Sweet Rome (Sweet Home) (17 page)

“Okay. Just answer one thing. Was it your parents?” she asked carefully, snapping me back to the here and now.

“Yes,” I finally admitted.

She squeezed me tighter around the waist for a few seconds, then moved back and peered out the window, no more questions about my folks.

“Why are we here?” Her eyebrows drew together as she took in the sprawling mall.

Getting out of the truck and helping Molly down, I said, “We’re getting you some new glasses. Come on.”

I tried to set off toward the ophthalmologist, but she dug in her heels and jerked me to a halt. Staring me down with steely resolve, she blurted, “Romeo, I can’t afford them yet.”

This wasn’t happening! Meeting her determined gaze, I repeated, “I’m getting them. Now come on!” She stood rooted to the spot, and I began to lose it again. I wanted to help her, dammit, but her stubborn ass was being all proud and shit. I just wanted to look after her—what was a few hundred bucks to make her life infinitely easier at school?

“Romeo, I’m not a charity. I’ll get my own bloody glasses when I’ve saved up enough money. You won’t buy them for me. I won’t let you. Being poor doesn’t embarrass me—taking pity money does!”

I groaned and pulled her to me, loving the way lust blossomed in her eyes every time her body met mine. “Molly, don’t fuckin’ push me on this. I indirectly broke the damn glasses with my bad pass. I riled up Shelly by showing everyone that I liked you, and I let her ego get too inflated by putting up with her queen-of-all-Bama shit for the last three years. I’m getting you new glasses and you’re going to let me. You don’t have a fuckin’ choice. It’s not about embarrassment; it’s about protecting what’s mine.” Her pupils dilated as she stared up at me. Yeah, she may be pissed at my pushy tone, but I wouldn’t back down. She was mine and I wouldn’t let her be called out for anything… by anyone.

Molly went all quiet but never flinched from my gaze. We were glaring, both refusing to submit. Groaning in exasperation, I grabbed her hair in my hands, leaned in, and asked harshly, “You get me?”

Golden eyes widened slightly at my aggressive move and, with a gentle shake of her head, followed by an amused smile, she whispered, “I get you.”

Damn right she did.

Fucking Molly Shakespeare, giving in and relinquishing the control, giving me what I needed, what I craved. Fuck. Me. I wanted her so damn much it was painful.

Feeling a weird burst of something in my chest, I kissed her head and led her into the mall.

14

“My God, Rome, it’s amazing,” Molly whispered as she surveyed my hidden spot with the biggest fucking smile on her face. Thanks to her new contact lenses, I could see how brightly her eyes were sparkling, and her happy, beautiful face was taking my damn breath away.

Taking her hand, I led her down to the creek. This place was my haven, the only spot where no one bothered me. My folks owned acres of land but never set foot on most of it. I’d never shared this place with anyone before, never had the urge. I did now though. Molly needed to see this place; something within me just knew she’d love it.

“Okay, now you seriously have to tell me where we are. It’s possibly the prettiest place on Earth,” she said as we sat under the large oak beside the water.

Here goes nothing.
With a deep sigh, I said, “It’s the creek at the back of my parents’ place.”

Her brows furrowed. “Your parents’ place?” I watched her throat take a huge swallow and apprehension shaded her features.

Craning her neck, she checked out every direction, every seemingly never-ending field. “They own all of this?” Her voice had weakened, and I could see that the realization of my family’s wealth was hitting home.

Praying she didn’t let this revelation change anything, I lay back, reluctantly admitting, “It’s a plantation, Mol.”

Her huge eyes were almost comical. “Plantation? Your parents own an entire plantation?”

My folks didn’t even friggin’ use it right—as a farm—they just wanted the biggest damn lot in Tuscaloosa. Total showboating.

Glancing back up at Mol, I could see her gaze was nervous as she checked out the surroundings.

Laughing slightly, I assured her. “Relax, they won’t know we’re even here. I come here all the time. It’s where I get away from it all.”

She tilted her head, staring at me with a disbelieving look.

“What?”

“This. You. A plantation. We’re from completely different worlds.” Catching the flicker of doubt in those brown eyes, I grabbed her hand, kissing it, and said, “This isn’t me, believe me. If only you knew… All this belongs to my parents, not me. I’m just the same me and you’re just you—Romeo and Molly Juliet.”

