Rome glanced at the road and then back at her. “I guess I’d better get going. You should stay here so your brother doesn’t catch you.”
“At some point, he’s going to have to find out about us,” she said to him, and nipped at his fingers again. He had such sexy hands, she couldn’t resist.
“I know, but I don’t want anything to ruin my memories of this weekend,” he told her.
Her smile faltered. That struck her as an odd thing to say. “We could always tell him tomorrow?”
“We’ll talk about it,” he said, and caressed her cheek again, his gaze roaming her face as he continued to cup her cheek in the dark interior of the car. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
She felt her cheeks heat with pleasure, even though he couldn’t see her blush. “Repeatedly.”
“Then it can stand for one more time,” he murmured in a husky voice, leaning in. “Elise Markham, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I’m going to remember this weekend—and you—forever.”
Tears stung her eyes at the sweetness of his words. “I love you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m so glad I found you, Rome.”
He leaned in and kissed her mouth. “Me too, baby.” His hands tightened on her cheeks. “And I miss you already.”
She smiled at that. “I miss you already, too.”
Rome dragged her closer. “I need to taste you one more time before I let you go.” His hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer to him. Her rented Impala had a bench seat for the front seat, and she slid right into his arms, her legs tangling with his.
His mouth possessed hers, hungry and erotic. She opened for him, her mouth seeking his tongue. She loved kissing Rome, loved how his tongue and lips made her lose all sense of reality; when she kissed him, there was nothing but Rome’s scent, Rome’s taste, Rome’s touch in her world, and she loved it. The kiss grew hungrier and more intense, Rome’s mouth pressing so fervently on hers that she could feel the bite of his lip ring against her own mouth. His ferocity was surprising in its intensity, given that they’d spent all weekend making love, but she welcomed it. Her thighs clenched in response and she pushed her breasts against his chest, her nipples rubbing against his shirt.
“Need more than this,” he told her roughly. His long-lashed eyes were already sleepy with desire. “Want to have all of you. Right now.”
His hand went to the waist of her jeans, and she gasped when he undid the top button and slipped his hand inside, burrowing under her panties. She moaned a moment later when his fingers found her clit and he began to rub.
“Want to see you come for me,” he murmured in her ear. “One last time for the weekend.”
Her thighs gripped his hand as he began to rub in slow, sweet, maddening circles around her clit. In moments, she was wet with need, and he slicked a finger back and forth from her core to her clit, spreading the moisture.
“That’s my sweet Elise,” he murmured, and his mouth claimed hers again as he continued to rub her. “So damned delicious.”
She moaned against his mouth, clinging to his neck as he kissed her and his fingers worked on her clit. Her hips began to jerk in response, and she rocked against his hand, encouraging the motion of his fingers. A soft whimper escaped her throat and he groaned.
“That’s right,” he told her. “God, that’s so good. I love seeing you come.” His mouth tore away from hers and she leaned her head on his shoulder, lost in sensation.
“Rome,” she moaned. “You’re going to make me . . .”
“Good,” he said possessively, and he nipped at her ear. “Want you to look me in the eyes when you come, baby.”
She whimpered again, caught off guard by his erotic fierceness, and opened her eyes. He was gazing down at her in the darkness, and she moaned anew as his fingers continued to stroke and pet her clit as he watched her face, drinking in her reactions to his touch.
“I’m . . . I’m going to . . .” she panted, then began to rock her hips fiercely against his hand, her own pressing down on his fingers. The friction suddenly became intense, and she gave a little scream that was just as quickly swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her again. She came with a familiar rush of wetness, soaking her jeans and his hand all over again.
He groaned as if in pain. “I love that so much.”
Her heart skipped a beat for a moment, but then she gave a soft whimper, clinging to him as he tugged his fingers free of her now-wet panties and jeans. As she watched, he raised them to his mouth and licked them slowly, erotically. “Love your taste, Elise.”
“And now my jeans are all damp,” she chided him. But she couldn’t be mad. How could she be mad when he’d just given her a quick, delicious orgasm?
“Sorry, baby,” he said with another quick kiss. There was a pleased look on his face that told her he wasn’t all that sorry. “Had to have you one more time before I let you go.”
“You can have me all you want,” she told him, dragging a finger along the curve of his ear. “You just tell me the place and time and I’ll be there.”
He smiled at her and nodded. “Of course.” Then he gave her another fierce, quick kiss and grimaced. “I’d better go before someone investigates why this car is parked on the side of the road.”
She quickly slid over to the driver’s side again, squeezing her thighs together and enjoying the delicious aftershocks still reverberating through her legs. She looked over at him, and for a moment, her heart stuttered.
He looked so sad, so utterly lost in the darkness.
It surprised her, but she felt the same way. She didn’t want to leave his side, and the thought of being separated again made her ache. Maybe she’d go to his cabin and surprise him.
She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Text me tomorrow?”
“I will.” He gave her a brief smile and reached into the back seat, grabbing his backpack. Then he opened the car door, flashed her one last smile, and was gone.
