ROME
Chapter eleven
I missed. Completely missed.
I haven’t heard from the stalker since his brother threatened to kill me two weeks ago.
I’ve been training, shooting sponsor commercials, and travelling to two away games, but Rain’s ensured to keep me on my toes.
Different bouquets of flowers are delivered every four days, each note the same two words: I’m sorry.
I’ve taken the enormous bouquets across the road to Mrs Parker.
I enjoy seeing her face light up when I give on the new ones to the seventy-year-old.
Her husband passed a year ago, and he brought her flowers every Friday.
The Friday after his funeral, I brought her daisies and carried on his tradition.
I kick the ball around with their granddaughter occasionally.
Six-year-old Isla will come running over and knock profusely until I open the door, then take my hand and drag me across the street.
Between Rain, the flowers, training, games, and my parents, I’m exhausted, and it’s become apparent in my shitty performance.
Taking a bottle of water and an electrolyte drink from the fridge beside me, I move across the dark room and trudge upstairs. The sweet strawberry taste lingers on my tongue as I place the drinks on my side table in the dark, throw my phone to my bed, and pull my t-shirt over my head.
Stepping into the bathroom, I flick on the light and stare in the mirror. Dark circles have formed under my eyes from the lack of sleep, and training yesterday confirmed I’ve lost two kilograms in the past two weeks because of stress.
A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I drop the material and remove the rest of my clothes. The grey tile chills my sore feet as I flick off the light and move into the open shower across the room.
I don’t deserve any light.
Finding the knobs in the dark, I gasp through the cold water pummelling my face, letting the chill stab my skin until it begins to warm. My overworked, tired muscles release their strain, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.
My dick decides to go the opposite of relaxed and stands. Try as I might to ignore it, it’s throbbing and aching. I rest my forehead against my left hand on the wall, take the thick muscle in the other, and begin stroking.
I usually fuck Connor a day or so after games to relieve the extra tension, and now, I can’t do that.
Tightening my grip, I stroke harder. My just loosened muscles tense again as I chase the orgasm. A moan shakes my throat, and I fist my hand against the wall, stepping a little wider, working the full length harder and faster.
“Fuuuck,” I moan as water glides past my temples and over my cheeks. Pleasure shoots through me, quaking my body as I spill into my hand and the tile.
Within a second of the pleasure dissipating, my stomach knots. I shake my head and begin tapping the wall to locate the inbuilt shelf, snatching the body wash and wash cloth to scrub myself.
Running the towel over my hair to rid some of the water, I wrap it around my waist and move through my dark bedroom toward my floor lamp beside the curtain.
“Fuck, baby. That was hot.”
My heart leaps, and I jump. Reaching out a shaking hand, I tap the stand. The dull glow illuminates Rain sat on my bed, a white button down strangling his arms and black trousers loose against his toned thighs.
“Fucking perfect,” he groans.
I scan the bed for my phone. Gone… Great.
He leans back on his hands, cocking his head with that goddamn smirk.
“Brains are interesting, baby. When someone is distracted, they become less observant. I was sitting at your dining table, and you walked straight past. I bought you door handles that require either a fingerprint or code to unlock. I also got you a new camera with higher resolution, and one for your backyard, considering you back onto an empty lot.”
“What kind of shit are you into?”
His smirk morphs into a grin. “You want to know my kinks already?”
“N—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “Xander said Blade was attacked and stabbed.”
“Cut,” he corrects. “Stabbed implies a weapon was thrust inside someone to cause harm. Cut is—”
“I don’t give a fuck about the terminology, Rain!”
He groans, throwing his head back. “You sound so fucking good saying my name. And you’ve been a good boy. You haven’t seen that little shit.”
Fed up with this bullshit, I stalk toward him. A wide grin spreads across his face, and I swing my fist, wiping it off. His head throws sideways, and he laughs when I wrap my hand around his throat and squeeze, shoving him back onto the mattress and kneeling beside him.
“There he is,” he chokes, chocolate eyes melting as he stares up at me. “I like it rough.”
“Stay the fuck away from me, or I will have you killed,” I grit out, raising my knee, threatening to drive it into his balls.
“Dirty talk, I like it.” He grips my knee, throwing it sideways.
My hand slacks around his throat, and he rolls, pushing me over with him.
Landing between my legs, he grips my wrist and pins it to my side while prying the other from his throat.
