by Tillie Cole
Shrugging, I replied, “Barged in to speak to Mol the other day and kind of wrestled her off the stairs when she tried to outmuscle me.”
Austin just shook his head, laughing. “I swear Rome, you sure know how to treat women. If they’re not spreading wide for your moody ass, they’re trying to kick it!”
“Carillo, fuck off.”
As we waited for the girls, Jimmy-Don launched into a story about one of his brothers back in Texas who was into racing monster trucks. He was talking animatedly about a flip when Reece began tapping me on my arm. Shrugging him off, I turned my attention back to Jimmy-Don, trying to figure how the hell he moved the story on to cow tipping back in high school, but Reece didn’t quit, and after a few seconds, I was ready to knock the little fucker out.
Swinging around, I asked, “What? Fuck, man, back off!” But Reece just pointed up the staircase, ignoring my attitude, mouth gaping open.
Looking up, I quickly registered what had him, and Austin—and now Jimmy-Don—gawking. Molly. My Mol looking like a friggin’ supermodel walking down the stairs.
Pushing away from the wall, I shouldered Reece out of my way, ignoring the way his tongue was practically hanging out of his mouth at the sight of my girl.
Ally winked at me as she passed, but I only had eyes for Shakespeare: tight black dress showing her unreal curves, her long brown hair falling in soft curls over her shoulders, and her nervously flushed face looking so damn beautiful that it nearly made me drop to my knees.
Reaching out, I wrapped my arms around her waist, fighting the worst case of blue balls I’d ever had. Pressing a kiss to her full lips, I whispered, for her ears only, “Fuck, Mol, you’re trying my restraint looking this beautiful. How the hell am I meant to get through the night? I’ll be fighting off the guys with a stick. They’re going to get in trouble if they even look at you for a second.”
It was true; up until now I hadn’t really had to worry about other guys watching Mol. She’d always slipped under their radar. But hell, she was beyond a friggin’ ten as she stood before me now—she always had been to me, but now the world would see it. I wasn’t sure I could stand other guys looking at her and imagining they were between her legs. It was going to drive me insane, no matter how much she assured me that she was mine and mine alone.
Tonight would be a test, that’s for sure.
We sat down in one of Club Flux’s private booths and ordered drinks from a blond waitress who looked vaguely familiar. I’d been right about tonight being a test—I’d already gained Molly’s disapproval for nearly punching out an overeager Tide fan who’d grabbed her to congratulate her on her kiss. She’d forgiven me, but who knew how long that would last.
The blonde came back with our drinks, smiling suggestively at me, and the memory started to resurface.
It was last season, maybe after the Iron Bowl against Auburn? I’d been drunk out of my mind when she’d made her move, sitting on my lap as I almost lost consciousness on my chair, then leading me to the back of the club. I’d fucked her from behind, her face pressed against the wall, so I didn’t have to see who I was screwing. It’d never mattered; a hole was a hole. But with Mol, she’d be looking straight in my eyes and I’d savor every damn second.
As I shook the memory from my mind, I focused back on the waitress. Ah, hell. By the look on the blonde’s face, this wasn’t going to go down well.
Molly had stiffened in my arms, and I tried to ignore the chick as she did everything but strip before me. Then she gave up trying to get my attention and finally said, “Hey, Bullet, how’ve you been?”
How’ve I been? I didn’t even know the damn girl.
“We’re done here,” I said.
The rush of a challenge lit in the waitress’ eyes, and Molly began to fidget. Ally subtly booted me under the table, and Austin rubbed at his eyes in frustration at where this was clearly heading. The two of them were just pissing me off more; I didn’t need to be reminded that this was going to be real a clusterfuck of a situation.
“You never called me after our night together,” the blonde said, and I knew that was it. Molly’s first night in a club and boom, some cheap fuck tries to mark me as her territory. If roles were reversed, I’d have killed the fucker by now—as it was, I wasn’t exactly sure how jealous Molly could get. I couldn’t work out how she would take all this crap.
