break just after eight, he still hadn’t made an appearance. I refused to believe I was disappointed, so I ignored the fretful gnawing in the pit of my stomach as I worked the remaining hours of my shift that stayed completely Romeo-less.
The temperature had plunged to almost zero by the time I walked out of Buzzby’s just past midnight. Gratefully I pulled on the gloves Romeo had bought for me as I headed for my pickup, the night sky above me clear and completely cloudless. The gloves made me think of the man who’d bought them, so when I heard his voice call out to me, I thought for a fleeting moment that I was imagining things. Quickly I glanced around and saw Romeo in his truck parked a couple slots away from mine, his window rolled down so I could hear him.
“I’m going to follow you home to make sure your battery doesn’t decide to up and die on the way there, so don’t freak out if you see me following you.”
“Okay, thanks,” I heard my mouth say before I could check it. Damn it. What I should have offered was a polite no thank you, then sent him on his way. After waiting hours for him to show up only to be disappointed, I was exhausted from all that pointless anticipation. Now I just wanted to crawl into bed and put this weird day behind me. Tomorrow we’d have a reset; I’d nail him down on a time that he, well… wanted to nail me down. Then that would be that. I wasn’t in the mood for this bout of sweet chivalry he was putting on display now.
If I wasn’t careful, it just might wear me down into believing he was one of the good guys.
It was a strange sensation, knowing Romeo was following right behind me as I drove home, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I at last pulled up to my apartment building. It didn’t surprise me that by the time I’d gathered my purse and keys, Romeo was already opening the pickup’s door, his gaze scanning the area as if expecting a Mongol Horde to come rampaging through.
“Okay, then.” I led the way to the building’s security door and opened it with a rattle of keys. “Thank you for seeing me home. For a biker, you make a surprisingly excellent gentleman.”
“Way to throw insults at me, woman. The last thing I am is a gentleman.” Taking my keys from me, he pushed his way into the building, snagging my hand in his as he went. “All I’m doing is taking care of what’s mine.”
“What’s yours…?” I was so stunned by his statement—and the matter-of-fact way he said it—that it didn’t fully register that he’d brought me to my front door and opened it with my keys. “Wait. You’re not referring to me, are you?”
“’Course I am.”
“You’re delusional.” It came out with more force than necessary. Not surprising, really. After all, I was trying to convince not just him, but myself as well. “I’m not yours.”
“Wrong.”
My brain couldn’t figure out if he’d actually growled that word, or if it was just shouted at me through the intensity of his gaze as he pulled me into my apartment. The slamming of the door echoed in my ears as he pushed me up against it and crushed my mouth with his.
Shock reverberated through me, freezing my limbs in place. This wasn”t how it was supposed to go. In my mind, this was supposed to be scheduled for tomorrow. I had plans of mentally building up my defenses from now until then, so that I could sex it up with this overwhelming man without feeling anything other than lust. Not romantic feelings, or any PTSD panic, which I half-feared would shut me down. This wasn”t supposed to be happening now. What if I freaked out? I wasn”t ready for him.
The wet surge between my thighs told me otherwise.
“You think you can schedule me, Shy? Control me? Control this?” Romeo kissed me again, this time grinding his hips against mine so that I could feel the powerful thrust of his hard-on. I waited for the panic to set in and was stunned when it didn’t. “I don”t think you understand what kind of man I am. I’m not someone you can fucking schedule. I’m not a chore. I’m not something you’d forget about if you didn”t write it down. But I promise you, you will understand who and what I am come morning. I’ll make damn sure of it.”
Was that a threat or a promise?
Before I could get the words out, he bent and bit my lower lip while his hands slid under my open jacket and beneath my work shirt.
The first stroke of his hand along my bare skin was like being touched by a live wire. I gasped audibly, and his lips smiled against mine before he shocked me again with an unexpectedly violent tug on my shirt. Buttons popped and went flying into the gloom of my minuscule entryway, and I gasped again at the move.
“God help me, I do love that,” he breathed, and I”d have to be deaf to not hear the yearning excitement thrumming through his voice. “Making you gasp out loud. Making you squeal. Moan. Cry out with pleasure. I get so hard just thinking about it.”
“So stop thinking about it.” Shaken and shockingly aroused by the way he”d loosened my shirt, I pushed his jacket off, then shrugged out of mine and my ruined shirt until my torso was only covered by my bra. “Stop talking about it. Just do it.”
“I”m getting that you don”t like to talk while fucking, and you know what? I understand.”
I worked at the buttons of his denim shirt, then gave up and pulled it and the thermal Henley he wore underneath over his head. Stupid winter layers. “You do? Good.”
