Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“You don’t have an ol’ lady or a girlfriend?” Or a wife? Why didn’t she ask this prior, instead of only assuming he was free? It was Romeo. Maddie doubted he showed any woman loyalty. Wife, ol’ lady or otherwise. “I don’t want to step on another woman’s toes by being here.” He might not care about that, but she did.
“No toes to step on.”
After a quick glance over at him to make sure he didn’t appear to be lying, Maddie wandered from the small kitchen that was to the right of the side door to the open living space that took up the majority of the building. Or house. Whatever it was considered.
The structure had a ceiling two stories high with what looked like a loft. She could barely get a glimpse of a big bed up there. Under the loft on the main floor were shelves, closets, and a door to what was most likely a bathroom.
His place pretty much reminded her of a studio apartment and was about the size of one, too.
To her left and along the side wall was a very narrow, very steep stairway that led to where he slept. It wasn’t much more than a ladder on steroids, and she couldn’t imagine trying to climb up or down the steps while either drunk or exhausted.
That was a disaster waiting to happen.
“This place is… interesting.” Despite being small and basic, it was surprisingly nice inside. Super clean? No. But it wasn’t a pigsty, either.
She had no doubt since the sweet butts cooked for him, they also cleaned his place.
As well as did other things.
She knew how the whole club girl thing worked in an MC. She’d also witnessed them being used by members of the Fury more times than she’d like to admit.
After some of those incidents, the need to bleach her eyeballs was strong.
Those same eyeballs noticed that not much decorated the walls. And what did was more a generic decor and not at all personal. If she had walked in without him, she never would’ve guessed it was his place.
That was a bit strange to her since as soon as she moved into her current apartment, she couldn’t wait to make that space her own. To turn it into her home. To put up pictures of her family and some of Jude’s drawings. To decorate it as she pleased.
“It’s a place to lay my fuckin’ head and get some privacy. That’s about it. Don’t need to be fancy.”
She turned. “No, it doesn’t.” She tipped the bottle to her lips and the cool liquid slid down her throat. She needed the beer to take off the edge because right now she was a ball of nerves.
If he broke out a joint, she might even take a hit, even though she normally didn’t smoke, pot or otherwise .
Of course, the second she thought it, he pulled what looked like a fatty as well as a lighter out of his leather cut’s inner pocket. He tossed both onto the low table in front of the couch, shrugged out of his colors and hung the worn vest on a hook next to the door. He probably never walked out of his place not representing the Knights.
That was typical MC behavior. She rarely saw anyone in the Fury not wearing theirs unless they had a good reason. Shade for sure, because he usually removed his cut as soon as he entered the house.
With a tip of his head toward the couch, he scooped up the joint and lighter as he rounded the table. Then he dropped his big body onto the couch.
She was really surprised Romeo wasn’t immediately dragging her upstairs to his bed. He acted as if he was in no rush to have sex. Like the two of them normally hung out together. As if they were best buds.
Was it that obvious that she was a bit wired, and he thought the weed would help?
He patted the seat next to him. “C’mere.” He lifted the joint. “This’ll take the edge off quicker than beer. And I want you fuckin’ sober.”
She pretended to misunderstand. “Sober for what?”
“For what you came here for.”
As she headed over to the couch—and him—she asked, “What did I come here for?”
“We playin’ dumb now? Or you just fuckin’ with me?”
She sat next to him but, unlike him, she perched on the edge. “I wouldn’t have come at all if I was fucking with you, Rome.”
He tucked the blunt between his lips and lit the rolled tip. He took a few quick puffs until the end burned steadily, then took a long pull. While he held the smoke deep down in his lungs, he offered it to her.
She stared at it a few seconds, debating whether she should or shouldn’t.
Fuck it.
She came here to get her mind off work. And Roger.
If a combination of sex and pot was what it took, then… When in Rome…
She took the rolled joint from him and tentatively took a hit. When it reached her lungs, she began to hack.
A deep chuckle came from the man sitting next to her. He plucked the joint from her fingers, taking another long drag on it.
She wrinkled her nose and rubbed her chest since her lungs were still on fire.
“You smoke weed before?”
“A few times, but not regularly. I’m assuming that’s not the case with you.”
