Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
It felt safe.
I wanted to say yes so bad. I wanted to lean forward and kiss him and tell him that of course we could have a second date. And a third and then someday move in together and maybe even adopt a puppy or something.
Except I still had a giant black eye from last night.
That wasn’t his fault, of course, and it would heal. But I couldn’t see myself going back to the Starkwood Saloon on any of those dates. Rome liked to go there a lot, though. So did everyone in his motorcycle club. They lived a different kind of life than me—one I didn’t understand. I had no right to judge them for that, but I wasn’t sure I could join them, either.
Sooner or later, this guy was going to break my heart.
“Rome,” I said softly, reaching up to smooth out the collar of his T-shirt. It’d gotten twisted while he was tickling me. I kept my eyes focused on the fabric because I wasn’t sure I could look him in the face. “I like you a lot.”
“Don’t do it, Randi.”
“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say.”
He caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Nobody ever says ‘I like you a lot’ unless they’re about to dump someone,” he stated bluntly. “And you’re not going to dump me. It’s better to stop now, before we have our first fight.”
“You listened earlier,” I whispered. “It’s why I trusted you enough to come up here.”
“And I’ll listen now,” he replied. “If you insist. But then I’m gonna argue with you and it’ll probably get ugly. We might even have angry hate sex. And I’m totally down with angry hate sex—especially since it’s usually followed by hot makeup sex—but this is our first time. It should be sweet. Happy. It should be so fucking beautiful that unicorns dance on the ceiling and my dick shoots rainbows instead of come. We can fight later.”
Before I could respond, he pulled me in close for a long kiss. His other arm still held my hips tight across his, and he flexed upward. I felt him right in my core.
Rome had just beaten me, fair and square.
Either I could argue about hypothetical relationship incompatibilities, or I could enjoy hot sex with a man who was not only gorgeous, but very into me. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have standards. He’d been very clear—no lizards.
I’d already had one fight today. I didn’t need another.
The kiss ended, although his hands had started roaming around my body. I shivered, ready for more.
“So where are we going on our second date?” I asked.
Rome’s hands tightened.
“Thank fucking God,” he said. “Second date starts now.”
In an instant, he’d flipped me flat on my back, his legs still firmly between mine. The expression on his face was pure triumph. My hands reached for my jeans but he was already there. It took all of two seconds for him to rip them off. He didn’t waste any time on himself, either, tearing his fly open and fumbling with a condom.
“Let me help put it on.”
Rome shook his head, still smug.
“Yeah, I’d last about two seconds if you did that.”
Another minute and he was on me, catching my arms and pinning them up and over my head with one strong hand. The other reached down between us, sliding around my clit before slipping a finger in to make sure I was ready. Yeah, that wasn’t going to be a problem. Bucking my hips, I demanded more.
Rome found my entrance and slowly pushed inside. It’d been a long time since I’d slept with anyone, and while a part of me just wanted him to slam it home, another appreciated the consideration. Every inch stretched me to the brink of delicious pain. The man was almost—but not quite—more than I could handle.
He watched my face the entire time, eyes dark with possession and deep satisfaction. He’d been telling the truth—Rome truly wasn’t looking for a quick fuck.
There was something almost terrifying about that.
Terrifying and thrilling.
Then he started moving faster, and I felt a familiar pressure grow deep inside. He had a knack for bringing his pelvic bone down against my clit with every stroke, pausing every third or fourth time for a quick grind. I squirmed against him, feeling almost desperate as the waves of my orgasm started to build.
God, it was almost too much.
Rome surrounded me, overwhelming me. All I could see or smell or feel was him, covering me, stretching me, carrying me toward the end. There was a sense of inevitability and purpose in his movements, and my heart strained.
He was doing all the work, but I still couldn’t catch my breath.
Then he let my arms go. Bracing with one hand, he brought the other down and around my waist, somehow lifting my pelvis into his for a deep, hard grind.