Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)

by Tillie Cole

  “Turn around and face me.”

  Christ, she was beautiful, meeting my eyes with hungry excitement, a small smile spreading over her lips.

  “Take off your dress… slowly.”

  Inch by inch, the black strapless dress revealed a toned, soft, tanned body, her lacy black underwear almost causing me to have a damn seizure. Then my gaze zeroed in on some tiny black script at the very top of her left hip. A tattoo?

  I had to touch her; my fingers were itching to feel that silky skin again. Moving to where she stood, I waited for her to meet my eyes, and she looked up shyly through those long black lashes, her long brown hair hanging low over her breasts. She was fucking… just… beyond.

  Dropping to my knees, I rubbed along the fine inking and remarked, “A tattoo, Shakespeare? You surprise me. You’ve never let me see this before.” I watched her swallow and her breath began to stutter, her anxiety taking hold. Grasping her hand tightly to stop the panic, I read, “So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground,” and kissed along her soft skin.

  “What’s this, baby? Why do these words take pride of place on this beautiful body?”

  Wrapping her fingers in my long hair, tears filling her eyes, she whispered, “It’s William Shakespeare, from one of his love sonnets, number seventy-five.”

  She wouldn’t tell me any more, no matter how hard I pushed, but I knew there was a deeper meaning to that story.

  After I had stripped her bare, Mol couldn’t open her eyes. I had no idea if it was nerves or fear. She was perfect to me, and there was absolutely no need for embarrassment, and it wasn’t something I would tolerate, not from her. She was too perfect to be insecure.

  Gripping her hair, I ordered, “Open.” I had to see those big golden eyes.

  But she couldn’t. Tugging on her hair even tighter, I said sternly, “Open. I won’t ask again.”

  She did, and all I saw was desperate need shining back at me.

  Crushing my lips to hers, I took her full breast in my hand, pinching at the nipple, fucking dying at the noises slipping from my girl’s throat. Picking her up, unable to wait anymore, I threw her on the bed and practically ripped off my clothes down to my boxers, my throbbing cock now completely controlling my mind.

  I pressed my skin to hers, rubbing, grinding, and loving every damn minute. This feeling was so different than ever before; it meant everything to me. My hands were frantic as I gorged on her tits, sucked on her nipples, and fingered her wet pussy until she arched off the bed, screaming.

  It was too much. I needed to be inside her, deep inside her—I’d never wanted anything more in my entire life.

  Staring at Molly, in a moment of pure friggin’ love, I pressed my head to hers. “I’m going to take you now. I’m going to show you what you mean to me, how much I want you, and show you that you’re mine. You get me, baby?”

  “I get you, Romeo,” she replied with that sweet damn smile that she reserved just for me.

  My smile, my girl… my fucking life.

  Standing, I stripped naked, watching as Molly’s eyes took me in, running her hands over her breasts, her thighs contracting in need. Moving over her once again, I locked her head within my arms, kissing her slowly, my cock twitching against her warmth. I stood to get a rubber when a small hand landed on my arm. “Romeo, what—”

  “Condom.” I pointed to my jeans on the floor.

  “I’m on the pill,” she said nervously.

  Fuck. She wanted me raw, skin on skin. She wanted me to come inside her and make her completely mine.

  “Baby…” I could barely speak, feeling halfway to insane, needing to have her moaning beneath me, clawing at the skin of my back, out of her mind with pleasure. I’d never ridden bareback before, but damn if it didn’t crazy turn me on at the thought of taking my girl that way.

  “Please…” she croaked, meeting my eyes. “Romeo,” she whispered, “I just want you, nothing in the way.”

  I was so done.

  In a second, I smothered Molly with my body, my dick seeking out her entrance.

  Almost shaking with nerves, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her full lips. Taking advantage of the distraction of our kiss, I pushed forward, slamming into her pussy to the hilt, throwing my head back, neck bulging with the strain of being wrapped inside her tight center.