He held the joint out to her again and shook his head. “Nope. Helps keep my temper in check.”
“You have a temper?” That was surprising. She was used to Trip’s hair trigger temper but wasn’t aware of Romeo’s.
“Got no patience for bullshit.”
She took the hand-rolled joint from him. “That makes two of us.” After taking another hit—definitely not as long as Romeo’s—she did her best to keep the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds without coughing before blowing it up and away from them.
The burn wasn’t so bad the second time.
Even better, it was starting to work its magic. The ball of stress in her chest was beginning to unravel.
Maybe she didn’t need to have sex with Romeo. Maybe all she needed was to get stoned. Or at least buzzed .
After grabbing her beer off the floor where she’d left it, she scooted back and sank into the very comfortable couch with a sigh.
His body heat practically seared her where their thighs and arms pressed together, but she didn’t move away.
“When did you get your road name?”
He snorted. “When I was about sixteen.”
She bugged her eyes out at him. “Really? You were a dog as a teenager, too?” Figures.
His cocky grin made her pulse speed up and warmth swirl through her until it landed between her legs.
Her head knew he was trouble. Apparently, the rest of her didn’t care.
“Always loved the ladies.”
“But they don’t always love you,” she countered.
“Ain’t lookin’ for love.”
“No, just wet pussy, right?”
Holy shit , did that just come out of her mouth? She glanced at the blunt still in his thick fingers. It must be some good shit. But then, he probably had the right connections.
She took another swig of her beer in an attempt to douse the fire in her belly. She needed to keep her head about her.
Maybe smoking pot and drinking beer wasn’t the best idea to do that.
“Never promised shit to any of ‘em.”
“No, you only did a bunch of sweet talking, right?”
“More like talkin’ dirty.”
“Well, you do have a way with words, Romeo.”
“My way must not be so fuckin’ bad seein’ you’re here.”
Yes, she was. But she was fully aware of the kind of man he was. And tonight, she was okay with that. She only wanted the same as what she wanted from him that night five years ago in his RV.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
The only thing different tonight would be her level of experience. As well as being in a structure that had a foundation instead of wheels.
She held out her hand.
He shook his head, took his sweet ol’ time licking his fingers, then pinched the end of the joint to extinguish it before tossing what was left back onto the table in front of them.
She stared at it with longing since she was now relaxed. Even so, him cutting her off was most likely for the best. She already felt like she was floating and also had the strong urge to take a nap.
Only, she didn’t come over here for a slumber party.
“Do you mind if I grab another beer?” Maybe that would wake her up a little more. She pushed herself to her feet, but before she could take a step toward the kitchen, he grabbed her arm and tugged her sharply, making her land on his lap.
“No.”
His thighs were thick, warm, and hard.
“No? Then what can I have?” she whispered.
His thighs weren’t the only thing hard. “You’re lookin’ at it.”
She turned herself until she straddled his lap, and their faces were only inches apart. “I am now.”
She met his brown eyes. So dark that she couldn’t see where the dark iris ended, and the black outer ring began. But that wasn’t all she noticed.
His eyes held heat and a promise, making her pussy quiver and her nipples peak.
She combed her fingers through his thick beard. “When’s the last time you’ve seen your cheeks?” Good lord , her breathless question gave away how much she wanted him right now.
She didn’t understand the attraction. For her, anyway. He chased anyone with tits and a few available holes.
“Long time. What’s with all the fuckin’ questions?”
She yanked one shoulder up in a half-shrug. “Maybe I want to get to know you better.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
So she didn’t feel guilty about doing exactly what Romeo normally did? Using someone simply for sex? Only wanting to bang and bounce?
Not being worried about strings? Not having to deal with a possessive man trying to rule her life afterward?
Truthfully, all of that sounded perfect. It was exactly what she needed. Nothing more. She was fine with one night of bumping and grinding.
“You’re right. There’s no valid reason to get to know you at all, Rome. Beyond what I already know, anyway.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “Just here to use me.”
She cocked an eyebrow back at him. “That’s right. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Long as you don’t gotta problem with me doin’ the same to you.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
Instead of him looking relieved at her words, his expression turned sour.