I throw myself forward, which does nothing to the bloody twat as he rips my arms above my head.
My stomach rolls as his panted breaths skate across my lips.
“I just wanted to see you, baby. It’s been a rough few weeks. We can watch a movie or something. I know you must be sore from your game. Also, what happened? You were clear for that goal.”
Disappointment washes over me and I drift my gaze to the ceiling.
This idiot is part of the reason I’ve been so distracted. He’s really messed with me, and everything is crumbling tenfold, because I can’t seem to get a goddamn grip on myself.
“I fucked up. I…” I trail off, anger flaring again when I realise who I’m talking to. “Fuck off, Rain!”
“Baby,” he coos.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” I thrash, working every aching muscle trying to free myself, but he only settles more body weight onto me.
I still when his nose brushes mine, a smile playing in his eyes. “We don’t need to be in the public eye if that’s not what you want. I’ll be your dirty little secret.” His tongue darts out to flick my top lip, making me shake. “But I want to know every fucking part of you, Rome.”
He rubs himself against where my towel has moved in our struggle, now only covering half of my groin. “G-get off me,” I plead more than demand. Chills stab my arms when his thumbs stroke my wrists. “Please.”
A wicked smile tugs at his lips, and I draw a shaky breath, feeling his hands move. His long, strong fingers swiftly interlock with mine before I can fist my hands.
His grin softens, and I swear, this grown bloody man is kicking his feet. “Can we watch that movie? I’ll order whatever food you want.”
“No,” I bite.
“Yes.”
“Leave.”
“Baby.”
“Stop,” I growl.
He groans, eyes rolling back in his head as it drops beside mine. “That shit just turns me on. Unless you’re planning on using your hand or mouth or giving me access to your ass, I suggest you stop doing that.”
“I top,” I blurt out without even thinking.
Why did I say that? I don’t want to fuck this man, even if he did let me top.
I side glance the TV, searching for anything to get him off me. “Fine,” I agree, my voice shaky. “We’ll watch a movie.”
“You pick,” he chirps, placing a sloppy kiss on my right cheek. My dick twinges to life at the action. “Mmm,” he hums, the deep sound vibrating against my chest. “You claim you don’t want me on you, yet your cock suggests otherwise. And I have to say…” He nods between us. “I’m very impressed.”
“Off,” I command.
I finally get a lung full of air when he releases my hands and slides off me. I wrap the towel back around myself, stalking to my wardrobe.
Idiot. I curse out my dick in my head, flicking on the light, and watch his grinning face disappear as I slam the door shut.
Ripping the towel from my body, I pull on boxers, grey pants, and a white t-shirt, then slide my hand past the cashmere jumper on a hanger.
My stomach plummets when I’m met with nothing but a wall behind.
The metal hangers screech against the pole as I throw the items back.
My bat. Where the bloody hell is my bat?
Taking a deep breath, I gently open the door and step out.
“Looking for something?”
My heart jumps as I stumble backwards into the wall. Metal flicks in the light as he lifts the weapon. “You were going to beat me? That’s a little rude.”
“Get out,” I growl.
His expression changes from proudly condescending to extremely pissed off. “I told you,” he warns. I fist my trembling hands as he takes a step closer, pointing the bat at my face. “Don’t do that, Rome. I’m already so hard, it hurts, and you keep pushing me,” he finishes through his teeth.
I freeze, my body choosing stunned deer instead of fight or flight.
Why can’t I fight him like I did his brother?
Possibly it’s the knowledge there’s a hard metal object in his hands?
But unlike when Blade had me pinned to a car, I was very aware of the weapon in my possession.
Right now, I can’t think straight. I don’t think he would hurt me, but by the apparent rage in his corded body, I think it’s best I shut up.
He lowers the bat and my throat constricts as he steps eye to eye with me, engulfing me in his woodsy scent. “I don’t know why,” he says lowly, eyes searching mine, “but I jerked off today to the thought of your goddamn left eye.”
What the fuck? This bastard is sick.
“I haven’t come that hard since I fucked Alexa in the ass,” he adds.
I’ve learnt who Alexa is—his ex. He still has a few photos of them on his IG. One was prom, another was their high school graduation, a few others scattered throughout three years.
“I was protective of her,” he whispers. “But I want to kill anyone who comes near you.” He cocks his head, eyes scanning my face, like he can’t quite understand his own words. “Pick a movie, Rome.”