My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(107)

He knew his place.

Shut up and drive.





It seemed Shortbread had a bone to pick.

Or in her case—break.

I ignored her, striding into my room, still bleeding. She followed the scarlet drops of blood, like Hansel and Gretel chasing a candy trail.

In my bathroom, I yanked out a first-aid kit and sanitized the wound again. I’d suffered scrapes worse than this, but it looked nasty.

Dallas hopped on the counter by the sink, cradled her knees, and rested her chin on them, studying. “Need help?”

I dabbed the area dry and pulled out a needle and thread, frowning down at the bicep I needed to sew. “Do you know how to stitch gunshot wounds?”

“No.”

“Then, how do you suggest you help me? Cheering from the sidelines, holding a sign of my name?”

She blinked at my harsh words, obviously hurt.

Sliding the thread through the needle’s eye, I added, “You may leave now. You did well today. I think we saved the contract.”

“Is that all you care about?”

I ran the tip of the needle along my skin, searching for where it had broken. What a lousy angle to stitch myself from.

“Of course not. I also care about the damage they inflicted on Le Bleu. Cara will need to talk to the insurance company and authorities. Bureaucracy is a real bitch.”

“You saved my life.”

“That clown wasn’t going to inflict any serious damage. He was just a kid.”

She hopped off the counter, ducked her head under me to catch my gaze, and palmed my face. “No, he was angry and provoked. You took a bullet for me, Romeo.”

I scowled. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Thank you.”

Since I’d made no progress finding the starting point to stitch myself, I cleared my throat, stepping back. “You’re welcome. Now leave.”

“I want you.”

Her hand ran the length of my chest up to my shoulder.

I want you, too, which is why I need you to get the hell away from here. I no longer recognize myself or my actions where you’re concerned. You’ve become a liability I cannot afford.

Rather than kick her out, I set the needle and thread down. “You can ride my thigh.”

“I want to ride your cock.” She teased up the short hem of her olive satin dress. “When you forced me to tag along to Le Bleu, didn’t you say you’ll fuck me if I behave? I behaved.”

“I said I’ll fuck you when you’re on your period.”

“I interpreted that differently.”

“It’s not a Benedict de Spinoza book. It was not open to different interpretations.”

“Whatever. That last time wasn’t so great anyway.” Contrary to her words, her dress inched up, flirting with the border of her lace panties. “It happened so long ago that I don’t even remember much. Was I even there? Were you?”

Egging me on wouldn’t work.

Sadly for her, I was more sophisticated than that.

She continued, undeterred. “Oliver told me you’re a born-again virgin. You know your pee pee has other functions, right?”

“Leave, Dallas.”

But she didn’t leave.

Instead, she dropped to her knees and began undoing my belt. I leaned on the edge of the sink, powerless to stop her. My fingers curled around the counter.

“I’m going to bleed all over my floor.”

A last-ditch effort to stop her.

She pulled out my heavy, engorged cock. Her fingers circled it all the way without touching.

I loved how tiny she was compared to me. How unlikely a pair we were. How people must’ve wondered how I fit into her.

The delicious answer, by the way, was barely.

“It’ll compliment all the green I splashed on your ceiling.”

She wrapped her lips around my cock, taking it inch by inch. Her warmth engulfed it.

I shuddered when she flattened her tongue against my shaft.

I dropped my head back and groaned. Dallas was a great dick-sucker. She had the stamina, since her jaw worked out all day from eating.

And she was enthusiastic.

I could tell she loved going down on me.

I’d had my dick sucked by enough women who only did it to warm my bed. They’d blink up at me, examining me through their lashes with what they thought were seductive grins, suckling gently, stroking my dick up and down like it was a cello.

Not Shortbread.

Shortbread loved it all—the sucking, the spitting, the kissing, the way my cock hit the back of her throat when I grabbed her hair and fucked her face.

She loved gagging on it and often tried to take me all the way to the root. In fact, this seemed to be the only aspect in Dallas’s life in which she was not lazy.

Tilting my chin down, I watched as she sucked me off. Crimson drops ran down her glossy hair, trailing along her forehead.

Seeing her tainted with my blood did something to me. Gave me a sense of ownership I normally did not allow myself to contemplate.

Perhaps it was the blood loss, but I didn’t want to finish like this. Coming in her mouth wouldn’t cut it.

Lacing her long brown hair in my fist, I tugged her away from my cock. She pulled back, blinking at me expectantly.

“You want me to fuck you?” I leaned down, bringing her face to mine so our noses crushed together. I grabbed the front of her dress, twisting, tightening it against her skin until the fabric began pulling apart and tearing. “You want me to knock you up?”