The party outside suddenly increased in volume and Luke Bryan’s deep voice pumped through the stereo at a deafening decibel count. Rome and I got up to check out the commotion from the balcony, watching a blanket of the drunken students dancing and making out in force.
Warm breath fanned past my ear and red-hot frissons trickled down my spine. Rome laid his chin on my shoulder, eyes fixed on the scene below, encasing me in a trap between his strong, tanned arms. “It’s gonna be all kinds a’ awkward climbin’ down your balcony into that mosh pit.”
My eyes widened and my pulse raced. “People will talk, Rome.”
He peppered kisses across my bare shoulder blade. I’d noticed since he’d arrived tonight, he was always touching me in some small way. “Then let ‘em talk. I don’t care.”
“But I do. I don’t want them to think I’m just another one of your floozies. I’m not like that.”
His arms tightened, indicating his anger. “They wouldn’t f**kin’ dare think that. I’d make sure of it.”
“Would you?”
His bulky arm snaked around my waist, drawing me to his chest, his mouth flush to my ear. “Don’t mistake yourself for one of the others, Mol. You’re much, much more. I’ll gladly convince anyone who thinks otherwise.”
“Why am I more? I don’t get it.”
“You just are. You somehow give me peace in my completely f**ked-up world. You get me; no one has before. It’s that simple.”
A burst of pure happiness directly hit my heart and I turned, my nose drifting across Romeo’s cheek. “You… you can stay here if you’d like. But… just to sleep, to avoid having to answer people’s questions.”
Rome’s teeth grazed my neck, nibbling at the skin, and he groaned. “Fuck, I’d like that, Mol, probably too damn much.”
Gripping my hand and walking backwards, Rome led me into my room. I closed the purple drapes and moved nervously towards my bed. I watched as he crossed his arms around his waist, pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed large black A on his left pectoral muscle. I recognised it as the sign for Alabama football. Heat spread between my legs and I shuffled on the mattress as I admired his bronzed skin and rippled muscles. His second inking was a beautiful calligraphy script running down his ribs on his right-hand side, too complex to read from a distance.My breathing turned shallow as his hands snapped open the top button of his low jeans, highlighting his hard stomach and his defined V. The heavy material dropped to the floor and Rome walked towards me, dressed only in his black boxer briefs—boxer briefs that highlighted his thick muscular thighs and the fact that he was fairly excited about our newfound closeness. A third tattoo lay on his hip, in the almost exact position I had mine. The large script read One Day. My curiosity was piqued.
Romeo reached the side of my bed and flipped back the lilac covers, causing my thighs to clench at the sheer need accosting my body. He climbed in and his scent hit me like a ton of bricks: sensual, fresh, and sexy as hell. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, unsure about how to proceed. He placed his arm around my waist and jerked me back. His skin felt red-hot against my back and the slow motion movement of his hips caused me to moan out loud.
Rome tucked his head into the spot below my ear. “We need to try and sleep or things will get outta control. I only have so much restraint.”
“O-okay,” I replied breathlessly, and I placed my glasses on the table beside me.
“Night, Shakespeare,” he murmured as his hand ran up and down my stomach.
“Night, Romeo.”
He huffed into my thick hair, causing a strand to drape over my chest. “I actually like the sound of my name on your lips. Somethin’ I never thought would happen. I think it’s the English accent. It sounds all proper, like the way Shakespeare intended. No one calls me Romeo, has ever called me Romeo. I don’t allow it. But weirdly, I like it when you do.”
I tried to turn, but his arms held me like a vise. I settled for kissing our intertwined hands instead, lilting, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d.”
Romeo exhaled a sharp hiss from his lips and his hips undulated between my thighs. “Don’t… please…”
“Why don’t you allow it?” I asked tentatively, pushing back against his movements.
“Long story.”
“We have time.”
“Not now,” he said with finality in his tone and a squeeze of his arms, his tongue grazing my skin as he rocked even closer.