Sweet Home (Page 21)

We resorted back to silence. Romeo was still glowering down at me as though he were going to tear me in two with his bare hands and kept me cornered with his bulking frame. I tried to move around him when he grabbed my arm in his large hand. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

I exhaled slowly. “I’m leaving. I’m done with this… done with us and whatever the hell just happened.”

I tried to shuffle past him a second time when he growled, “You’re f**kin’ drivin’ me insane, Shakespeare!” He wrapped his free hand around the back of my neck, pulling me forward until his lips found their intended target against mine.

He wasn’t kind, careful, or considerate. He was taking what he wanted, no thought for me, and I loved it, loved that he took complete control and mastered my body.

I dropped my books to the floor along with any lingering inhibitions and my hands were no longer able to do anything but grip onto his shirt and hold on for the ride.

On a moan, he twisted me in his arms and pushed me against the wall, slamming my back against the hard cement, letting me feel his arousal against my stomach. His tongue wrestled with mine, and he drew out all of my latent need with every wet lash.

With an exasperated sigh, he broke us apart, his tan skin a scolding temperature to the touch. “Fuck, Mol, why can’t I get you outta my head? You’re all I f**kin’ think about and I don’t know how to deal.”

“You do?” I rasped.

His wild eyes fixed on mine. “Every minute. Of. Every. Day.”

Rome stepped back, giving me much needed space from his stifling presence. I needed to leave; I couldn’t think straight. I bent to get my books and when I straightened, Rome stood with his hands behind his head, unbridled hunger in his dark eyes.

He licked his bottom lip ever so slowly and I wished more than anything that I was the plump piece of flesh. “I don’t know what to do about you. It’s rattlin’ me and I don’t like it. I’ve never gotten like this over some girl.” He tipped his head, assessing. “But I don’t think you’re just some girl. I’ve thought that from the minute I saw you all flustered in the hall on the first day of classes. Christ, I’ve haven’t been able to taste anythin’ but you since we kissed at the damn initiation.” The dark flame that fuelled his already midnight eyes almost made me whimper with longing.

So I did what I do best when I can’t cope with a situation.

“I-I n-need to get to the library.” I rushed out in a nervous stammer and dashed for the exit. I was shaking and confused, angry, but so unbelievably turned on. I was worried by my apparent fondness for his assertiveness. On top of everything that had happened between us, that bothered me the most.

As I was opening the doors to fresh air, I risked a glance back.

Big mistake.

Romeo stood in the centre of the hallway, watching me with corded, folded arms.

I slapped on the handle when his hard voice rendered me immobile. “This is far from over, Shakespeare… far from f**kin’ over!”

I panicked again at the immediate rush of lust that built within me and picked up my pace, deciding to ditch the library and go straight home. I was on the verge of collapsing, and I needed the sanctuary of my room.

He hadn’t slept with Shelly. I was all he thought about, and I couldn’t help but feel a ripple of happiness swell through my heart for the first time in years.

5

I’d been lying awake for four hours watching the shadows from the pine trees dance across the ceiling. This marked the fifth night in a row. I was sleep deprived, frustrated, and so friggin’ confused that I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t sleep, and quite frankly, couldn’t function. Root cause—Romeo “Bullet” Prince.

He’d been away again all week with the Tide in Arkansas, and left straight after our little corridor throwdown, leaving me completely in a tizz about where we stood with one another. It didn’t help that I’d seen pictures of other members of the team making out with girls in seedy nightclubs and frat parties post-match that had been posted on Facebook for the entire world to see, and when I thought of Rome doing the same thing, I felt sick.

Giving up on sleep, I threw back my quilt and walked into the bathroom, stepping into the shower, letting the warm water wake me up.

It didn’t work.

I dropped my head against the cold tile, sighing. I didn’t know what I would do when I saw him again. Ally had told me that the team was due back today, so I’d decided to hide in the one place a superstar jock definitely wouldn’t be—the library.