Page 189 of Quinlan

“I thought I needed to clean this up.” Even though I frown, my arms go around Rome’s neck, right over his charcoal suit jacket. My fingers lace at his nape, though it does nothing to soften his expression. “I dropped the plate.”

“You needed to clean,” he huffs, his tone incredulous. “Barefoot.”

“Well, yes.” My heart beats to reach Rome. To jump into his broad chest and unite with his. He’s so sexy when he’s being protective like this. “I… I didn’t eat much, Rome. I’m so sorry. After yesterday, you said we’d talk. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He gives me a noncommittal huff, hugging me closer to him.

Rome isn’t mad. I could try making him laugh. “I would’ve plucked out the splinters and bandaged my feet later. I wouldn’t have died, you know.”

“You would’ve damaged my property, that’s what you would’ve done.” The storm clears behind his blue eyes. “Our property.”

“I’m not anyone’s property.”

“It hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“How much you want it. How it turns you on.” Rome places me on the counter, pushes my thighs apart. His hands are on my thighs and his face and mine are an inch apart. Less than that. “We can play this game for days. Weeks. Months.Years. Won’t change the simple truth that you’re our property.”

“No.” My chest rises and falls, the tension in the kitchen palpable. I’m not scared of him, but he’s early and he’s sort of smiling with his eyes and I want to play with him.

“Yes.”

My nostrils flare, much like Rome’s. In less than a second, this game has taken on a dark turn. The air crackles between us, and I feel like I’m standing in the eye of a hurricane. His hands slideup my body, landing at the sides of my neck. Dragging me to him.

“No.”

“Yes.” His lips brush against mine, electricity flowing through him. “Trust me, Damien and Liam would be just as disappointed to hear you’re being careless with what’s ours.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I breathe the air Rome gives me. Breathes into me. Otherwise, I would choke.

He doesn’t get to be this hot when he talks to me as if I’m a chair or a picture they’ve acquired. But he does. Oh, he does.

“The plate is your property too,” I whisper.

“Fuck the plate.” The wordfuckon his tongue is the dirtiest I’ve ever heard. “Let’s start over. I’m home early from the office. What’s the right way to greet me?”

Going down on my knees for him. Undoing his belt, pulling down his zipper. Taking him out and sucking his gorgeous cock until he empties himself inside me.

“So dirty.” I’m an open book to him. He sees my filthy desires as if I’d articulated them for him. “Another day. When your feet won’t bleed when I bend you over this island and fuck you raw. Try again.”

“Honey.” My fingers go to the front of his shirt, clutching it. Crumpling the expensive fabric. “How was your day?”

“Close,” he growls.

Our foreheads press against each other. “Tell me.”

“Start with telling me how much you’ve missed me.”

“I’ve missed you.” Easiest thing I’ve done in my life. Telling the truth is always easy. “So much.”

“Good girl.” His fingers squeeze, choke, possess me. “I’ve really missed you too, sweetheart. It’s too fucking good to come back home to you.”

I would levitate, float in the air, go high up in the sky, never to return if not for Rome grounding me. If not for this harsh,scowling man who yanks my mouth to his. He’s crushing me, kissing me. Obliterating me through this impossibly painful and mind-numbing kiss.

It’s much better than any food he’s ever made. I’ll never tell him that, though. This one I’m taking with me to the grave.

“Stay here.” Rome’s gaze darkens, pinning me in place.

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