Page 146 of Volatile Obsessions

“Then tell him to get it done, stat,” he deadpanned.

It wasn’t up for discussion.

“I’ll text him tonight, okay?” I promised. “Now, let’s get out of here. How about we go have a few drinks at Blackbirdfirst, then go home?”

Rome tipped his head and pulled me closer, brushing our lips together. “I could fucking use one.”

* * *

Blackbird wasn’t overly packedby the time we arrived—thank god. I suspected it was likely due to the fact we were in the middle of the workweek, but in any case, I was grateful for the chill vibe.

Chill is exactly what Rome and I needed right now.

The hostess greeted us and sat us over at the bar where we were tended to right away, our drinks ordered and served within minutes.

It was great, and while we didn’t talk much, I was glad we’d stopped in before going home.

I wasn’t really in the mood to chat anyway, and I knew for sure Rome wasn’t either. What transpired earlier was enough to exhaust us both—mentally, physically. I didn’t need forced conversation just for the sake of it, for the sake of pretending everything was alright.

Yes, we as couple were fine, but I knew Rome was raging inside; processing, analyzing, debating whether or not he should react on my behalf.

Keeping him calm was all I cared about—so if that meant just being there with him, hanging on his arm, and relishing his company as soft jazz played in the background, then so be it.

I’d do it a thousand times over if I had to.

It’s not like it was difficult or awkward. It never was. Our ability to be comfortably silent with one another was actually one of the things I loved most about our relationship.

We could sit in silence for hours and it was nothing but serene.

Like now—possessive hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbed back and forth tenderly over my pencil skirt as he stared into the amber liquid within his glass. Every so often, he’d peek over at me and offer a lopsided smirk, leaning in for a chaste kiss that left me humming in bliss.

This right here was all I needed.

And the bathroom, too—two drinks in and I was about to piss myself.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room really quick. I’ll be right back,” I said to him, leaning over to peck his cheek.

But he turned his face in entirety, catching my lips with his own instead. A smirked twitched somewhere between us as his hand threaded into my hair, cupping my head. “Hurry—I’m about done here.”

“Already?” I grinned, prompting him to nod as he sucked on my bottom lip.

“I need you.”

“On the desk again?” I quipped, because although I’d freaked on my work desk, I wouldn’t mind him fulfilling that damned fantasy on my home desk.

“The desk, the couch, in the kitchen, on the bathroom floor. Wherever you want, however you want. I just need you before I lose my shit,” he gritted out, flooding me on the spot.

Pussy clenching as those images unfolded in my mind, I hummed lasciviously and pecked his lips one last time. “Three minutes, baby. Get the bill settled.”

A tip of his head.

An encouraging swat to my ass.

I squeaked and snatched my purse off the bar top, literally scampering down the dim corridor on the balls of my pumps, both from my bladder on the verge of an explosion and my libido racing into overdrive.

I couldn’t get into the stall fast enough.

Couldn’t piss fast enough.

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