• • •
Rome loped back to his cabin, half expecting to see his shit in a box on the porch. If Grant found out he’d stolen Elise away for the weekend, there’d be no saving his ass from the man’s wrath. But his bike was parked next to his cabin and when he opened the door, everything was as he’d left it. Not that he’d left much behind, just in case he’d been cleaned out when he came back. But there was a small box under the bed, and he tossed his few remaining items into it. Some toiletries. A book. His DVD of Lethal Weapon. He picked it up, thinking of Elise. He could still smell her on his hand, and for a moment, longing and bitterness filled him.
Life had just dealt him one shit hand after another, hadn’t it? The moment he found a girl he loved, he was being chased off all over again.
He tucked the DVD into the box and considered. He could go to Elise tonight. Tell her about his past. Confess that he’d done hard time and swear up and down that despite what the records said, he wasn’t the one who was dealing drugs. That despite his bad rap and awful credit, he really wasn’t using her for her money, and he loved her. That her brother was going to fire him from his stable job and he’d taken her away over the weekend despite her brother’s warnings to him.
And then it could go two ways.
If she didn’t believe him, he wouldn’t blame her. Most people didn’t. They took one look at his tattoos and piercings and his prison record and assumed he was guilty of whatever crime the paperwork said. She’d hate him for deceiving her and would assume he’d manipulated her and slept with her just to try and get to her money. Her self-esteem, always fragile, would be completely and utterly destroyed.
If she did believe him, no one else would. They’d assume that Elise was naive and with him because he was using her for her money. Grant would never believe otherwise, and he suspected Elise’s overprotective parents would be the same. Staying with him would create a schism in her family. The people she loved the most in the world, the people she trusted, would think she was stupid and bei
ng used.
He either destroyed his girl or destroyed her relationship with her family.
He didn’t want to do either. Family was important to him, oddly enough. Maybe it was because of how shitty his own was, but when he saw how much Grant cared for his sister, how much he looked out for her, he didn’t want to trash that for his own selfish needs. How would his life have turned out if his brother Jericho hadn’t up and left when he got old enough? How would Rome’s story have been different if Jericho had stayed and looked out for him?
He probably wouldn’t have gone to prison for his parents. J had always been able to see right through their lies, but Rome always fell for them. He’d always wanted to believe the best about family.
That had been beaten out of him in the four years in prison, though.
Rome shook his head and tucked the DVD into the box. Either way, if he stayed, he was fucking up Elise’s life. Better to just make a clean break. It would hurt, but over time, it would get easier.
He hoped.
He rubbed his chest, wondering at the ache there. He’d never been in love before. Never really thought about it. There’d been a few women in his life, but most were just diversions instead of people.
Elise, though . . . Elise was everything to him.
He picked through the cabin, looking for any personal items he might have missed. He was lingering, he knew it. Hell, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to turn around and call Elise and tell her to come back over. That he’d changed his mind. He picked up the small plastic plate she’d brought over when she’d showed up with the cookies and hit on him. He’d eaten the cookies, but he’d kept the plate. Stupid, really, but seeing it reminded him of her, and he packed it away carefully in his backpack, sandwiched between a few shirts. And suddenly, he wished that he had mementos from all of their get-togethers. That he’d stolen a candle from their sultry photo shoot, or taken a book of matches from their hotel this weekend.
That he’d pulled out his cell phone and snapped pictures of her gorgeous face and that shy smile so he could always carry them with him.
He put on his leather jacket, picked up his small box, and headed out of his cabin for the last time. He’d miss this place . . . but he’d miss one person in particular the most.
Rome texted her brother to let him know he was packing up and heading out, strapped the box on the back of his bike, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading onto the highway.
Heading for fuck knew where. He didn’t care.
• • •
Elise rolled over in bed, feeling delicious and well-rested. It was nice to get a full night’s rest after a weekend of too little sleep, she supposed, but it also felt weird to wake up in bed alone. She smiled into her pillows and reached for the nightstand to pick up her phone, hoping for a text from Rome.
The only texts on her phone were from family, though.
Having a good time in Bluebonnet, sweetie? When are you coming home? XOXO from her mother.
Your mother misses you. Expect her to start asking you to come home, but if you’re not ready, stay a bit longer. Love you, bunny, from her father.
And from Grant, Hey, bit of a snag today. Can we put off the engagement photos for a week or two? Kinda have my head down with work.
Even as she was checking messages, one came in from Brenna. Your brother’s being a dick and is all stressypants. If you come by, can you bring lunch or something? I’ll take some cash out of his wallet and pay you back. We are totally slammed. :) I like my burger with no onions!!
Wow. It sounded like a crazy day over at the ranch. She immediately texted Rome. Hope you’re hanging in there today. Want me to bring you lunch? :)
She hoped it wasn’t too forward, but heck, they’d had sex all weekend and he’d dragged her into his arms in the car because he didn’t want to leave her. She figured she could be a little needy in her texting.
But when there was no immediate response, she figured he was busy. Disappointed, she sat up in bed and started sending texts back.
Hi Mom, I am having a good time. Going to stay a bit longer.
Her mom immediately sent back How much longer? Be careful.