  Expelling a long moan, Mol wrapped her legs around my waist, shifting as I pounded into her furiously, biting, scratching, and hissing, “Romeo… God… I can’t take it… It’s too much…”

  “Yes, you can, baby. You’ll love it. This is us; this is how we should always be.” Her eyes rolled back as I switched the angle of my thrusts and hit the spot that had her groaning, gripping my ass, and raking the fuck out of my back.

  She wasn’t coming yet. I wanted more.

  Taking back control, I pulled out, catching the shocked disappointment on her face. Smiling at her despairing frustration, I said, “Now I’m going to make you scream my name.”

  Pounding forward as hard as possible, we both screamed at the sensation and, closing my eyes, I murmured, “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

  My breathing was labored and I reached up with my free hand, gripping the headboard.

  “Grip my arms,” I growled into her neck.

  Molly did exactly what I said, and I lifted my chest, using all my strength to hold tight onto the post of the headboard and push harder, Mol’s satisfied cries and hard grasp on my biceps driving me even further.

  “Do you like it, baby? Do you like it this hard?”

  “Yes. Yes…” she cried as I tilted my hips, my pelvis now working against her clit, her golden eyes rolling back, and her tight pussy clenching so hard it felt like it would snap my cock.

  I was getting close, but so was Mol, and there was no way I wasn’t going to make her come first. I pushed harder, seeing her eyes widen and her cheeks flush—she was at the brink.

  “Let go, Mol. Let go now,” I ordered through gritted teeth, the fragile wood of the headboard almost splitting under my clenched fists.

  With a final shift of her hips, she threw back her head, screaming out as she came long and hard. Slamming into her rougher, unable to contain my own sounds, I felt the rush of pleasure, then closed my eyes and growled out a loud groan, my cum jetting inside her. My arms shook with the strain, and I let go of the headboard, wrapping my arms around my girl, tucking my head into her hair, rocking within her slowly, winding us both back down.

  Completely sated, I stared down at my girl beneath me, whispering, “Hey, Mol.”

  Blinding me with a smile, she replied, “Hey, you.”

  As that stark realization took hold of me, I confessed, “You’re everything I thought I could never have. Making love to you, it was… you know… beyond…”

  I couldn’t look at her and, like a damn coward, buried my face in her neck. I could be a possessive ass, but sharing my feelings wasn’t something I found easy. I wanted Molly to know, though; she deserved to know how much I adored her.

  Kissing my head and stroking my hair, she sighed. “Romeo… it was… beautiful.”

  We stayed that way for a while until it was necessary for me to move, and as I pulled out of her, she winced.

  “You sore?” I asked.

  “A little.”

  It made me damn proud that she was feeling where I’d just been, what we’d just done, and I told her so.

  To that she simply replied, “I’m glad you’re pleased with yourself.”

  After cleaning up, I returned to bed, smiling at Mol as she laid waiting for me back in bed. Sliding in beside her, I tucked her into my chest, combing out the knots in her hair with my fingers, her humming in response. I’d never had this, this happy after state of making love. It’d always been quick, rough and I’d roll over, ignoring whoever I’d just fucked, or even better, send them on home. But lying here, happily spent, with my girl beside me… Shit, it was incredible.

  �
�Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” I said quietly, becoming addicted to our new closeness and wanting to explore it more.

  I felt the instant panic seize her breath so I quickly took a hand, feeling her relax.

  “Like what?” she asked nervously.

  “Anything. Just something no one else knows. Some deep secret or fear that you have.”

  Lifting her head, she met my eyes and hers filled with water. I squeezed her hand in support as she whispered, “I get so lonely that at times I literally think it might kill me.”

  I was sure my heart stopped beating. I could handle my own shit, but hearing her sound so broken, so down, almost killed me.

  She never took her eyes from mine, smiling a watery smile. In an instant, I had her in my arms, kissing everywhere possible, every inch of skin. She was lonely. All the studying, the solitude, was a defense… just like me with my football.

