ROME
Chapter twenty-two
Ire-read the text I’ve been staring at all day, contemplating how to tell this prick he needs to stay the hell away from my house now that I have Indie and Kilah with me…temporarily? Permanently? Until they’re eighteen? I don’t know yet.
Sitting on the couch, I watch the twins move around the kitchen and bicker while making dinner. They wanted to do it as a thank you for letting them stay. We’ll see how it turns out.
I close my eyes, blow out a breath, and begin typing.
Me: I have my sisters here for the foreseeable future. DO NOT come here again.
He doesn’t seem as unhinged as his brother, but there are still some distasteful qualities about him. His lack of manners and barging into my house being number one, his utter relentlessness a high second.
He can have his money, car, and ring back. My sisters’ safety and comfort are my main priorities.
My heart jumps when my phone vibrates.
Rain: Like fuck I’m not! I’ve missed you, baby. My first stop is your bed. Besides, Kilah already loves me.
Me: That’s not true. PLEASE don’t come here.
Rain: Are you begging, baby?
Me: If I say yes, will you stay away?
Rain: Absolutely not. I’m still waiting for that video.
Me: You won’t be getting it.
I should have refrained from sending him that photo.
I should refrain from ever replying to another message again.
I hate that he’s got under my skin so easily, that I find my thoughts drifting to him.
I fight it, but for some blasphemous reason, his grinning face returns, and I need to put in effort to push it away again.
I’m starved of what I want, and that’s the only reason he’s taken up residency in my brain.
He has qualities that aren’t overly repulsive, his entire physique being one and the fact that he helped my sister simply from asking, but his father has meddled in my career, and what little privacy I had at home has been taken over by this goddamn twat.
I ignore my phone buzzing. Once. Twice.
I head upstairs, strip off my clothes, and step into the shower. I haven’t studied game play, done my proper stretching, or even opened my binder today. My sisters and my career are what come first, in that order. He’ll be rid from my mind with a little willpower.
I suck in a startled breath when I roll a little on the sinking mattress.
Before my groggy brain can wake, soft lips capture mine, and my heart skips.
I pull my head back into the pillow, but they follow, sucking on my bottom lip.
Trying to force my brain from its half sleep state, I shove my hands against damp fabric, the hard planes of his chest taut beneath my fingertips.
A deep groan makes me stiffen as weight settles over my body, his lips finally detaching. My chest heaves with a mixture of surprise, fear, and anger.
“Get out,” I rasp.
The dull moonlight spills in, glinting off the raindrops glistening in his hair. “No.”
“I won’t ask again.”
“Please do,” he taunts. “I want to see if you’ll use that bat.”
I rip my arm up, only for it to be caught and pinned back down. “Pl-please.”
“Get on your knees and ask me.”
Bloody hell.
I throw my weight forward, but his knees settle on either side of me, pinning me under the covers. My senses are now fully awake, and I smell it. “Do you smoke?”
“I’m trying to quit. I came straight from the airstrip because I needed to see my King. I’m sorry, I should’ve showered before I came.”
My King? Did he seriously just call me that?
“How did you get in? I changed the pin,” I whisper.
“I’m the master. I receive a text when the pin is changed.”
Of course he does.
His head lowers again and I turn mine away, forcing his lips to land on my embarrassingly hot cheek.
“I’ll go shower,” he chirps.
I wait for him to remove himself before pulling back the blanket to throw myself out of bed. “Get. Out,” I growl.
His silhouette stops in the doorway. “I told you what that does to me, Rome.”
I tap my lamp, and my outstretched hand freezes. It’s gone. My phone’s gone. Again.
“Looking for something?” he taunts, now leaning against the door frame with that condescending grin.
“My sisters are here.”
He shrugs. “I didn’t wake them. I even turned off the television.”
I step eye to eye with him. “I don’t want you—” He grips my hard dick painfully, making me eat my words.
One kiss. That’s all it takes for him to get me hard. It’s embarrassing, and I loathe that he has this effect on me.
His eyes narrow. “I swear to God, this better be because of me.”
I grip his wrist. “I was having a nice dream, actually.”
His hand moves so quickly to my neck, I startle, the temporary stillness allowing him to shove me back against the opposite door frame. I reach out, wrapping my hand around his throat. His warm, damp skin slides beneath my squeezing fingers.
Feeling the pulse in my neck, I taunt, “About Connor.”
He snarls.
Idiot, Rome. Why taunt this bloody twat?
His breath fans my lips, and I instinctively tighten my grip.
“Tell me you’re lying,” he whispers so quietly, I barely make out his words through the blood thudding in my ears. “Or he won’t live to see morning.” I try to tell myself he wouldn’t, but the enraged darkness in his eyes confirms he’s not lying. I shake my head. “I said. Tell. Me.”
“I’m lying,” I rasp. His hand unwraps one finger at a time and I let mine fall, sucking in a deep breath. “I want my phone.”
He grips his groin. “Come get it.”
“Are you serious? You really are a prick.”
“Prick,” he mocks, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light. “It sounds cute when you say it.”
Reaching back, he pulls the black shirt over his head, revealing his large, toned chest, the veins on his biceps and forearms flowing to the ones protruding on his hands. They move to undo his belt, and I drop my gaze to the floor as shame rolls through my stomach.
“Don’t do that,” he snaps.
“What?”
“Act like you don’t like what you see because your parents have made you feel like shit for finding men attractive.”
“Give. Me. My. Phone.”
