Rome (Marked Men, #3)(38)

“It’s fine. Now move or I’ll have to hurt you.”

He grunted his agreement and got back to business. He stroked along my legs until I bent them up along by his sides. One of his hands tangled up in the top of my short hair and all that lovely, sinewy muscle started heaving and pushing against me. With each thrust, each retreat, his eyes got hotter and burned brighter. I couldn’t look away. It was even better, more intense than the first time. He didn’t leave any part of me untouched. My mouth, my neck, my breasts, the part where I was open and sliding along him. His hands, his mouth … they did everything they could to pull me back apart.

He said my name, I’m pretty sure I screamed his when he reached down between the two of us, and right before he pushed me over the edge again started playing with that damn hoop. His thick fingers were so light, so gentle, but I was too gone, too ready to let go, so it just took a brush of skin and the slight tug of metal in aroused flesh to make me come unglued and throw my head back and arch up against him hard enough that he got an arm under my back. Holding me that way, he plunged into me with renewed vigor and less care for my well-being. It was awesome. I felt him shudder his own release, felt him flick his tongue along the cord of my neck that was throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and then he rolled over so that both of us had our backs on the bed and our legs dangling over the side. I swore that if he was that good at getting me off with just his hands, I was never going to survive if he ever worked his way to getting his mouth down there. He was dangerous in a whole different way now.

We were both breathing hard and silent. I was pretty sure that Rome was the best cure for a hangover I had ever come across. He picked up one of my much smaller hands in his own and trailed a thumb across my neon-painted nails.

“So you gonna let me take you on a date or something, Cora Lewis?”

I turned my head to look at him and had to bite back a laugh. He actually looked concerned about my answer.

“Do you want to take me on a date, Rome Archer?”

“Yeah, I think I do. Don’t get me wrong. If you just want me to take you to bed anytime you feel up to it, I’m game for that as well, but I like you, so yeah, I would like to take you on a date.”

I went to push up on my elbows so I could look him in the eye, when I realized we were both really naked and there was a whole lot of non-after-sex stuff happening. I felt my eyes get huge in my face and I must have looked panicked because he frowned.

“Seriously we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Uh … The date is fine, but we have a problem.”

He scratched his chest and yawned. “The guys?”

I smacked him on the arm. “No, well yeah, maybe, but something more serious than that.”

He copied my pose. “What?”

“I’m not on the pill.”

We stared at each other for what felt like five minutes without talking. I was smarter than this, always had been. I couldn’t believe I let something as basic as safe sex get away from me. Finally he flopped back down on the bed and threw his arm across his eyes.

“I knew I felt like I forgot something the last time.”

Well, crap, I hadn’t even considered the time before. I cleared my throat.

“And?”

He just shrugged a big shoulder. “It’s not like we can go back and un-have sex.”

I growled a little at him and narrowed my eyes. “What if the result is a baby?”

“Then we deal with it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Don’t freak out yet.”

Oh, this wasn’t even close to freaking out, but he didn’t know me well enough to know that, which really was the entire problem with the possibility of getting knocked up by a virtual stranger. I was going to start hyperventilating, start spazzing out, but before I could, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down so that I was lying on top of him. I felt his lips brush the top of my head and felt that wide chest start to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. The jackass was going to fall asleep on me while I was having a major crisis.

“Cora.” I put my head down over his heart and tried to calm down. “Don’t worry, Half-Pint, we got this.”

And then he was asleep and I was left wondering how such an obviously imperfect guy had invaded my world so thoroughly and how right Rowdy had been, sideways. Everything was most definitely sideways and right now I had no clue which way was up.





CHAPTER 8



Rome


I was sprawled out under the pool table, trying to get the stupid thing level, when several pairs of worn motorcycle boots were suddenly the only things I could see through the legs I had jacked up off the floor. It was early afternoon, so the bar was dead and Brite had taken off to run some errands. I guess that left me sort of in charge, and if a bunch of bikers were going to show up and trash all the hard work I had put in to this place over the last few weeks, it was going to get unpleasant really fast. I took a quick count, noting that there appeared to be five of them, before I slid out from under the table and wiped my hands down on my jeans.

Bikers looked like bikers, but these guys were clearly the top branch of the club. I knew badass when I saw it, could feel the don’t f*ck with me coming off this crew. These guys were no prospects, no sidewalk bikers looking for a little action. These dudes were the real deal, and if they wanted a piece of me, I was going to have to work way harder at staying alive than I had the last time I tangled with a bunch of bikers.