Page 22 of The Temptation
Instead, I popped in my earbuds and fired up Spotify, letting the music drown out the noise.
It was the only thing that gave me the slightest ounce of satisfaction. I still can’t believe he did that. Will I be forever left to wonder if Damien and Rosie get together? And don’t even get me started on what he did to Big-O. My clitoris and I are both devastated at her loss. She brought us countless hours of pleasure.
She deserved better.
I deserved better.
I turn off the burner on the stovetop and reach for a plate just as I hear, “Something smells good.”
My first instinct is to look out the window, since logic tells me that’s where that voice should be coming from, but when I don’t see Romeo anywhere in the backyard, I briefly glance behind me. My eyes narrow into slits the moment I do.
“How did you get inside?”
When he reaches up to bop the tip of my nose, I instinctivelyslap his hand away. “I’m a career criminal, sweetheart. Did you forget that?”
“So, you broke in?”
“I live here, Lucia, so I wouldn’t class it as a break and enter.”
He moves over to the cutlery drawer and grabs the knives and forks to begin setting the table as if last night never happened. It’s a sight I usually love to observe, but this morning it makes me livid.
He’s wasting his time setting a place for himself because I only cooked breakfast for one this morning.
I wait until he’s seated before I bring my food to the table. I’m still standing beside my chair as his eyes move from my plate to my face.
He leans back in his seat and glances around me, searching for his breakfast.
“Where’s mine?”
“I don’t cook for murderousbastardos.”
A smug smile curves his lips as he reaches for my plate, dragging it towards himself.
“Hey,” I protest, my hand shooting out to grab it back, but his fingers close around my wrist before I can.
He then does something unexpected … he tugs me down onto his lap.
“Looks like we’re sharing, then. I’m starving.” Romeo’s arm slips around my waist as I try to stand, holding me firmly in place. “Not so fast, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart,” I mutter, although up until last night, I would’ve given anything to be just that. “We are enemies now.”
He barks out a laugh. “You’re not my enemy, Luc. I know it, and so do you.”
I can’t argue with that, but hell will freeze over before I admit it.
“I’m not your sweetheart,” I reiterate.
“No, you’re not. You’re actually a huge pain in my arse, but I know better than to poke the bear when she’s already pissed.”
My head snaps towards him. My lips purse and eyes narrow—my attempt at a death glare. “Pretty sure you just poked her.”
He blows out a long, frustrated breath. “I don’t want to fight with you, Lucia. But that fucker had it coming.”
“Thatfuckerhad a name.”
His eyebrows jump. “It did?”
“Yes. Big-O. And she was innocent in all this. All she ever did was bring me pleasure. What you did to her was cruel. Barbaric, even.”