The smile tugging on those damn full lips almost had me tackling her to the floor. “Come here,” I demanded, pulling her to lie on the grass beside me. A giggle escaped her mouth as I did so. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face.

Fuck, she was amazing.

Without thinking it through, I blurted, “I can’t believe how beautiful you look with those lenses in. Your eyes are the strangest golden color… I’m having to try real hard to stop myself from touching you the way I want to.”

That damn thumb of hers went to her mouth and I growled low in my throat, my cock springing to life. We were alone; I wanted her, the need to take her how I wanted—under my terms—beginning to take hold. She’d fucked one guy in her life and, by her own admission, didn’t like it. And my style—when it came to sex—well, it wasn’t exactly all romantic gestures and loving caresses. I was scared shitless that showing her that side of me could ruin it all.

And then eight words from her mouth made me snap. “You can touch me if you want to.”

Sucking in a breath, like I’d just took a slam in my solar plexus, I warned, “Don’t play with fire, Shakespeare. It’s too much for a pretty little English girl to cope with.”

A shy grin spread across her lips. Christ! I was holding on by a damn thin thread, and by the look of things, she knew it. “What can I say…?” she replied playfully. “I’m a risk taker.”

“Mol…” I warned again through painfully clenched teeth. Eyes hooded with lust, my girl lifted onto all fours and began crawling toward me—the geek long gone and a fucking sex kitten taking her place.

She had one last chance to back away before I really let her have it. “Mol…” I cautioned one last time, but she didn’t stop, and when she kneeled before me, the smell of vanilla made me lose all sanity. I gripped her bare thigh, never breaking eye contact, and smoothed my hand farther up the skin, right up until my fingers ran along the line of her panties.

Molly’s warm breath panted quickly through pursed lips and, leaning down, she brushed them against my mouth. It was too soft, too little contact, but I let her set the pace. She was still pretty inexperienced and I didn’t want to come on too strong. But when her hand moved down my stomach, tucked into my jeans, and almost brushed the tip of my cock, I fucking lost it—the time for chivalry and patience was long gone. I was going to make her come, watch her guard fall down, and enjoy every damn second.

Gripping the flesh of her thighs, I spread her across my crotch, her tits pressed right against my chest, my hand wrapped tightly around the back of her neck. My mouth smashed furiously against hers and, taking advantage of her position, I ground my hard dick right between her legs, letting my desire override anything else.

Massaging the soft flesh of her breast in my hand, I pressed farther against her mouth, then moved my hand to her pussy, and hearing her moan out load in desperation for my touch drove me crazy. She was more than liking what I was giving her, how I was giving it to her… doing it the way I needed it to be.

“Romeo…” She moaned in aroused frustration, those newly exposed eyes rolling as I ghosted my finger against her cotton-covered clit.

“Mol… I… I…” I wanted to tell her how I was feeling, but I was fighting against a lifelong-scarred blockage in my throat.

“Please…” she moaned again, pressing herself hard against my hand.

“Mol… God… you’re making me fuckin’ crazy…” I hissed out, biting into her exposed shoulder, trying to calm down.

“Rome… now!” she demanded, which just plain ol’ pissed me off.

Taking her by surprise, I ripped her panties aside and brought her mouth to mine, shutting her the hell up, and impaled her tight hole with my finger. I worked her back and forth, feeling the heat build and the tightness of her inner walls clench.

I broke away from her, and she stared at me, couldn’t take those eyes off me. “Don’t ever tell me what to do,” I said firmly.

Crooking my fingers just right, I skimmed the pad of my middle finger across that soft spot I knew would make her scream, teasing her, making her want more. “Do you hear me?” I barked again, the need to control my girl taking over every cell in my body. At this point, I’d gone too far to hide the real me.

“Yes. Yes,” she moaned, pushing down harder on my finger,

Fuck. She was perfect, a natural fit—openly receptive to my roughness. I’d never allowed myself to be like this with any of my random fucks, was never sober enough to care enough to try. But right here, right now, it was everything—full and utter disclosure of who I was.

