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Sweet Home (Sweet Home 1)

Page 53

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“How dare I? How dare I want something for myself, after they’d so selflessly taken me in? Taken me in and reminded me every minute of every f**kin’ day that I was the product of a paid f**k. Beat me until I couldn’t even hold a football, let alone throw one—if you’re injured, you can’t play, right? So my daddy made it a frequent thing, a father-son weekly tradition.”

“N-no one helped you? Figured it out?” I asked through my tight throat.

He laughed darkly. “Who’s gonna take on a powerful billionaire and question why his kid flinches whenever someone touches him?”

I sniffed and tried to soothe the acrid burning in my lungs. Romeo’s entire tough-guy persona was disintegrating before my very eyes.

“Then to make it worse, their failure of a child is expected to enter the draft for NFL, twice, and was forced to say no, to sacrifice his dreams just in case people found out he’s not really Kathryn Prince’s biological pride and joy. The mass of skeletons must be locked up real tight!”

Romeo stood before me, arms wide and humiliation evident in his stance. “So there you go, Mol. That’s why my parents hate me and why my bein’ with you has just added to their already mountain-high disappointment of their beloved f**kin’ son.”

I stepped forward cautiously, righting his collar with my trembling hands. “That’s why everyone calls you Rome, not Romeo… why you hate it so much. It reminds you of your past.”

He watched my every action with timid eyes. “Yeah, my birth momma said if they didn’t keep Romeo, she’d go to the media, expose the story, and they couldn’t have that, so they agreed… reluctantly. Had her sign some contract to keep quiet.” He laughed without humour. “What the hell kinda name is Romeo for the prized son of the wealthiest family in Alabama? My folks always called me Rome in public, but in private, I was Romeo. They used it as a taunt and curse. Romeo the whore’s son, Romeo the non-returnable bad gift—and they never, ever let me forget it.”

I pressed kiss after tender kiss to his lower throat. “Where did she go, your birth mother?”

“Probably back to whatever hole she crawled out of.”

“Romeo, I—”

I watched his face contort as he pushed me back out of his arms. “You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you? I knew I’d lose you. I just knew it. Who’s gonna put up with my parents’ shit? I’m not worth everythin’ they’ll put you through if we stay together, am I?” The grief was heavy on his features and he slumped on the old brown sofa that was placed in front of a grimy unlit fire. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and his wide shoulders shook from the force of the heavy sobs. I’d never seen him cry.

It nearly killed me.

I joined him on the sofa and wrapped him in my arms while he cried with his head on my lap. I cried with him. I cried for the little boy who didn’t know love. I cried for the little boy who’d lost his childhood, and I cried for the man who had so much to offer the world, but had been held back by the unyielding bonds of his abusive and manipulative parents.

When he’d calmed to quiet weeps, I gathered Romeo’s face in my hands and forced him to look at me. “Romeo—”

“I love you… I love you,” he whispered over and over, eyes wide and frantic, the pads of his thumbs smoothing over the dampened apples of my cheeks.

“W-what?” My heart leapt to my throat.

Romeo shifted position and scrambled to his knees, pulling me to him as he fell back, laying me on top of him. “I love you. I love you beyond anythin’ I could’ve ever imagine was possible.”

I careened forwards, my chest smooth against his, our two hearts beating a maddening rhythm and confessed, “I love you, too, babe. I love you so, so much.”

His distressed eyes widened. “Baby, you do? Even after—”

“I’m not going anywhere. I came in here to tell you that. I was in the truck, listening to you hurting, and I knew that I had to be with you no matter what, tell you that I’m never going to leave you.”

“But my parents…”

“Yes, your parents tonight were something else, but they won’t ever chase me from you, from loving you. We’re star-crossed, Romeo. Interfering parents come as part of the package.” I winked jokingly.

A tentative smile drifted onto his bruised lips, the action transforming his troubled face. “I feel stripped bare right now… like someone has ripped open my chest and all you’re seein’ is a mangled heart held together by jagged scars.”

I pulled apart his shirt, button by button, and kissed along the path of his heart. He expelled a groan and I pressed my lips against the hot, bronzed skin.

“No one has ever known what they’re really like behind closed doors. I’ve never told a soul. You were a big ol’ brick through their glass fortress tonight. I could see the panic in my daddy’s eyes. You could destroy everythin’ they’ve worked so hard for.”

I traced the outline of the tattoo on his ribs. “As bad as that was, I’m glad I was there, that I now know what you cope with. We can’t erase the secrets and marred memories of our pasts, but we can build the next chapter of our lives together.”

Silent tears fell on his cheeks. “Mol…”

“Shh…” I laid kisses along his sternum, onto his torso, lapping over the hard peaks and into the deep valleys. I pushed the open shirt away completely and unfastened the top of his slacks. I risked a glance at Romeo and his eyes were burning, savagely glowing as he glared down at my seductive act, his dark irises untamed and wild.

The stiff zipper came down easily, along with his boxers, and I stroked along the summit of his thighs. I needed him more than air.

Seeing him bared before me made my mouth water. I edged forwards, delicately licking along his length, and Romeo’s head snapped back on a roar.

That was all the encouragement I needed.

I took him in my mouth and his hips soared, his hand finding purchase at the back of my head as he pounded his pelvis back and forth. I felt empowered. I felt in charge, and I loved how I was bringing him to his knees.

“Fuck, Mol. Your mouth!” he hissed, and I hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations affecting the pace of his thrusts. I hooked the waistband of his jeans with my fingers and pulled them off his muscly legs, dropping them to the floor, only to bend down once more to rain wet kisses down his muscly thighs and calves. I engulfed his hardness again in my mouth, my teeth scraping his skin from root to tip. He groaned and stilled, wrapping my hair around his fists.



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