Read Rome: A Marked Men Novel Online

Authors: Jay Crownover

Rome: A Marked Men Novel (40 page)

and levered myself up off the bed. I stood over him and put my hands on my hips. I didn’t miss the way his

eyes narrowed on my chest.

“I’ll run you a bath. You can relax and I’ll help you look less like a mini Brite. How does that sound?”

He grumbled that real men didn’t take baths, but he didn’t argue or try and stop me when I went into the

bathroom and turned on the water. In fact by the time I made it back into the room, he had wrestled his

shirt off and had his pants unbuttoned. I could just stare at him like that forever. Even with the angry scar

that now decorated the side of his neck right above his collarbone and the ugly wound on his side, he was

the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I just gaped at him like a dimwit until he laughed at me and

ordered me over to help him up. It took some maneuvering and some shuffling, and by the time he got his

pants the rest of the way off, there was no doubting that nearly dying hadn’t had any effect on his libido.

I looked at the erection that was now pointing straight upward at his rippling stomach and then up at

him. He gave a small shrug.

“My dick doesn’t give two fucks about doctor’s orders.”

I laughed and helped him into the steamy water. He was so big the liquid spilled over the sides onto the

floor. He gave me an
I told you so
look but settled his broad shoulders back and closed his eyes as I

brushed a thumb over his cheekbone and along the strong line of his jaw where it was covered in a soft

layer of facial hair. I used my other hand to grab a washcloth and roll it over his shoulders and neck,

careful of his new battle mark.

“Rome.” Those unbelievable eyes flicked open and I thought I was going to drown in the blue of them.

“We might not be perfect, but you and I are so perfect for each other. I just want you to know that.”

He grabbed the hand that I was using to stroke his face and sucked the edge of my thumb into his

mouth. Between the heat from the interior of his mouth and the tickle of his beard, I was beginning to

doubt I could keep this all business.

“Kind of funny how that worked out, isn’t it?”

He ran his hand up my arm and tangled his fingers in my hair, and before I knew it, he had my entire

upper half bent over the edge of the tub and I was not only soaking wet but sprawled across his chest as his

mouth sealed itself over mine. Kissing him while he was furry was interesting, and maybe I had been too

hasty in wanting to get rid of the beard. His tongue rubbed against mine, his teeth nipped at the delicate skin

on the inside of my lower lip, and I realized he had completely maneuvered me into the position with the

use of only one good hand. Tricky soldier.

I pushed up off of him and shook my wet bangs out of my face.

“The doctor said no.”

“I say yes.”

I should have fought harder when he moved my hand under the water and wrapped it around his

prominent erection. I told myself I didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was I missed the feel of him, the

weight of him in my hands and in my body. I gave that impressive flesh a light squeeze and bit my lip as I

waged an internal war with what was right and what was right now.

“Come on, Half-Pint. I only have one working side, I got more holes in me than a golf course, and I

haven’t seen you naked in way too long. Climb on and give me something to smile about.”

God, how I wanted to, but I just didn’t want to hurt him and I wasn’t sure about what he was going to

say when he caught sight of my little surprise. I thought I was going to have more time to show him, maybe

break him into the idea slowly in case he hated it, but his good hand was working into the neck of my tank

top and his strong fingers were tweaking my nipple, making it hard to think.

“Rome …”

“Cora …”

I don’t even know why I thought I could fight it. I didn’t have it in me to deny this man anything. I

scootched up so that I was propped up on the edge of the tub next to his bad arm. I made him lean his head

back so that his neck was resting on the rim, and I kissed him long and hard. He tasted like beer and

forever.

“When I take my shirt off, don’t freak out.”

That single eyebrow shot up and he chuckled a little. “I’ve seen your miraculously growing tits, Cora. I

think it’ll be fine.”

I made a face at him and pulled my tank top over my head. There was no missing what I had been

talking about and I heard him suck in a hard breath then swear when the action hurt his still-tender side.

“Oh my God.”

The tattoo was pretty big. It started on the back of my shoulder blade, the chain meticulously detailed

and so real it looked like you could pick it up off my skin. Rule had tattooed the little metal beads that made

up the standard chain so that they were in the shape of a heart. The design twisted and twined under my

arm and high across my rib cage. The twin tags with all of Rome’s vital statistics hung next to each other

under the soft swell of my breast. He was there, forever on my skin. I didn’t know a better way to show

him how much he mattered to me, and apparently it had the desired effect because his eyes shot up to mine

and for once the man that always had the last word was silent.

“That’s what you wanted my tags for.” His voice was husky and there was no mistaking the emotion in

his tone. “It’s beautiful.”

So was the way he kept touching it.

“Rule did it for me. I thought I was going to have more time to surprise you. I wanted to show you

when I couldn’t tell you that you were it for me, too.” I reached out and brushed a knuckle along the spot

that cut across his neck that was still raised, angry, and red. “You permanently marked your skin for me,

Rome. I wanted to do the same for you.”

He got his good arm around me and pulled me fully into the tub with him so that we were hugging but

so much more.

“This, Cora … this is as perfect as two people can be.”

He was right; he was also aroused and sexually frustrated because the hug quickly turned from a sweet

moment to something much hotter. The fingers of his hand snaked into the back of my damp shorts and his

mouth latched on to the side of my neck and started to play with the sensitive skin there.

“You’re gonna have to do all the work, Half-Pint.”