“I was never going to. I’ll say it again… We’re done here. Or if you need a simpler answer… fuck off,” I growled.
Her mouth tightened and she spat, “I’d heard on the grapevine that you were pussy whipped—fucking waste of a good cock.” She looked at Mol, taking in her natural curves and stunning face, and curled her lip. “And for that too. She must screw better than she wears that shitty dress.” I caught Molly’s sharp intake of breath. I knew she thought she didn’t measure up to others, and that comment had hurt her.
Mol jumped out of my arms and snapped at me, which was a first. Her reaction set me to reeling mad, but before I could call her on it, she bolted to the restroom… She’d fucking run.
“Hell, Rome! You’d better go fix this!” Ally shouted, shooting daggers at me across the table.
“You fucked that waitress? Shit, can you set me up?” I glared at Reece, fighting the urge to launch him across the room. Tact, man, the kid had no tact or sense of damn timing.
“Go, Bullet, before I hit you again!” Cass pushed on my arm, and I shot up from my seat, nearly turning the bastard thing over, pounding through the crowd of dancers to get Molly the hell back.
I spotted her ahead of me. The blond waitress was standing at the bar, watching me run with a bitter smile on her face. Stupid bitch, she’d done all that on purpose, and it’d worked.
Reaching out, I grabbed Molly’s arm, only to have her wrench it back, her golden eyes furious and filled with hurt. Fuck, it was the first time I’d earned that look from her, and I completely panicked. She looked… resolved… like her mind was made up on something.
No! She couldn’t…
Beyond frustrated, I took her arm, dragged her with me like some fucking caveman, and locked us both in a dusty old closet.
Molly was panting, her fists clenched in anger. She didn’t look like she was in the mood to be placated, so I just spat it out, “I fucked her once. Last year. There was nothing more to it. You don’t need to be upset by it, and you certainly don’t need to fuckin’ run away.”
By the way she froze, nose turning up in disgust, I realized I’d fucked up… again. “Well, excuse me if I don’t enjoy your exploits flaunting their slutty selves in front of my face!”
I could feel myself getting madder. How the fuck was that my fault? I’d tried to brush her off; Molly had seen that. How could I help it if she wouldn’t take no for an answer?
Closing in, watching Molly freeze in anticipation, I shouted, “You want to know all about my sexual past, all the sordid details? Fine! I’ve fucked a lot of girls, in many different ways, in many different places. They’d throw themselves my way and I’d give them what they wanted, and they’d fuckin’ love it.” I was pumped with too much adrenalin and knew I was being an ass, but when Mol’s eyes blazed and she smacked me across the face, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
She’d fucking hit me! Molly, my timid little Mol, had cracked me right across the fucking face. Guess I’d found her breaking point.
“Did that feel good? Have you got it out of your system now?” I said coldly.
Molly instantly cried out, covering her mouth with shaky hands as tears fell down her cheeks. She was disgusted with herself. I could see that much.
Seeing her so sad had me backing away to the other wall, croaking, “They fucked Bullet. They only ever fucked Bullet…”
Sniffing and wiping frantically at her eyes, she whispered, “Nice, Rome. Real nice. Is that what you’ll do to me? Let me fuck the great Bullet Prince, give me what I want, and move on?”
God! What else did I have to do to prove she was differe
nt? We’d done plenty in bed but hadn’t gone all the way. I respected her and didn’t want her to feel used. I could see the conflict on her face, that look urging me to power forward and say, “Not at all, Shakespeare, but hear this. I’m going to fuck you, but I’m also going to make love to you. I’m going to own every goddamn piece of your soul, and I’m never going to let you go. You’re going to scream my name over and over until it’s permanently lodged in your friggin’ throat. You’re not going to be just a fuck to me, Mol—you’re going to be my fuckin’ salvation!”
She already was. She was making my life better day by day. How could she not know that?