  “Molly, baby, you’re breaking my fucking heart,” I said tightly, wondering how the hell an insensitive guy like me could take away her pain.

  “It’s true and I’ve never told anyone that until just now… until you. For me, it’s been the hardest thing. It’s amazing how loud the sound of silence can be screaming at you relentlessly, reminding you that you’re completely on your own in the world.”

  “Can I tell you something?” I said almost inaudibly, as if my mouth opened of its own accord and a part of my soul fought to get free.

  Bracing in anticipation, her breath held as I confessed, “I’m desperately lonely, too.”

  Relief and understanding flashed across her face and my girl crumpled in my arms, the floodgates bursting free and years of pent-up heartache making her almost inconsolable. I didn’t know if it was the sound of her breaking or seeing her so raw, but she forced me to face my own demons, and I let my own sadness leak through for the first time in years.

  Holding Molly tight, I said, “We don’t have to feel lonely anymore, baby. I have you and you me.”

  Shifting back, she wiped at her eyes, laughing, “This is crazy, Romeo. We’ve known each other for such a short space of time, yet I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life.”

  It may have been the wrong time to joke, but smirking, I said, “We’re star-crossed, Shakespeare. Fateful, star-crossed lovers. We have a lifetime to get to know each other, unlike our namesakes.” Dropping the humor, driven intention taking its place, I assured, “I’ll make sure we get our happily ever after…”

  She settled on my chest, her breathing evening out, when I asked, “That quote on your hip, tell me about it.”

  My request caused her pain—that much was clear—so holding her hand, I said, “I’ve got you, baby.”

  Taking a breath, she said, “My… my father quoted it in his suicide note. He used to say it to me at bedtime every night and I wanted something to remember him by, just so I can never forget him.”

  God. The hurt, the confusion was still thick in her voice. She wasn’t over it. Not at all, not even a little bit.

  “Is it from memory?”

  And then she explained the note, her father’s suicide note, his last words to his only daughter, and that he used to quote that sonnet to her every night. I was so out of my depth. I was a jock with anger issues—I had no idea how to handle the topic of suicide.

  “Would you like to read it?” she offered hopefully.

  “Why?” Shock and nerves stilled me.

  “Because no one but me and my grandma ever has. I’d like to share it with you. I find myself wanting to let you in more and more every day. It may help you understand some things… about me.”

  I reluctantly agreed. If it meant knowing more about my girl, I would be crazy not to do so.

  She got up from the bed, completely naked, and I watched as her round ass swayed to the closet, her reaching up to grab a box, and I almost groaned in pain.

  Christ, my woman was hot.

  Peeking over her shoulder, she laughed, “You’re incorrigible.”

  I was, and I couldn’t wait to be deep inside her once more. “Just so you know. I’m going to take you again tonight. Addicted, Shakespeare. I’m fuckin’ addicted.”

  Blushing, she reached the bed, leaning down, and pressed a kiss to my lips before handing over an old letter wrapped in a plastic. I began to read, completely engrossed in Molly’s daddy’s parting words.

  My little Molly-pops, this is the hardest letter I have ever had to write.

  Firstly, I want you to know that I have loved you more than any daddy has ever loved his little girl since the very beginning of time. You’re the apple of my eye and the best thing I have ever done in my whole life.

  I know that this is all too much for you to understand right now, but you will, in time. I want to explain why I have left you and I want you to know that it’s not because you did anything wrong.

  I have loved many people in my life, but the way I loved your mother was beyond anything I can explain. The day you were born was both the saddest and happiest day of my life. The happiest as I got you, but the saddest as I lost the other half of my soul.

  I was broken, Molly, and nobody but God could fix me.

  One day, my sweet girl, some lucky young man will come and help you understand the very meaning of love. He will sweep you off your feet and show you what it is to place your heart in someone else’s care and to willingly offer them the gift of your soul—and he will own it completely. Make sure he is worth the treasure of your heart and do everything in your power to protect what you have together.

