He backed me into a dark, secluded corner. “Why do you care who I f**k? What’s it to you?”
I glared at him, remaining silent for several seconds before hissing, “It isn’t anything to me.”
He sneered in anger and slammed his flat palm against the wall above me. “You’re lyin’.”
I felt as though my stomach was on fire with enmity, fists balling against my books. “I’m not lying. It has nothing to do with me who you f**k, as you so eloquently put it!”
Rome moved his face an inch closer. “Bullshit! I don’t f**kin’ believe you!” I pushed at his chest with one hand; he didn’t budge.
“I said I don’t believe you! Tell me why the f**k you care and don’t f**kin’ lie!” he thundered again.
He’d completely blocked any exit and I released an exasperated moan. “Fine! I care because you kissed me! You kissed me like you had no other choice, damnit! I don’t like being just another plaything when I trusted you with me. I never do that and now I remember exactly why!”
His hard chest scraped achingly against mine and his lips parted, expelling sharp controlled bursts of hot breath. “For your information, I didn’t screw her. In fact, I told her in no uncertain terms that I was done for good. What you’d said to me made sense… about livin’ my own life. You got through to me. You… affected me. And get this straight… you are no one’s plaything, Shakespeare. I may f**k around, but I wouldn’t f**k around on you.”
I opened my mouth to speak when he pressed his index finger over my lips, his eyes tight in warning. “You’re brave, Shakespeare, speakin’ to me like this. I don’t… tolerate it from anyone. People ‘round here know not to approach me. They have the sense to leave things alone.”
I knocked his hand away, narrowing my eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
He smiled darkly and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to punch him in the face or submit my body to his control and see what came next.
“Not threatenin’, Shakespeare, commendin’. I’m findin’ you and that mouth of yours a real turn-on. But I’m more interested in teachin’ you how to keep it shut.”
My heart jolted and heat spread between my thighs. I fought my traitorous reaction with everything I had. “Save that kind of talk for when you screw Shelly again.”
“I told you I didn’t f**kin’ touch her!”
“That’s not what she’s been saying.”
“I could care less what she says. I thought you were different, Mol. Why make a dig about Shelly or football after what I’d told you about things I was goin’ through?” He actually seemed genuinely disappointed in me.
Guilt and doubt crept into my chest, and I rubbed my throbbing temple. “Look, I’m just in a crappy mood. I shouldn’t have come at you like that and I apologise for betraying your confidence. It was bad manners on my part. I was pissed off at you, have been pissed off at you for days. I don’t know how to be around you. You… confuse me.”
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 ran.
“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.