Page 45 of Forbidden Romeo

This is how close I need us to be.

Her scream barely reaches my ears before I come too, and we collapse as we orgasm in harmony.

Chapter Eleven

Aimee

I could definitely get used to waking up next to Jack. He sleeps so soundly, the morning sun bouncing through his dark hair and splaying across his muscled back.

I’m immediately jealous of my past self, watching those muscles work as he pleasured me over and over…

I contemplate waking him up to see if he’d be willing to do it again. But one look at his peaceful face has me reconsidering.

When I saw him yesterday, walking over to me by the boardwalk, it looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. It took me most of the evening to get him to relax and be comfortable around me again.

Whatever he’s going through with work, or this argument with his father, is clearly taking its toll.

Instead, I slip out of my bedroom and head for the shower. The hot water soothes the aches I didn’t know I had from last night’s activities. I make a mental note to sign up for the gym again. Maybe enroll in a few self-defense classes for good measure.

By the time I leave the bathroom and pull on an old pair of sweats, there’s a familiar mop of red hair hunched over the kitchen table.

“Morning!” I say.

“Ugh, how are you so chirpy?” Roisin groans.

I bite my tongue before I blurt out the fact there’s a man in my room. “It’s nine AM. I thought you’d be out already. Or are you protesting again today?”

Roisin goes a little green. “Definitely protesting. I only got in a few hours ago.”

“How was Coney Island?” I ask, trying not to let it show how curious I am. I realized the moment I arrived that going there was a mistake. Even with the excuse of being on a date with Jack, it wasn’t cool of me to tail Roisin like that. Even so, I can’t help worrying about my sister and this new crowd she’s begun partying with.

“Tacky as always,” she replies dismissively. “Do you remember going when we were little?”

“Yeah, a bit,” I answer, reminiscing briefly. We’d only ever gone with my mother when she was still alive. Roisin couldn’t have been older than ten at the time.

“Hasn’t changed at all. They still have that shooting game you always beat me at,” Roisin complains, a hint of playful resentment in her voice.

“That’s because you never practiced,” I retort teasingly.

“It was way too noisy in the shooting range,” she defends herself.

I smile at the memory before trying to steer the conversation back on track. “You had fun though?”

“It was fine,” Roisin replies, her tone somewhat guarded as she realizes what I’m really asking. “The director ended up showing up and having a blue fit that we were striking. Kind of ruined the vibe.”

I press on regardless. “Where did you go after that?”

Roisin’s expression tightens, a sign that she’s not in the mood for further questioning. “I don’t know, here and there. Why?”

“Just…” I look at the challenge in her eyes and know this isn’t the right time to push it. We had this discussion yesterday already, and despite the fact we’ve made up now, things are clearly still a bit tense between us. “Never mind.”

Roisin relaxes a little and continues nursing her coffee. I turn away to make my own.

“Your hair. It’s going back to normal.”

“Is it?”

“You’ve almost washed all the brown out,” she remarks.

---