As Rome looked up, I almost laughed at his reaction. He jumped from leaning against the wall and pushed through to the bottom of the stairs. As I walked down each step, I grew in confidence, and if the over-awed expression on Romeo’s face was any indication, I’d say that Ally’s plan had worked.
When I got to the bottom step, we were almost the same height. My thumbnail was gripped between my teeth as I squirmed under everyone’s silent attention.
Stealthily, Romeo’s hands reached forward, grasping my backside, and he jerked me to his hard body. Sparks of desire flew from his hot brown eyes. I knew in that instant that tonight would be a test to our control. My insides griped almost painfully in sexual lust; a ravishing heat had taken over my body. And by the feel of Romeo’s rough, wandering hands and his jeans against my pelvis, he was fighting to keep his composure too.
Romeo leaned in and pressed his smooth lips against mine. I played with the wisps of hair at the back of his neck, and he whispered, “Fuck, Mol. You’re tryin’ my restraint lookin’ this beautiful. How the hell am I meant to get through the night? I’ll be fightin’ off the guys with a stick. They’re gonna get in trouble if they even look at you for a second.”
“I only want you, baby. You know that,” I assured and watched as a wave of tranquillity flashed across his face. I reached around, lacing his hand in mine. “Let’s go. I’m excited for you to teach me how to two-step.”
He guffawed as he wrapped his arm around my neck. “Fuck two-steppin’. I want you pressed right against me, slow dancin’ all night long.”
14
Club Flux was packed from wall to wall with drunken Tide supporters who’d been at the game, and as soon as we arrived, Romeo was accosted with praise and congratulatory handshakes. He gripped onto me tightly, his arm around my shoulder and my head tucked against the crook of his neck.
Our group was given a booth in the corner of the club, the benefit of being with the Romeo Prince.
We were heading to the cornered-off area when a drunken student sporting a Tide jersey grabbed hold of my arm and jostled me to his sweaty chest. “Bullet’s good luck charm! You’re saving the season, darlin’! You deserve a big ol’ thank you kiss!”
The guy was immediately pushed away from me and Romeo held him up by the neck of his shirt. “What the f**k do you think you’re doin’?”
The Tide fan instantly paled and held up his hands in surrender. “Bullet… I-I was j-just showing my appreciation.”
“Then appreciate her from afar. Touch her again and you’ll be starin’ up at us from the f**kin’ ground. You get me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get you, man. I’ll back off. S-sorry…” Romeo dropped him to the ground and the shell-shocked fan immediately rushed away through the crowd. When Romeo turned back to me, I stood glaring at him with folded arms and a pissed-off scowl.
“Baby…” He tried to placate, inching forward.
I sliced my hand through the air, gesturing for him to shut up and stop. “No need, Romeo! Absolutely no bloody need for what you just did. You didn’t have to be so damn aggressive to the poor guy!”
Romeo’s full lips puckered into a pout. “But he touched you.”
“So you threaten him?”
“You’re mine and he touched you. I didn’t like it.”
“Christ, Rome, that was completely over the top.”
He blew out a long sigh. “I f**ked up again, didn’t I?” He looked so lost.
I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Yes, you did.”
His lip hooked into a smirk as his hand dropped to run over my backside. “Am I forgiven?”
My breath hitched and I placed my forehead against his. “I’m yours. Be calm.”
A wave of peace washed over his features and he nodded his head curtly before crashing his lips to mine, stealing a hard kiss.
We headed to the private table and joined our friends. Within minutes, a petite blond waitress arrived to take our drink orders. From the minute she arrived, she never took her green eyes off Rome. I’d come to expect it. He drew people to him—whether due to his good looks or whom he played for. But she was acting differently; she looked at him as if she knew him… intimately.
After we ordered several bottles of beer, and Rome’s apparent ignorance of the waitress’ constant attention, I relaxed and was finally able to survey the club. It was a mass of grinding, gyrating bodies and men enthusiastically swinging their female partners around the dance floor—I assumed that was two-stepping. It was all pretty entertaining.