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“But, Rone, weboth lost a part of our hearts.”
He rakes his hands through his hair, biting on his lip.
The air crackles between us. I can’t believe we’re here again. “What do you want from me?”
“Isn’t it fucking obvious?” He holds out his arms. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. You already know what I want. I came here because I want you.”
“No, you want to ask questions you already know the answers to. There’s a difference, babe.” My anger slowly subsiding.
“Don’t play games. I’m done. You need to lay it out for me. If you want me out of your life, then go ahead. Tell me to never ask the question again and I will. I lost you, and I’ll do it again if you ask me to.”
I brush away a tear. “I ...” But I stop, not knowing what to tell him.
“If you don’t want me, if you say you don’t feel the same, then fine. I’ll believe it, but I need you to say it out loud.”
“I ... I ...” I stutter.
“What? Tell me, damn it. I need to hear you say it!” he yells, pushing me against the wall. He slams his hands on either side of my head.
I debate kneeing him in the balls, but a part of me also loves the predatory side of him. The flames dancing in his eyes as they roam over my body have me breaking out in goose bumps.
“Fuck it,” he growls, clawing at my clothes and kissing me hard, his body trembling just like mine. I moan into his mouth, my hands tugging on his hair. Before I know it, we’re tearing off our clothes.
“I don’t want you to go,” I tell him. He sighs with relief, fingers digging into my flesh. Stumbling back against the sofa, I stroke the curve of his butt, pinching hard. I laugh when we almost topple over.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he says, as I drape my legs around his ass, sitting on the back of the couch.
I giggle when his hand gets caught in my shirt and it tears, exposing my naked breast.
“Fuck, you won’t have any clothes left.”
Laughing, I kiss him. Pulling on his bottom lip with my teeth, he lifts me up into his arms gripping my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh. I don’t know how, but I lose my balance and in attempt to hold himself up, he slips. We fall to the ground. He turns in the air, slamming his back against the hardwood floor while I land on top of him.
“Rone, are you okay?” I ask, shaking him a little.
“Lost my mind there for a while.” He winces, opening his eyes slowly, his forehead crinkling.
Grinning, I check to see if he’s still in one piece. I kiss him all over and he grows hard against my thigh. He looks at my shorts and shakes his head. “Man, I also tore your shorts.”
I scream when he turns me onto my back and starts to tickle me. His eyes seem darker. He playfully smacks my ass, making me squirm and pant at the same time.
Yelling and thrashing, I try to get him off of me. He kisses between my breasts, his beard scratching my feverish flesh. I shriek and laugh, trying to get him to move. “I’m going to pee my pants.” I burst out laughing.
“Shouldn’t I be the one marking you as mine that way?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.
I open my eyes wide. “I’d like to watch you try, you crazy asshole,” I say, breathing hard.
“Relax, maybe later,” he drawls. He grabs my arms, pushing them above my head. Leaning down, he scrapes his stubble over the crook of my neck, knowing this is the one place where I lose it. He holds my hands prisoner, and I’m screaming, yelling, and laughing at the same time when the boys storm in and pull him away from me.
“Not again, you son of a bitch,” Gunner roars, taking a swing at Rone. His fist makes contact with his eye.
“Gunner!” I yell.
Evan shoves Navarone against the wall, while Frankie kneels next to me, asking if I’m okay. Evan pushes him higher up the wall and Rone lets him.
“Fucker,” Gunner swears, punching him in his stomach, when I know for a fact Rone could put up a fight if he wanted to.
I push Frankie out of the way and step between Rone and Evan, who are both panting. Navarone wipes the blood from his nose, leaning against the wall and holding his stomach.
