the funeral. But I hate it. I fucking hate it.”
He moved slowly like he was afraid if he moved too fast, I’d bolt.
Which was probably accurate.
Then again, Romeo knew me well.
Too well.
He reached out, his fingertips grazing my arm as he pulled me further into the bathroom, lifting me onto the countertop. His hands dug into my hips, my legs straddled his body.
“Wash it off,” he whispered.
“Wh-what?” Our gazes locked. “The blood?”
“The lipstick.” He handed me the wet washcloth, droplets of water slid down my wrist. I held it close to his face in confusion.
“There may not be any on my neck right now, but I still feel it, it’s worse than the blood, you’re right, while I’m trying to seduce, they’re trying to mark, to claim me, and even though I’ve only ever belonged to one person, it feels like theft, every fucking time.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
Was this really happening?
Don’t trust him.
Don’t.
Why wasn’t he pushing me away now?
Was it pity?
Grief?
“Here.” He touched the side of his neck, and when I didn’t move, he grabbed my hand and pressed the rag against his skin. “And here.” He moved my hand across the front of his neck, where the skin was clean. “Over here.” He ran the rag down the front of his chest.
The rag slipped from my fingers, and my palm was now pressed against his naked skin.
His breath hitched.
Jaw clenched.
He moved so close I could feel the heat of him between my thighs; the air was so thick that it was hard to breathe.
Only feel.
Him.
Everywhere.
All at once.
His eyes flickered to my mouth again. His hands gripped the counter with so much strength that his fingertips were white. He leaned forward, and every muscle in his body was flexed. Making me lick my lips, ready to meet him halfway despite all the reasons I shouldn’t.
Very valid reasons.
He would only break me again, wouldn’t he?
But how did you break something that was already broken and unfixable? Like a puzzle with too many missing pieces?
“Eden.” My name fell like a promise from his lips as they slowly grazed mine.
Until we heard a voice screech, “MAMA!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“If you’re not a hero, does that make you a villain?” —Alex Flinn
Eden
Naz screeched, and we both jerked apart, Romeo nearly against the wall, me nearly colliding with the bathroom mirror.
“Mama, it’s been five minutes!”
Had it though?
Because to me, it felt like an eternity, those few moments where our lips had touched.
Romeo’s lips pulled into an amused smile.
Naz rounded the corner and put his hands on his hips. “Mom, if I don’t get to bed on time, I’ll get sick, remember? You said if I don’t go to bed at the same time I’m going to—”
“I know what I said,” I interrupted.
“Uncle Romeo, Mama’s face is super red. Is she getting sick? Should she go to bed too?”
Romeo licked his lips and bent down until he was at eye level with Naz. “You’re right; she probably should go to bed early…”
I crossed my legs.
He was driving me insane!
One minute I wanted to run him over with my car, the next, I was thinking about an early bedtime with his mouth between my thighs.
Tristian had never…I’d told him I didn’t like it.
Had I just been saving that for someone else?
For Romeo?
And why was I even thinking about that right now?
“Mama?” Naz waved a hand in the air. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Absolutely.” I cleared my throat and hopped down from the counter, then nearly collided with Romeo. He steadied me on my feet. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy.”
Romeo released me but not before squeezing my arm as if to say “later.” Did I want there to be a later? My body and mind were at complete war with each other. I led Naz into his room, said his prayers with him, and kissed him on the head. I grew up with cameras all around me, so the ones that I knew were in his room, thanks to Romeo, didn’t bother me.
Exhaustion had already hit. I went back to my room, only to hear the shower running.
“Strip,” Romeo said as he came out of the bathroom. “Now.”
“I am not having sex with you!” The nerve of that idiot! A kiss didn’t mean naked time! I could just strangle him!
His lips pressed together in an amused smile as he approached me. Leaning in close to my mouth, he whispered, “I don’t remember asking you to.”
“What?”
“Have sex.” He pecked the tip of my nose like I was a