Molly couldn’t meet my eyes, and the way she’d closed herself off was making me nervous as all hell. “Baby,” I said almost inaudibly as she closed her eyes in anguish. “You’ll make love to me—Romeo—not some pathetic fucking football alter ego. You’ll get the real me, all of me, forever and ever. Is that clear enough for you?” She still didn’t say anything, and a foreboding lump blocked my throat.
Pressing her forehead to mine, I tried to keep my voice low and calm. “Christ, Mol! I’ve never done this before. If I’d known you were out there waiting for me, I wouldn’t have fucked all those chicks. But I can’t take it back.”
She sagged against my chest and looked up, completely defeated, running a finger down my cheek. “It’s all too much, isn’t it? Your family obviously hates me, Shelly won’t back off, you turn on anyone who even looks at me, and these… girls you’ve had in the past seem not to be able to let go. I have my own issues, Rome—you know this—and piled with yours… it’s just too much. How can we possibly work under all this stress?”
No, no, no, no…
“Don’t. Don’t do that!” I begged her in panic.
“Do what?” she said, unfeeling, numb even, as she focused on the floor, dejected, unable to even meet my eyes.
“Write us off. Don’t run away when it gets tough.” I needed her to look at me, dammit, so I forced her head up, gripping her chin. “You fight your past problems. I’ll learn to control my anger. We fight back against my family. We ignore all the others. We get through this! Don’t you dare quit on me now, Shakespeare. Don’t you fuckin’ dare!”
“Rome—” she whispered, sounding completely heartbroken.
For the first time in years, I actually thought I was going to break down. The fierceness of how much I needed my girl was surprising even me. “No! I won’t let you go. I know I’m all kinds of wrong for you, but you’ve changed me. You’ve fucking changed me! Can’t you see that? You’re going to face this with me. Say it! Please, baby, say it to me!”
She wasn’t running. I wouldn’t let her. She’d promised me. Looking her dead in the eye, I insisted frantically, “Say you get me, Mol?”
“Rome, I—” Her choked cry cut her words.
I was so confused by her rejection. I knew she wanted me, maybe even close to loving me, but she wasn’t fighting for us and it pissed me off so fucking bad, causing me to slam my fist against the metal rack behind her, the tall contraption swinging as I shouted, “You’re not running. YOU GET ME?”
“YES! YES, I FUCKING GET YOU!” she yelled back, her palms hitting my chest before gripping onto my plaid shirt and pulling me back in close, the heavy sound of our breath like friggin’ thunder.
My hands drifted to hold her neck as I asked carefully, “You’re still in?”
Golden eyes dilated and, wrapping a leg around my hip, she began to grind against my cock. “I’m still in.”
Feeling the building heat between her legs, lust assaulted my body, instantly forgetting all the angry tension, and I croaked, “Fuck, I want you so bad. You doing everything I say makes me hard as fuck.”
Dipping my hand lower, I pushed her panties aside and felt along her soaking center. “Mol… Christ. You’re killing me.” She was so wet and ready.
Her teeth and tongue licked and bit along my neck, ear, and jaw, only stopping to admit, “I like it when you lead, when you assert your authority. It turns me on.”
She was really fucking killing me. My cock felt like it would explode any minute if I didn’t get inside her once and for all.
“Fuck… I can tell, and I like that you submit. It… calms me. You’re what I need. Damn, you’re perfect for me. Beautiful, sexy as all hell, with a body that makes painters weep.”
Her head rolled back as I pushed two fingers inside her. “There’ll be no one else. For the first time ever, you’re giving me what I want, what I need. You give me full control, and I love it. You do too, don’t you? You fucking love it…?” Her pussy began to clench, over and over, and her breathy moans increased in pace against my neck.
Snapping her eyes back on mine, she lowered her hands and began to tear at the fly of my jeans. Fuck that, I wanted my full attention on her face as she came. If she touched me, I’d explode. “Off! Let go. Now. This is not about me. You won’t touch me unless I say so.”
I worked her until she stiffened and ground against my hand, screaming in release. I held her as her body jerked and her breathing returned to normal. Then I asked her if we were okay and confessed how much I wanted her… needed her.