I dart my gaze past his hard dick to his eyes that crease with playful lines when I snatch my phone.
“Call the police. There’s an undercover just down the street,” he chuckles, walking across the room to start the shower.
“Why did something…” I trail off when that patronising smirk emerges. They’re paid by him; I call the police, and they’ll come to the door, only to be shooed away by him.
Bloody wanker.
No wonder I’ve felt eyes on me since he left. If it’s not his father keeping tabs on me, it’s someone else.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I narrow my eyes and fold my arms over my chest. “What exactly were you doing while you were gone?”
“Why?” His ass flexes as he steps under the running water, hands raking back his wet hair. “Were you worried?”
I try to appear unfazed by the toned muscles of his body and lift my gaze back to his as he turns to face me. “You were just gone a while. Is Alexa okay?”
“Ohhh, you were worried because I flew back for my ex.” He cleans the putrid smell off him and turns off the water, taking a towel. “Jealousy looks good on you, baby.”
“I’m not jealous, you twat.” I step back when he reaches for my face. “Leave.”
“No—and just so you know, I was made to go there to ensure Blade didn’t kidnap Alexa.” He smirks, once again looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. “That photo was hot.”
I swallow my nerves and point to the door. “Leave.”
“Unless you knock me out with that bat, I’m not leaving. I won’t try to fuck you. I just want to sleep beside you. It’s been a shit week.”
“No.”
“Unless you want to. I’ll suck you dry, just like I promised. Tonight. Tomorrow.”
Heat rises up my neck, and I give him my back, but he grips my shoulder. A flare of rage ignites in my chest and I fist my hand, swinging it around. Pain explodes in my hand when it collides with his jaw, and I swallow my heart when blood pours from his lip.
He laughs, wiping it with the back of his hand. “Decent.”
“I’ll do it again if you don’t leave.” I step back, fisting my hand as he closes the distance between us, holding out his hand. “Wh-what?”
“Give me your hand.”
“I’m fine.”
He lunges for me, wrapping an arm around my middle.
His warm, wet skin slides against my bare chest as he snatches my hand to inspect it.
I’m momentarily paralysed by his thumb grazing my knuckle, my eyes transfixed on the droplet sliding down his cheek until a streak of red moves in my periphery.
Blood trickles from his lip, gliding down his neck.
What are you doing, Rome?
I grip his shoulder and turn him to sit on the bed.
“Change your mind?” he teases.
“Your lip is bleeding.”
“Kiss it better?”
“No.”
My fingers slip from his, and I step into the bathroom to wet a cloth. Gently holding his chin, I lift his head and lightly wipe the blood from his neck.
“You care about me,” he croons.
“I do not.”
“You’re cleaning blood off me. That counts as caring.”
“I don’t care for however you’re interpreting this.”
He rolls his eyes, the cut stretching as he smiles, his hands wrapping around the backs of my thighs to pull me forward between his legs.
I sway and shoot my hand to his shoulder to steady myself.
Ignoring the pounding in my chest, I focus on cleaning his neck while his hands trail fire up and down the backs of my thighs.
“Do you want that massage?” he asks softly, like he wasn’t just threatening a man’s life not ten minutes ago.
“I get one tomorrow,” I mutter, pressing my thumb to his bottom lip to hold it in place while wiping the cut slowly. It stretches again. “Stop smiling.”
“Can’t help it,” he mumbles.
I should kick him down the stairs and force away the guilt of making him bleed, but that’s not me, and I refuse to allow my anger toward him change my kind nature.
“Why do you do that?” he asks quietly.
“What?”
“Act like you don’t want me around, but talk to me no problem through text? You can keep concocting excuses in your mind, but if you truly wanted nothing to do with me, you wouldn’t reply.”
My lips part as I pull the bloodstained cloth away.
He arches a brow, waiting for a reply or an excuse I can’t seem to conjure.
A text from anyone else doesn’t have my heart jumping.
Even if I was still seeing Connor, I doubt contact from Rain would elicit any less of a reaction.
Half of my brain is screaming to make him leave, to stop him from interfering in my life.
The other half is overflowing with curiosity about who he is, what he does, the true nature of his family.
I’m sure they’re questions I don’t want the answers to, though.
I was getting through the days, doing what I needed to. I was existing just fine before I caught his attention. Wasn’t I?
Fingers caress my waist, sending goosebumps across my skin.
I inhale sharply, refocusing, and realise my thumb is stroking his bottom lip.
Clearing my throat, I force myself to back away.
His fingers dig into my skin, yanking me forward as he lays back.
I shoot my elbow beside his head on the mattress to stop myself from crashing on top of him.
He smiles again, a little blood pooling in the corner of his lip. I press the cloth to the cut to stop any further bleeding. “I told you to stop smiling.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I…I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer, Rome.”
“It’s all I can give you.”
He releases a frustrated groan, gripping my ass tightly. “You have a nice ass.”
My breaths quicken at the feel of his dick pressed against mine.
He’s so…annoying, attractive, repulsive. He’s…fucking infuriating.
I pull the cloth away and push back when his fingers begin lightly stroking my ass. He groans like a goddamn child and stalks past me to flick on my wardrobe light.
“Wh—” I cut myself off and follow.
He reaches up to pull down the empty box that held my trophies when I moved. Dropping it to the floor, he places the lid aside and removes white boxers.
“You’ve put clothes here? In a box?” I snap.
“I didn’t want to take up shelf space.”
“Rain!”