That wouldn’t be a problem, not with his straining cock practically calling my name and his questing

fingers already working their way to the place where I needed them most.

“We’re going to flood the bathroom.” He pushed up and helped me get my shorts and panties off. A

wave of water cascaded over the edge of the tub and soaked the floor.

“Who cares?” He was all impatient male and grabby hands. Rome was big, the bathtub was not. By the

time he finagled me to where he wanted me, more water was on the floor than there was covering him and

swirling around our hips. I made sure to keep most of my weight on my knees and braced myself, using my

arms on the porcelain instead of on him like I typically did. His eyes flared up at me when all the best parts

of me lined up with all the demanding parts of him. I was starting to rethink my stance on the beard when

his mouth closed over the tip of one breast, making me gasp. It tickled, but not in a funny way, in an
oh my

God don’t stop ever
kind of way.

It was a rough ride. Even with me trying to be as gentle and as careful as possible, there was no missing

that mixed in with his grunts of pleasure there were gasps of pain. Trying to have sex with jacked-up ribs

just wasn’t a good idea, but my guy wasn’t one to give up, and his determination and perseverance were

two of the things I loved most about him, especially when it meant he had to get really creative and

inventive with his one good hand in order to keep me distracted so that I didn’t call the entire episode off in

order to save him unnecessary pain.

I dropped my forehead so that it was touching his and lifted my arms so that they were resting loosely

across his shoulders. The water swirling around where we were so intimately joined was warm. Rome was

warmer. On every glide up and every slide down, I made sure that he could see how I felt shining through

our locked gaze. I didn’t just see him and all that he was: to me he was the only thing worth looking at. I

knew by what was staring back at me in the endless depth of those blue eyes that he felt the exact same

way, and that was undeniably precious.

We’d never had sex that was slow and agonizingly drawn out. There was something to be said for the

anticipation, the heady throb between my legs, and the pulse at the base of my neck. There was reverence in

the way we touched each other, like we both knew just how lucky we were to be able to touch each other

like this still. Every brush of his mouth across my skin, every nip of teeth against a tender place, reminded

me that I had almost lost him and this was life-changing and life-affirming. With each up-and-down drag

and pull of aroused skin against pulsing flesh, I could see the vein in his neck and the muscle at the side of

his mouth twitch. It was the best kind of torture and probably did more to make him feel better than any of

the medication he was currently on. Even if he was normally a more hands-on-type lover, there was no

mistaking the fact that he needed this right now.

In typical Rome fashion, all the sexy wait-for-it was only enough for a few minutes. Narrowing his

eyes, he flashed me a wicked grin and drove those talented fingers between us so that they were hooked

around my ring and pressing against my clit. There was no holding out against that kind of sensual assault

and it had the desired effect. I forgot we were supposed to be taking it easy and went to work getting us

both off in a matter of minutes. It was more of a sweet cresting than a brain-boggling explosion like it

normally was, but it still made my limbs heavy and the rest of me flush with satisfied pleasure. Anything

this man wanted to give me was going to end with both of us smiling, there was no doubt about it.

I giggled a little bit and rested my cheek on his shoulder. His thumb left the metal between my legs and

skated up my ribs to stroke lovingly back and forth across my new tattoo. I could feel the edge of his blunt

fingernail trace the outline of his name even though he couldn’t see it because I was lying entirely on top of

him.

“You okay?”

He grunted and wiggled the fingers on his bad side so that he could stroke my thigh.

“Better than okay. Doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. Sex makes everything better.”

I sighed because it might have felt great, but his eyes were darker than normal with shadows of

discomfort and those white lines of pain were back next to his eyes. I tried to disengage from him as

carefully as possible, which only led to getting the rest of the bathwater on the floor. I just shook my head

and wrapped myself up in a fluffy towel. He was cradling his injured side and his thick thigh muscle was

clenching and unclenching involuntarily. He looked sated but not in any kind of hurry to move.

He stroked a hand over his still-furry face and looked up at me in question.

“Thought you wanted this gone?”

I considered him thoughtfully for a second, then reached down both hands to help him lever himself

up. We almost ended up back in a tangled heap in the tub due to the wet floor and his unwieldy bulk, but

somehow I got him to his feet and a towel wrapped around his trim waist.

“I think I might want you to keep it until you’re all the way healed up.”

I got him to the bed and scooted around the room, throwing on some stretchy yoga pants and an

oversized T-shirt so I could clean up the tsunami we left in the bathroom. I could feel his eyes follow me as

I bopped around.

“Why?”

I froze for a second and looked at him over my shoulder. Was he really going to make me spell it out

for him? I could tell by the half grin dancing around his mouth that he already knew.

“Why what?”

“Why keep it if you don’t like it?”

He always had to have the last word, so I slid up next to his hip on the bed, yanked on the long hairs at

the tip of his chin, looked him dead in the eye, and told him, “It tickles. I want to know what it feels like

when you can get yourself back down between my legs. Can’t wait, big guy.”

The blue in his eyes blazed so bright and hot I was surprised steam didn’t start to come up off of the

water droplets still clinging to his damp skin. I laughed and pushed up off the bed, only to be stopped with

his hand on my wrist. His look was serious but his voice was soft when he told me:

“You are everything to me, Cora.”

Seriously … and I worried about him not being the perfect guy? If that was what imperfect got me, I

was the luckiest girl in the world. I was going to tell him I felt the same way but he tugged me over him,

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