Not for the first time, Elise felt a little smothered by her mother’s attention. Be careful of what? Farmers driving tractors two miles above the speed limit? Armadillos crossing the road? She was a grown woman, graduated from college and in her twenties. She could take care of herself, especially in a sleepy little town like Bluebonnet. She knew her mother meant well, but still.
So she thought for a moment and sent back, Thinking about opening up a photography studio here. Gonna wait until Beth Ann gets back from her honeymoon and discuss a joint business venture. :)
Oh, sweetie, that’s great! Her mother sent back. I’m so proud of you! Let me know if you need anything from your daddy and me.
Will do. Love you!
As she sent back the message, she realized it wasn’t a total lie. There was a place down on Main Street not too far from Beth Ann’s hair salon that had recently come up for lease. It was a cute little cubby of a storefront, but she wouldn’t need much for a studio, just some clients. And if Beth Ann was interested in doing the retro shoots, that’d be the perfect lead-in, along with weddings and parties. She began to get excited just thinking about it.
And if she stayed in Bluebonnet, she could stay close to Rome . . .
Not that he was the reason she was staying, of course. But having a sexy guy around certainly helped her lean in that direction. Even if things didn’t work out with them, though, she rather thought she’d like to have a studio. Set up a little darkroom in the back, maybe. It’d be cozy and so much fun to have a place to call her own. And rent in Bluebonnet was a lot cheaper than most places.
It was a great plan, she had to admit. For the first time since she’d been rejected by Crissy’s magazine, she felt excited about her career. She couldn’t wait to pull out the photos of Rome and go through them.
Yawning, she texted her dad a happy note along the same lines, and then texted Brenna. Will bring lunch. Burgers it is. How many should I bring?
Five meals, Brenna sent back. You’re the best!
Elise counted on her hand. There was Pop, Grant, Brenna, Dane, and Rome. And herself, of course. Which meant . . . six? Unless Dane was still out in the field today. Maybe Brenna had counted wrong? She decided to pick up an extra meal, just in case.
She dressed in jeans and a pullover, and dragged her messy hair into a ponytail. Just as she was slipping on her shoes, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.
She clicked over and her heart stuttered. It was from Rome, and it was long. Excited, she began to read . . . and then her stomach sank as she continued.
Elise, baby. I’m sorry. This is going to hurt your feelings, but I’m going to throw it all out there anyhow. I can’t stay in Bluebonnet. It’s nothing you did. Actually, god, you’re pretty much perfect in every way. It’s me and I’m the wrong kind of guy for you, and I feel like you’d regret being with me at some point. So I’m going to cut my losses now. I don’t ever want you to think that it was you who drove me away, though. I meant it when I said you were the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re way too good for someone like me, no matter what you think. That hasn’t changed a bit, and I’m going to remember every detail of this weekend for the rest of my life, right down to that little shiver you do when I kiss your neck. You were utterly and completely perfect. It’s me that’s the problem, and so I’m going. And since I’m not into good-byes, this is it from me. I hope life treats you well.
Stunned, she stared at the screen of her phone, tears blurring her vision.
Maybe . . . maybe she’d read it wrong. She scanned the message again, slowing down and going over each word deliberately in case she’d misunderstood.
And then she read it a third time.
I hope life treats you well.
You’re way too good for someone like me.
He was breaking u
p with her.
Now? After their beautiful weekend? After last night’s frantic petting session in the car when he’d held her and said he had to have her one last time?
Oh god. He’d been planning on breaking up with her even last night. That was what he’d meant!
Frantic, Elise tried calling his phone. There was no way he was breaking up with her over text, was he? She deserved at least a phone call, didn’t she?
But it rang several times and then went to voice mail. Then it clicked over. The caller you are dialing does not have a voice message box established—
She hung up.
He was dumping her.
Elise lay back in the bed, stunned. She felt like she was breaking into a million pieces. Hurt tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them away. She didn’t understand.
He’d nailed her and bailed on her. Should she be angry?
All she felt was . . . confused.
This past weekend had been wonderful. They’d had sex and he’d been so incredibly tender with her. He’d even offered to wait if she wasn’t ready. That . . . didn’t sound like a man that wanted to nail and bail. Moreover, they’d spent so much time together leading up to that first night of sex that she’d thought he genuinely enjoyed being around her. They’d dated. They’d flirted. They’d cuddled and slept together.
Why spend so much time enticing her into his bed if he planned on kicking her out of it afterward?
She frowned up at the ceiling. He hadn’t even hit on her, actually. She’d come on to him.
It was yet another thing that didn’t make sense. If he didn’t want to be with her, why hadn’t he just turned her down?
She read his message again, trying to decipher between the lines.
I can’t stay in Bluebonnet.
I’m the wrong guy for you.
It almost sounded like he was apologizing for dumping her. But . . . he’d known ahead of time that he was leaving. So why be so incredibly, wonderfully attentive this weekend? He’d paid for everything, too. She’d tried to buy meals and the hotel room, but he’d insisted on “paying for his girl.”
He’d made her feel like his girl.
The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving Page 21