“I understand you don”t want to make any kind of connection with me. When I”m fucking someone, I”m usually that way, too. Just shut up and bang because it feels good, then take off without an ounce of regret once you”re satisfied. Sound about right?”
“Uh-huh.” I heard him with only half an ear, because skin had officially been bared now. With his jacket and shirt off, I had to stop myself from reaching for the entryway light in order to see the hard, sculpted muscles of what my hands had already told me was a warrior’s body. Even in the near-complete dark I could still see that his smooth, taut skin was decorated here and there with tattoos—tattoos I didn’t want to know about out of fear of glimpsing something that would bring all my nightmares back. “You get it. Nothing wrong with shutting up and banging, then leaving when you’re done.”
His soundless laugh feathered along my skin, making me shiver. “I bet you’d like that, huh? Yeah, you’d friggin’ love it if things played out that way.”
“You’re still talking. Why is that?” Really, it had to be asked.
“I’m talking because I’m not following your rules, Shy girl.” His mouth skimmed along the line of my jaw while his hands closed over my bra-covered breasts. It wasn”t the sexy pink and black lace demibra I”d planned on wearing for him, instead just an ordinary white one that did nothing for my figure. Thankfully it was dark, so he didn”t seem to mind. “Too bad for you, but also good for you. Very good.”
All thought about bras screeched to a halt. “What?”
“I”m not called Romeo for nothing.” Without warning, he bent and picked me up, hauling me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift that, for some reason, hit just as hard as if he’d been carrying me princess-style across a threshold. “I want all of you, so I”m gonna get all of you. Prepare yourself to be seduced in every way possible.”
Alarm tried—and failed—to push its way through a wave of excitement. “What does that even mean?”
“You”ll find out.” He flicked on the hall light before entering my bedroom, letting the light from the hallway illuminate my personal sanctuary. “Damn, look at that. I knew you’d be a bed-maker.”
“A what?”
“A bed-maker. There are two types of people in the world, those who make their beds and those who don”t. You make your bed. I don”t.”
No surprise there. “Yep. Definitely a clash of opposites.”
“No way. More like a completed set that was meant to be.” He dropped me onto the edge of the bed, then smoothed a hand along my jaw in a surprisingly tender caress before moving around to cover the bun at the nape of my neck. “Take your hair down, Shy. I love how it looks when it”s down.”
My hands were at my bun before I gave it a thought. “You want to talk, you want my hair down. Gotta say, you sure do have a lot of prerequisites before having sex.”
“I’m getting that you have no idea what I want.” His hands went to his belt and made quick work of the fastenings. “More to the point, you have no idea what you want. But I mean to show you what it is you”ve been hungering for all your life, Shiloh McKeen. You’ve been hungering for me.”
A thrill went through me. “You really do think a lot of—” I stopped when he pulled out his dick from the trappings of his loosened clothes, because I suddenly forgot how to speak.
Well.
No wonder he thought a lot of himself.
Not to mention he wasn’t built at all like the bastard who’d kidnapped me, and for three days tortured me with the worst nightmare any woman could endure…
Stop.
Don’t think about it.
Live in the moment and don’t let that monster take this from you.
Don’t. Freak. Out.
“I got everything you need right here, but don”t take my word for it.” As if he had all the time in the world, he reached down and took my hand to curl it around his erection. I bit my lip, hard, to keep myself there in the moment, and to make myself focus on the admirable girth and sizzling heat of his hard, silken flesh. “You”re going to take my cock, Shy girl. In fact, I can guarantee that you’ll be begging for my cock before this night is through.”
“You really do think a lot of yourself.” There. Finally managed to get the whole sentence out. Go, me.
“No, baby. I really think a lot of you.” For a moment, I thought I saw him close his eyes in the gloom of my bedroom, and that one look of helpless rapture hit me in unexpected ways. He found pleasure in me. In my touch. He opened himself up to me honestly, showing me how much he loved my hands on him. How much he needed the pleasure of my touch.
God, that was beautiful.
Feminine pride at this new-found power I had over him ballooned inside me so quickly I gasped. Eagerly my hand found a rhythm, stroking his hard flesh and exploring all the bumps and ridges of his shaft with my fingers. But just as I was seriously getting into it, he broke contact and pushed me back on the mattress until I was almost in the middle of it.
“I’ll tell you something else—not only do I think a lot of you, I also think a lot about you. Like all the time. My dreams are filled with you. I think I’ve become a little obsessed.” His voice was a deep rumble, his breath shallow and disturbed. He sounded like sex, and it was the most exciting sound I’d ever heard. “You know what I’m thinking about when I think of you?”
