Sweet Rome (Sweet Home 1.5)

“If you say so,” she delivered with an equally patronizing tone.

She was serious. I’m guessing you could throw a pigskin at her head and she wouldn’t recognize it. “Shit, you really know nothing about football, do you?”

“Nope. And no offense, I don’t want to either. It doesn’t interest me. Sports and I don’t mix.” Shit. Would’ve thought knowing the Tide would have been a requirement to even step foot in the state. Obviously not. I wondered what the hell British folks did for fun.

“I like that you know nothing about football. It’ll be a change, talking to someone about something other than the new blitz defense or spread formation.”

“Eh…?”

“I love that you have no clue what I’m talking about.” I shifted closer, feeling the heat off her smooth skin.

“Happy to be of service,” she said with a bewildered smile.

It felt freeing, speaking to someone new. She didn’t know who I was, didn’t understand the level of my sport or who my parents were, and it felt insanely good. I relaxed, completely chilled the hell out for the first time in months, and reached for another couple of beers, flicking off the tops against the table, and started talking, determined to find out more.

“So, Shakespeare, what’s your deal? I take it you’re a brainiac if you’re already on your master’s and been Professor Ross’s research assistant for the last couple of years. In fact, you must be f**kin’ unreal for her to bring you all the way to Bama with her?”

“Err, yeah. Something along those lines.”

“You don’t like to talk about how great you are in school, do you?” Modest too. I’d won the f**king lottery.

“Not really. It gets embarrassing, talking about being good at something. Anyone who enjoys that kind of attention, I think, is weird.”

“Then that’s something we have in common.” The phrase “putting the pu**y up on a pedestal” came to mind, but I couldn’t believe she was this good, and I was still waiting for some kind of fault in her, something to make me walk away.

“Well, that and our Elizabethan epic playwright names,” she teased, and I watched as her gaze darted down to our touching arms, a bright-red blush covering her entire face and chest. I tried to not focus too much on that area.

“That too,” I replied with a reluctant smile.

And then Shelly piped up from the lawn. “Rome? Rome? Has anyone seen Rome? Where’d he go?”

That bastard girl was going to end me. She slaps me, then comes looking for me to f**k her. Crazy. As. Shit. I suddenly remembered why I avoided nights like tonight.

Molly abruptly launched herself from her chair, the whites of her eyes shining bright in the twilight, her breathing shallow. “You going somewhere?” I asked immediately.

I watched as she moved to the balcony rail, peering over the top. She was going try and split. Fuck that. She was staying. I wanted her to stay with me. To feel this connection for a little while longer, even if it could just be for tonight.

“Are you not going to go to her? She’s pretty wasted by the looks of things.”

“Am I f**k! She can just want. She’ll sleep it off with some other guy,” I threw out bluntly, kicking the chair she’d been occupying her way, pointing for her to sit down. “Sit your ass back down, Shakespeare, and have another beer with your most famously tragic character. You’re not leaving me yet.” For a moment, I thought I’d gone too far, my abrupt insistence too much, too soon.

But she surprised me again, rolling those golden browns and joking, “If I don’t stop drinking soon, I’ll be the one tottering around the lawn. You want me shouting for you, too?” She’d scatter if she knew just how much. Her letting me take control of her tight body, coming at my every move.

She watched my tongue lap around my lip and I watched hers in return. And there it was, that chemistry I’d felt earlier, the pull, the draw. “It’s sounding more tempting by the second,” I said quietly, my hard c**k becoming painful in my jeans.

Her eyes darted back toward the backyard. I’d gone too far, needed to change the direction of the conversation. “So you’ve joined a sorority?”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, and Ally wants me to move into the main house, with Lexi and Cass, of course. It’s not exactly my thing, but I’m trying my best to embrace college life.”

Ally? What the hell was she up to?

“You and Ally been speaking?”

“Yeah. After you left… the room… earlier… after the… erm…”

“Kiss.” It was all I could think about, taking that mouth again, tasting her again… tasting her all over.

“Err, yeah. Well, Shelly screamed at me to leave and Ally fought in my corner and basically told Shelly to bugger off.”

Okay. Now I was thankful my cousin stepped in. I could imagine Ally verbally knocking Shelly down. “She’s not exactly Shel’s biggest fan. Al’s cool. She’ll be a good friend for you to have around here. She’s my cousin and best friend. Hence, I got the spare key for this room when it gets too crazy out there.”

“She seems nice.”

“She’s the best.” Molly smiled and nodded.

“So, Shakespeare, where you from in England? Don’t you dare say Stratford-upon-Avon or I’m checking myself into an insane asylum.”