My attention was fixed on Molly’s every sigh, every contraction of her hot center, and the flush covering every inch of her bare, tanned skin. Then those eyes opened and, licking and biting her bottom lip, her hand crept down to my jeans. My cock twitched at the thought of her hand wrapped around the base, stroking the tip, but I froze and croaked painfully, “Mol, no, you don’t—” My words lodged in my throat as her soft hand folded around my dick and gently began to stroke it up and down.

Shit. It felt too good to make her stop.

“Let me take care of you. Let me give you what you need. Please…” she begged, still rolling her damn hips against my hand.

Meeting her eyes, I was lost, blinded by her. There were no sounds apart from our ragged breaths and moans amongst the miles of rural cropland, and nothing else registered but the fucking insane pleasure we were giving each other. Actually, that was a lie. I was feeling a ton, probably too much to be revealed to my girl right now. I’d never felt anything this real before, and I needed time to digest it myself.

“Ah, Romeo… I…” Molly rode me faster, her pussy clamping down as I focused on her G-spot with my fingers and her clit simultaneously.

She was burning hot. By her rock-hard nipples, flushed face, and heavy eyes, I knew she was about to come, hard. “Let go, Mol… fuckin’ let go,” I instructed, and with one more thrust, she cried out loudly. I wanted to devour her screams so I smashed her lips to mine, her hand unrelenting on my cock as she hit her peak.

At the sight of her letting go, my balls tightened and, quickly lifting Mol, I rolled my hips to the side, groaning as streams of cum spread onto the grass beside me. She slowly moved her hand, but I didn’t withdraw my finger from within her, wasn’t ready to. I didn’t want this addicting feeling to end.

The reality of what just happened between us sank in. Mol leaned forward and I kissed and nipped at her damp skin. My finger gently stroked against her clit, her breath hitching when it all became too much, too sensitive.

Leaning back from the safety of my embrace, she smiled shyly. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Hey, Mol,” I whispered, my hand raking through a loose piece of hair in front of her face.

“Hey, you,” she murmured back, but she was giving nothing away. In fact, she was being
too
shy. I instantly began to panic that I’d been too rough, too aggressive for her.

Fuck, was she hurt?

“You okay?” I asked tersely, every muscle fiber tensed for her response.

Her caramel eyes focused on the ground and shame surged through me—I knew the way I was—no holds barred—was pretty fucked up, probably too much for someone like Molly to understand.

But then she spoke, almost knocking me to the floor in shock. “More than okay.”

“Look at me,” I snapped out immediately. And fuck, she did… Right away.

Searching her eyes, I asked, “You liked that? You liked how I spoke to you, how I ordered you?”

She met my intense stare but didn’t say a damn word. Shifting in nerves, I demanded again, “Mol, you did like it… didn’t you?”

Fuck. The thought of losing her crushed me, my voice catching with emotion.

Stroking a finger down my face, her expression filled with affection, she whispered, “I did, Romeo. I-I didn’t know that I’d like it… like that… but… I think we both know I did.”

Muscles stretched, lips spread, and I knew I was fucking smiling—hell, not smiling, beaming. Needing another chance to touch her, I gripped her hands, waggling my brows, and ran them down my ribs. A questioning smile tugged at her lips.

“Are they all there?” I asked, loving feeling this free—light enough to joke, watching her lips purse in confusion, not following my meaning.

“What?”

“My ribs. Is there one missing?”

Careening forward and holding my waist, she muttered in amusement, “Okay, I think you’ve lost it. You think you’re missing a rib?”

“Just thought God took one of mine when he made you.” I knew that sounded lame, but fuck, I sucked at romance, and a girl like my Mol, well, she should have the best said to her, the most romantic words written about her. I didn’t have that in me, couldn’t give her what she deserved… but I was fortunate enough that she wanted me regardless, and
finally
, all them damn years at Sunday School were coming in useful. Hell, the way I was feeling right now, I’d stand dead center in Bryant-Denny and spout fucking poetry if it made her smile.

“Romeo, at times you’re really sweet, you know that?”

Sweet? Fine, I’d take that. “Only for you.”

Molly took my hand in hers and, pressing lazy kisses on my palm, got lost in her thoughts. Her eyes glazed with worry and she licked along her bottom lip.

Something was definitely up.

“What you thinking?”

“When you say you like to order, just how far does that need to dominate go?” she blurted, her face flushing red with either nerves or embarrassment. I wasn’t sure.