“What?”
“I think about all the ways I’m going to make you come.” He bent over me, pushing me flat on the bed. “Time now to make a few of my fantasies a reality. Take your pants off, my Shy.”
Again I followed his order with shocking docility, stunned anew that no flutter of panic had crippled me even as I kicked my shoes off along with my pants. While I did that, he unhooked my bra and tossed it into the darkness, his eyes devouring every bared inch of me.
This was happening. This was actually happening.
And I wasn’t afraid.
Why?
I trust him, came the whispered answer, a gentle realization that soothed that poor, damaged girl hiding deep inside my soul. I trust him with me. I trust him with everything.
I was safe with Romeo.
Midwinter was never my favorite time of year, in part because there wasn”t even a hint of the pretty honey-gold tan I carefully cultivated in the warmer months. Now I was pasty pale to the point of glowing in the semi-darkness, but to my relief he didn”t seem to mind. He stared at my near-complete nudity like I was a heaven-sent miracle, and he meant to worship me for the rest of his life.
No woman could have witnessed that and remained unmoved.
“You,” he purred in a voice that was as velvety as the darkness around us, “are going to be the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Oh my God.
“Best prepare yourself, Shy girl. I’m not stopping ‘til I’ve eaten you out to the point where you don’t even know your name.”
I shivered. I couldn’t help it. “At least you won’t be talking with your mouth full, so there’s that.”
“Doesn’t mean you won’t talk.” With his hard-on so stiff it was heading toward his flat abdomen and his open jeans just hanging on to his hips, he settled on the bed, half on the mattress, half on me. “Like now. Tell me where you want me to put my mouth.”
“Everywhere.” It was the first and only answer that came to mind. “Just… everywhere.”
“You understand that everywhere I touch, becomes mine?”
And, still he talked. “Please, just… I want your mouth on me. Everywhere.”
“I can do that.”
Thank goodness.
My fingers threaded through his hair as he bent his head over me. I”d had exactly one man in my life—the young biker from hell who’d turned my whole existence inside out—so I wasn”t completely inexperienced. I thought I knew what to expect. That was why I was so utterly blown away by the almost worshipful sensation of his mouth on my skin.
Caressing.
Tasting.
Exploring.
He seemed devoted to the task of learning every inch of me via his mouth, and I was here for it.
When his tongue circled one of my nipples, I arched, aching for more, and with a low growl that perfectly mirrored the hunger tearing me apart, he gave me what I wanted. He closed his mouth over the sensitive peak, and the wet suction was enough to make the slick heat gush between my legs. I moaned with it, my hips rolling with that sweet mini-release, and he seemed to take that as his cue to move lower.
“My God, you”re a hot little firecracker, aren”t you?” He dived a hand past the only piece of clothing I had left on, my panties, and clearly found how wet he”d made me. “Did you come for me just now, my Shy?”
Even with his hand between my legs, I still felt my face go warm with a blush. Geez. “Stop talking.”
“Oh, I”ll stop,” he promised with a wicked edge to his voice that I didn”t trust for a second. But since his hand had begun to slide into the depths of my drenched channel, I didn”t have the will to protest. “But you”re going to start talking, baby, because you are as much a part of this—of wanting this—as me.”
“Please, just be qui—oh.” His fingers, slickened by my own fluids, rubbed over my clit for the first time. My whole existence slammed to a frantic, quivering halt. “Oh, Romeo. Yes. God, my God… yes.”
“That’s right, keep on begging for it, and I’ll keep on banging you with everything I got—my fingers, my mouth, my cock. I’ll devote my whole damn existence to keeping you like this forever, as long as you… keep… begging.” As he spoke, he worked to remove my sodden panties before settling between my legs. Finally. “You want me to stop?”
The mere thought was horrifying. “No. Please, no.”
His hand slowed to near-stillness. “Then what are you going to do to get me to keep fucking you?”
He was serious. I couldn’t truly see his expression in the gloom, but I knew in my heart this man was stubborn enough to get up and leave if I refused to talk and acknowledge that I was as much a part of this as he was.
Decisions, decisions.
“Romeo, please don’t stop fucking me.” And there it was. It wasn’t even a question. I still didn’t know what I was dealing with when it came to him and the man he was, but I couldn’t deny every part of me cried out in desperation for him. To pretend that I wasn’t just as into this as he was… well, that would be spineless. I was a lot of fucked-up things, but thankfully being spineless wasn’t on that list. “I want you to make me come, I’m almost there. And then… then I want to make you come.”
