My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(21)

Thirty minutes later, the plane lowered in preparation for landing.

“Shortbread.”

That nickname again.

“Asshole?”

Hey, it was only polite to reciprocate.

“It’s been a while since I’ve read Anna Karenina, but I’m pretty sure I would remember if Anna and Count Alexei engaged in praise kink.”

My back stiffened.

I said nothing.

I felt Romeo lean downward until his chin brushed the edge of my collarbone. He peered straight into the book, his stubbled cheek pressed against mine, and began reading.

“‘…he thrust his cock into her dripping cunt, pushing only halfway, driving her mad with desire and pleasure. In and out. In and out. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please, I need you to fill me. Every hard inch of you.’ ‘Only good girls get rewarded,’ the handsome stranger maintained, bringing his hand down to her plump rear. ‘And you’ve been very, very bad.’”

First of all, the man could narrate romance books and make a fortune if the whole perpetuating-a-Third-World-War gig didn’t work out.

Second of all, I was incredibly dumb to even notice.

He was a terrible human. Who cared that he had a sexy voice and a jawline I could cut cheese with?

Romeo plucked the hardcover from between my fingers. I turned to look at him.

He stripped the dust jacket, revealing a completely different book beneath the Anna Karenina cover.

A frown touched his lips. “Zaddy Knows Best?”

I snatched it from his hands. “It’s a work of art.”

“It’s smut.”

“What do you think Anna did with Alexei? Same stuff. Just off-page.”

“Yes. I’m sure Tolstoy chopped the anal-beads scene during the final edits.”

“He might have.”

At this point, I was arguing with him for the sport of it.

It was also the only sport I was eager to engage in.

Oliver barked out a half cough, half laugh behind my shoulder. Zach ran his hand down his face. I could’ve sworn I saw his lips twitch up behind it.

Courage blossomed in my chest.

“Stop defying me,” Romeo warned.

“Then stop being impossible. You don’t let me breathe.”

“Now there’s an idea.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to marry a woman you can’t stand just because you’re engaged in a pissing contest with Madison. I never asked for any of this. Not for you, not for him, not for anything.”

Incredibly, this penetrated his numbness.

His usually tense jaw loosened a little.

He sat back, finally giving me some space. “Continue reading your book and stop talking.”

“My knees hurt on the floor,” I lied. I was perfectly comfortable, but an idea sprouted in my head. “Can I sit in the recliner next to the cockpit?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Romeo.” Zach’s voice was sharp as a blade, chilling against his otherwise wholesome look. “Cut this shit out.”

My soon-to-be husband’s nostrils flared. “Sit in my lap.”

I considered defying him, but produced a better idea. With an exaggerated sigh, I stood and parked my butt on his lap.

His friends continued watching.

Maybe I should have felt self-conscious, but I didn’t.

None of this was my fault.

“Better?” Not an ounce of concern coated Romeo’s voice.

I huffed in response.

He didn’t deserve my words.

For the next thirty minutes, I shifted and stretched in his lap, pretending to search for a comfortable position, rubbing against his crotch.

He became hard and engorged beneath me until it felt like I sat on a water pipe.

“Stop moving.” He barely rasped out the guttural command.

“Just trying to find a comfortable spot.”

I raised my head and chanced a glimpse at Oliver, who grinned ear to ear. I felt like Bugs Bunny, driving Elmer mad but somehow getting away with it.

“How hard could it be?” Romeo bit out.

“Oh, trust me, very hard.”

Oliver erupted into full-blown laughter.

I tilted my head a smidge to observe Romeo’s reaction. He looked ready to wrap his fingers around my throat and strangle me.

I waited for him to tell me to leave his lap.

But the words never came.

He knew he’d lose our little game if he told me to go.

“I love her, Rom.” Von Bismarck slow-clapped from his seat. “If you won’t marry her, I will.”

“You should marry Oliver.” Everything that came out of Zach’s mouth sounded like a business proposal. “He’s better looking, generally more pleasant, and richer than God.”

“Please.” Oliver waved a hand. “God’s entire net worth is not even what I pay the IRS annually. But do I get that kind of following and appreciation? No.”

“I’ll join your cult,” I volunteered.

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

Zach tipped his chin down, flashing Romeo a taunting smirk. “Well, what do you know? Da Nang turned out to be a success.”

I waited for a reaction from my new fiancé.

None came.