  In the future, when you’re older and wiser, you may look back on my departure and have questions, insecurities, and blame me for abandoning you at such a young age—and for that I cannot offer anything that will give you peace. People may tell you I was selfish for leaving you behind, but I believe that it was more selfish to let you live with half a father.

  Since your mammy passed, I have lived a sad and lonely life, you and Grandma being the only light in my darkness. I want you to know that I am at peace now and in the happiest place I can imagine—in the arms of your mammy for eternity.

  Live life to the fullest, my darling girl, and one day, when God so wishes, I will be waiting to see you again at the gates of paradise, to once again have you jump into my open arms so I can twirl you around, tell you how pretty you are, and introduce you to your mother… who looks just like you.

  “So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.” ~ William Shakespeare

  I love you.

  Daddy X

  I didn’t move for the longest time, reading his words of love and sorrow over and over, abruptly realizing Mol was no longer at my side. Placing the letter down on the bedside table, I looked out to the balcony. She was wrapped in her black robe, just staring out into the night.

  She was so damn strong. She came across as this timid little brainiac, but fuck me, the shit she’d survived. She deserved a damn medal.

  She was incredible and I loved her beyond words.

  Holy Shit! I loved her… I was madly in love with Molly…

  Walking to the balcony, I brushed Molly’s long hair over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I turned her to face me. Her eyes immediately searched mine—guarded and scared—but all I wanted to do was kiss her, make love to her, show her she was mine and I wasn’t ever leaving her side. I would be different from everyone else she’d ever had in her life.

  As though she weighed no more than a feather, I picked her up, walking to her balcony table, watching her swallow nervously as I laid her down and untied her robe. I hadn’t bothered getting dressed since we’d made love, and smoothing a hand up her soft thigh, I held it around my waist and pushed into her without a word.

  I never broke from her gaze as I braced myself above her, thrusting into her slowly. I laid kisses all over her face and her neck, smoothing her damp hair from her face, along with the light tears she
shed the closer we got to release. Her eyes widened and I could feel she was close, so, pressing my forehead to hers with a final thrust, she broke apart, holding my face in her hands, taking me with her.

  I kissed her slowly as I came and, breathless, met her gaze, running my finger down her cheek. “Thank you for showing me the letter, baby. Thank you for trusting me with knowing your past.”

  She released a breath, almost as if she’d been holding it all this time, and smiled in relief. “Take me to bed, Romeo.”

  I did as she asked, where she immediately fell asleep, leaving me reliving our night over and over in disbelief until I too drifted off.

  20

  I knocked on my daddy’s office door, body tense and bracing for yet another fight. I hadn’t responded to any of his texts, emails, or voicemails over the last few weeks, hadn’t dared to. I wanted to keep Molly safe.

  As predicted, my momma hadn’t been in touch since our showdown at her guerrilla-style lunch at Lorenzo’s. Hell, the only damn reason I was here today at this fucking house of horrors was because my daddy had practically begged me… Well, that and morbid curiosity had won out. He’d never spoken to me in such a way before—so kind, so sincere—and I needed to know why he’d had a change in attitude. I prayed it was due to finally seeing reason over this marriage crap. Hell, I’d walk to the end of the earth to see that shit buried.

  “Come in!” Joseph Prince shouted from within his seat of power.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to see my daddy sitting behind his large mahogany desk, looking all kinds of strange as he tried to crack a smile my way. I actually checked around me to see if someone stood behind me, but the coast was clear—that painful-looking smile was directed at me.

  “Rome, please, sit.” My daddy gestured to the seat at his desk. For a while—it was seconds but felt like minutes—I just stared at him, unsure of his intentions. He was calm, collected; this was the face the rest of the world saw, not the extreme disciplinarian I’d always known him to be.

  “Rome, sit. I think we need to talk.” Moving slowly, in almost in a dreamlike state, I walked forward and sat down.