Page 27 of Heartless Monster

Suddenly, I hear the creak of the doors in the gym, and the sounds of voices ring nearby.

Rome immediately slaps a hand over my mouth, his jersey flush with my bare skin as he grits, “Don’t you dare make a sound.”

I swallow hard, my stomach twisting in tight knots. I know he can feel the rapid beating of my heart with his chest pressed to mine. Not to mention, my entire body is shaking. Tears prick in the corners of my eyes, but I blink hard, hoping my eyes will just swallow them up because if Rome sees me cry, he’ll enjoy torturing me even more.

The voices travel farther and farther away until they are nonexistent.

Rome’s hand moves from my mouth downward. His fingers skim over my cleavage and I draw in a shaky breath.

He keeps going until he stops at my tattoo. His thumb grazes over the dandelion on my skin, and he takes a step back to look down at it. “I have to say, Freckles, I’m pretty fucking surprised at this. Thought for sure you were a square.”

I don’t respond because I’m too caught up in the moment, trying to wrap my head around what’s going on. Nothing good can come from being this close to Rome.

More voices draw near and Rome puts his finger over my mouth. “Shhh,” he whispers, and the next thing I know, he’s popping the button on my jeans.

Warmth spreads like fire through me. I don’t say anything. I’m too stunned to process what is happening, let alone form a complete sentence.

The worst part of all this is the way my body reacts to his touch. The tingling sensation between my legs, followed by the feeling of dampness in my panties, is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I just hate that it’s happening because of him.

No one has ever touched me like this before, and yet for some insane reason, my body decides to come alive under the brush of my enemy’s fingers.

I’m not fully inexperienced. A friend of mine got me this small rose-shaped toy that vibrates against my clit and I’ve used that a handful of times, but I always get nervous, thinking someone is going to walk in and catch me. It’s probably been a good four months since I’ve even pulled it out.

I’m a virgin—in every way possible.

It’s sad, really. I’m not saving myself for marriage or anything. I’ve just never allowed any guys to go that far. Ethan was my first real boyfriend, and we dated for eight months before I moved, and the most he’s ever done is squeeze my breasts above my shirt. Apparently Ethan needed a break to decide what he wants out of this relationship. I’m not sure where we stand at this point in time, but it’s been long enough for him to decide if he wants me or not, so I’d say I’m off the hook there.

Ethan is the complete opposite of Rome. Ethan is the square Rome speaks of. In fact, he was appalled at my tattoo. Thought it was careless because one day I’d regret it. Maybe I will, but it’ll be my regret, not his.

Rome’s breath fans against my neck and my elbows balance me on the shelf pressing into my back.

Oh my God!

I shiver when Rome’s fingers dip below the waistband of my jeans, teasing. I find myself sucking in my stomach that is coated in tiny goosebumps, just to try and give him better access.

What am I doing right now?

The tingling sensation intensifies and I’m a total idiot for just standing here and allowing this. My mind says run, but my body says stay and just keep my damn mouth shut because this feeling is something I never knew I wanted.

As his hand moves down into my pants, his hot breath on my skin again, my stomach tightens nervously. But when his fingers reach between my legs, my traitorous body betrays me and I widen my stance.

“Rome,” I whimper, dragging my tongue across my dry lips. “You shouldn’t…”

“Oh, yes. I should.” His voice is gruff and unfamiliar. His eyes drink in the way I’m breathing. For a moment, I could swear Rome has a soul, because right now, I’m staring directly at it. It’s the most beautiful sea of blue I’ve ever seen, and I want to dive into the water, never to come up for air.

Instinctively, I reach out and grab his free hand gently. I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe to stop him. Maybe just to touch him. But whatever my plan, it fails as he lifts it over my head and pins my hand to the shelf behind me.

I meet his gaze, the coldness in his eyes I’m so used to is still there, it’s just covered with something new. Lust, maybe?

For the first time since I met Rome, I don’t want to fight with him, and I can’t bring myself to stop him.

His fingertips continue to graze over my sensitive clit and I wince in response. I shouldn’t want this. It shouldn’t feel this good. And the small dimple at the corner of his curled lip tells me he’s pleased with the way my body is responding to him.

The tip of his middle finger dips inside my dripping center and my heart prepares to flee from my chest.

“Damn, Freckles. You are tight as fuck. Seems you’ve been keeping another secret.”

If he’s referring to my virginity, it’s not a secret. I just never told him because it’s none of his damn business.

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