Sweet Home (Sweet Home 1)

I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Yes, you did.”

His lip hooked into a smirk as his hand dropped to run over my backside. “Am I forgiven?”

My breath hitched and I placed my forehead against his. “I’m yours. Be calm.”

A wave of peace washed over his features and he nodded his head curtly before crashing his lips to mine, stealing a hard kiss.

We headed to the private table and joined our friends. Within minutes, a petite blond waitress arrived to take our drink orders. From the minute she arrived, she never took her green eyes off Rome. I’d come to expect it. He drew people to him—whether due to his good looks or whom he played for. But she was acting differently; she looked at him as if she knew him… intimately.

After we ordered several bottles of beer, and Rome’s apparent ignorance of the waitress’ constant attention, I relaxed and was finally able to survey the club. It was a mass of grinding, gyrating bodies and men enthusiastically swinging their female partners around the dance floor—I assumed that was two-stepping. It was all pretty entertaining.

Our drinks arrived and once again, the waitress lingered in front of Rome and this time I knew my suspicions were justified. He ignored her, prompting her to block our line of sight with her pert plastic br**sts and sing, “Hey, Bullet, how’ve you been?”

My eyebrows immediately pulled together and I swerved to Rome, who’d gone completely still.

“We’re done here,” he replied coldly.

The busty blonde, wearing an obscenely short black dress, leaned on the table, pushing her cle**age together with her bent arms, ignoring his dismissal. “You never called me after our night together.”

I stiffened and Romeo pressed me farther into his chest, anticipating correctly that I was about to flee from the uncomfortable scene. It was flee or act on the intense anger raging through my body.

“I was never goin’ to. I’ll say it again… We’re done here.” He leaned forward slightly. “Or if you need a simpler answer… fuck off.”

The girl’s face fell and she snapped. “I’d heard on the grapevine that you were pu**y whipped—fuckin’ waste of a good cock.” She looked down her nose at me and laughed. “And for that too. She must screw better than she wears that shitty dress.” She stood abruptly, swinging her curves, and cut her way through the crowd. My fists clenched tight, the tips of my nails digging into my palms.

Ally glared at Rome and she shook her head in disapproval. I didn’t dare look at anyone else. I wriggled loose from his arms. Romeo tried to grip onto me harder, but I managed to shuffle to the edge of the booth.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I blurted out.

Romeo edged forward, hard faced, and thundered, “Don’t you dare run, not after everythin’ you said.”

I shushed him to silence, which was met by a sharp twitch of his mouth. He wasn’t used to being shot down and I knew it annoyed him. “I’m going to the bathroom!” I snapped, and I watched his face ice over. His eyes narrowed at my sharp tone and I tossed my hair dismissively, not caring, and walked away.

I heard Ally shout, “Wait, Molly!” But I didn’t stop.

I’d almost reached the bathroom when someone clasped my hand tightly and pulled me behind them. I stubbornly stood stock-still, snagging back my arm, and Romeo whipped ‘round to fix me with his furious gaze.

Releasing an angry grunt and taking a tight hold of my hand again, he dragged me into an empty corridor, trying several doors to see if they were unlocked. When one swung open—a storage cupboard—he pulled me inside, flicking on the light, locked the door, and whirled to me, hands firmly on his hips.

“I f**ked her once. Last year. There was nothin’ more to it. You don’t need to be upset by it, and you certainly don’t need to f**kin’ run away.”

I glared at him. “Well, excuse me if I don’t enjoy your exploits flaunting their slutty selves in front of my face!”

Romeo’s nostrils flared and he stepped closer. “You want to know all about my sexual past, all the sordid details? Fine! I’ve f**ked a lot of girls, in many different ways, in many different places. They’d throw themselves my way and I’d give them what they wanted, and they’d f**kin’ love it.”

Before I knew what’d happened, I’d struck his face with my hand, the loud slap amplified by the tinny acoustics in the boxy room.

Blood scolded my veins, my chest pounded, and Rome turned a dark shade of purple.

“Did that feel good? Have you got it outta your system now?” he bit out, rubbing his hand along his cheek.

Tears swelled in my eyes. I didn’t mean to hit him, but no one had ever evoked such a reaction in me before. I was physically shaking with the sudden rush of adrenalin.

Romeo leaned against the opposite wall, lowering his head. “They f**ked Bullet. They only ever f**ked Bullet!”

My breath paused with hurt. “Nice, Rome. Real nice. Is that what you’ll do to me? Let me f**k the great Bullet Prince, give me what I want, and move on?!”

He stormed forward, forcing me back so my spine was flush against the cold steel shelves, his arms bracing me in a cage on either side. “Not at all, Shakespeare, but hear this. I’m gonna f**k you, but I’m also gonna make love to you. I’m gonna own every goddamn piece of your soul, and I’m never gonna let you go. You’re gonna scream my name over and over until it’s permanently lodged in your friggin’ throat. You’re not gonna be just a f**k to me, Mol—you’re gonna be my f**kin’ salvation!”

I swallowed as he placed his hand on my chin, urging me to look at him, to see him. “You’ll make love to me—Romeo—not some pathetic f**kin’ football alter ego. You’ll get the real me, all of me, forever and ever. Is that clear enough for you?” He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine. “Christ, Mol! I’ve never done this before. If I’d known you were out there waitin’ for me, I wouldn’t have f**ked all those chicks. But I can’t take it back.”

I slumped back against the rigid metal. “It’s all too much, isn’t it? Your family obviously hates me, Shelly won’t back off, you turn on anyone who even looks at me, and these… girls you’ve had in the past seem not to be able to let go. I have my own issues, Rome, you know this, and piled with yours… it’s just too much. How can we possibly work under all this stress?”