Again, I had the impression that he closed his eyes before brushing his lips over my tummy. “That’s my Shy girl. Keep that communication going, you hear me? I want you telling me everything you feel, everything you want, and when you can’t make words anymore, cry out and moan and squeal and scream. I know that language better than English. It gives me life.”
“I’m…” The world grew hazy as the pressure of pure bliss ballooned inside me. Inch by inch, I felt myself slipping into a giddy mindlessness that promised heaven. “I’m close. So close. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”
“I will,” he promised, his voice so sweetly gentle it brought moved tears to my eyes. “But I’m a hungry man since I skipped dinner, so now’s my chance… to eat.”
Oh. God.
God.
My head pushed back into the mattress as he scooted lower, his hand coming to spread my intimate folds before he lowered his head. The first raking of his tongue along the length of my slit nearly pushed me over the edge. I absolutely could not outlast this. He knew that, and was prolonging my sweet torment by giving his intimate attention to everywhere else but the one place I needed. Then his hand moved, his fingers pushing past my threshold to push against the interior of where my clit was at the same moment his mouth closed over that nub, and I literally saw stars.
My back arched as an explosion of insanity-inducing ecstasy crashed through my body, my soul, wrenching a breathless scream from me. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, hitting like an earthquake and shaking apart the hold I had on reality. I fell into exquisite madness, every muscle in my body clenching as spasms of purest delight threatened to rip me apart. It felt so good all I could do was hope to pick up the pieces on the other side.
I was still riding the crest of ecstasy when he fished his wallet from the jeans still hanging off his hips, pulled a condom out of a pocket and put it in place. Then he grabbed my calf muscles and slung my lower legs over his shoulders. A startled sound escaped my throat—this was certainly new—even as he slid one large hand under my butt to lift my hips. His other hand wrapped around his cock so he could guide its blood-darkened crown to my threshold.
“I like it rough, so get ready for a bumpy ride, baby.” His voice was ragged, breathless—the sound of sex, and I loved it. “But I think you’re going to like where it takes you.”
“I’m ready.” I was more than ready to feel him burying himself inside me, something I’d been aching for him to do. Then suddenly he was there, surging into me and filling my depths so completely I gasped at the near-uncomfortable sense of fullness.
“Jesus, you’re as tight as a damn virgin.” He did a little gasping himself as he took a moment to settle into me. “Nobody’s touched this pussy in a while, have they?”
“Not since… my first time.” I gasped again while my inner walls stretched and stretched, trying to accommodate his girth. “Romeo… God, you’re almost too much.”
“No such thing when it comes to us. Don’t tense up, baby,” he crooned, his strong hands holding me in place. He began to move inside me, not gently but with a relentless thrust-and-retreat rhythm that drove his cock into me so completely I felt him in every nerve. “Fuck me, Shy. Fuck me like I”m fucking you and see how good we can be together. See that we were made to fit like this. My God… God, we were made for each other.”
His reverent tone hit me deep, and better than any intimate caress, to the point where I began to relax in spite of myself. The moment I did, small flickers of pleasure came to life, lighting me up from within until I felt like I was glowing. Suddenly it was easy to move my hips to meet his thrusts, finding his rhythm like I’d been born to do just that. The flickers of pleasure grew, evolving from a sweet, warm glow to a ravenous fire that needed more friction to blow my world apart.
Yes.
Mindlessly I chased after that explosion, pumping my hips in an ever-faster cadence that soon had me panting out loud.
Then moaning.
Then crying out.
Then crying out his name.
He wasn’t too much for me, after all. Oh, no.
He was perfect.
Fierce grunts began to sound from him, in time with every powerful thrust. His hips smacked audibly against me as he drove his cock into my depths all the way to his hilt. His movements were so savage, so powerful, they rocked my universe, shaking me apart until I came again just as he let out a hoarse groan that filled the room. His head flung back, and even in the dark I could see the tendons standing out in his neck.
In that moment, he was indescribably beautiful.
Breathless, he braced himself on the bed and pulled out before taking my legs from his shoulders. Then he fell over on his side, taking me with him, his arms wrapping me against his chest.
“There aren’t a lot of moments in my life that hit me as something I’ll never forget,” he said between breaths that were still as disturbed as my own. “This, being inside you and feeling you come… Swear to Christ, Shy, I’ll never forget tonight.”
Delight and something far deeper moved through me in a warm, sweet wave. Overwhelmed by it as much as him, I rested my brow on his bare chest covered with a tattoo I couldn’t see in the dark. “Even after all this, you’re still talking.”
“Damn right.” His huff of laughter mingled with mine as his arms tightened around me. “What can I say, I’m a chatty asshole. Get used to it.”
I laughed again and wrapped my arms around him to return his hug. “Okay.”