“I want you, Romeo. You give me something I didn’t even know I needed too.” And just like that, I had my girl back.
After a few silent seconds, she bit her lip, then asked if I thought we were wrong. I knew the way I controlled during sex could be seen as fucked up, but it was just some drive I had and, Christ, my girl told me she loved it. I couldn’t believe that someone so right had been made for me, that we’d found each other in such an unlikely way. She was my equal in every sense.
Fixing her dress, Molly held out her hand, wanting to go and dance. Personally, I just wanted to go home and fuck her into the mattress, but we needed to stay. My girl needed to get back to her first real night out.
I was about to follow her to the dance floor, when she said, “I want to dance, show all your past conquests that you’re mine.” With that, I lost all the control I’d been fighting so hard to keep.
Slamming her back against my chest, I gripped her ass and wrapped those long legs around my waist, demanding she say it again.
With her shocked face now breaking into a sweet smile, she said, “You are mine now, just you for you.”
I thrust her against the wall. The time for waiting was done. Lowering my hand, I pulled out my cock and began guiding it between her legs, inches away from finally possessing my girl completely. And that’s when a jumped-up little shit of a manager began pounding on the door, demanding that we leave.
I was murdering mad and so damn desperate to finally take Mol that I was almost blind with need.
Groaning in frustration, I dropped my head onto her shoulder, the scent of her calming me down, as it always did. Molly giggled lightly, reaching down to tuck my hard dick back into my jeans, stroking it teasingly, and whispered, “Let’s go, baby. Let’s actually have our date.”
Finding some inner friggin’ chi I didn’t know I had, I instructed, “You go out there and fuckin’ show everyone we’re together. You own this… us. Time to be bold, baby. Bring the fuckin’ rain.”
And she did, she never let go of my hand, dismissing the stupid blond bitch from earlier, and led me to the dance floor, completely proud to be on my arm.
I’d never been so damn happy as I was watching her relax and let loose.
A few hours later, Molly stopped dancing, her hands creeping up my torso, and stared up at me with a strange expression on her face.
“You okay?” I asked, cupping her cheeks.
She shook her head. Panic swelled once more, and I asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I want to go home.”
“Are you sick? Is something wrong?” Her eyes had glazed and she was red hot to the touch. I worried it was a fever; she was acting so weird.
“What is it? Tell me,” I demanded, my patience quickly fading.
She took a shaky breath and r
eplied, “I want you to take me home and put me to bed.”
“Okay, are you tired? It’s still pretty early.”
A small smile curved her lips and, rubbing up against my crotch, she leaned into my ear. “I want you to put me to bed… get in beside me… and make love to me.”
Spinning her around and pressing her against the wall, I asked, “Are you serious?”
Golden eyes fixed on mine with determination. “Deadly.”
Was she drunk? She’d had a hell of a lot of tequila. Sanity broke through for a second, urging me to declare, “I don’t want you to do anything you ain’t ready for. You’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to regret us in the morning.”
“I’m not so drunk that my feelings are untrue. I want you, Romeo, no regrets.”
Thank. Fuck.
“Then beg me,” I ordered, all my inhibitions gone. She knew me; she got me. I didn’t have to be afraid to be myself.
I could see that I had thrown her. “I told you I’d take you only when you begged me, when you wanted me like no other. If you’re at that point, Mol, you have to prove it to me. You have to beg.” Her eyes widened with lust. This was us, how we should be—me in control, her giving in to my instructions.
“Romeo Prince, I want you to take me to bed, I want you to undress me slowly, and I want you to make me completely yours. Please, Romeo, make love to me… tonight.”
Exactly fifteen minutes later, Molly stood before me in her room, breathless with anticipation, and I knew that after tonight, taking this last step, we would never be the same.
19
“Walk toward the bed and take off the boots.” Turning, Mol did exactly as I ordered, rewarding me with a view of her full ass in her tight black dress as she bent down, shucking off her boots.
“Turn around and face me.”
