The silence between us got thick as hell. Rome stepped forward, close enough that I had to look up to keep eye contact. “You tryna say somethin’?”
I didn’t answer. Because deep down, I wasn’t ready to accuse him. Not yet. Not until I figured out what King was trying to tell me. Rome stepped in closer. That heavy silence between us shifted when he reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a thick knot of money.
“Here,” he said, pressing it into my hand.
I looked down at the stack of blue faces. “What’s this for?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“For whatever you want.” His arms slid around my waist, and he leaned in, lips brushing my jaw. “I know this week gets hard for you.” His voice dropped. “I’m sorry for makin’ shit worse, shorty.”
I sighed, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth moved down my neck. He kissed that soft spot under my ear, tongue slick, breath warm. My body reacted before my heart could argue. “You always do this,” I whispered.
“Do what?”
“Try to distract me with sex and dollars.”
He chuckled against my skin. “You love both.” His lips met mine before I could say anything else. Tongue. Breath. Pressure. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. “You know I love you, right?”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I… I know.”
He scooped me up and carried me upstairs. By the time I hit the bed, I was already breathing heavily. He knelt between my legs without saying a word and slid my jeans off like they offended him. He didn’t even take my shirt off. He just peeled my thong off and parted my thighs, placing his palms on the insides. Then he kissed my pussy like he really missed me. He dragged his tongue up my slit real slow, barely touching my clit. Just a tease. Just enough to make my back arch.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
He locked eyes with me. “You know what’s up.”
I nodded, gripping the sheets. Then he went in on my pussy with that full pressure and slow circles that had my legs trembling by the third pass. I moaned out loud, head falling back. He sucked on my clit like he was tryna pull a confession out of me. His beard scratched my thighs. His fingers dug into my hips like he didn’t want me goin’ nowhere.
“Shiiit, Rome…”
“That’s it,” he muttered between licks. “Don’t fight it.” I gripped his head, legs tightening. He pulled back just enough to spit directly on my clit, then tongue-flicked it so fast I damn near choked on my own breath. “You tryna run?” he asked, grabbing my thigh when I jerked. “You already know I don’t like that shit.”
“I… I can’t…”
“You can.” He pressed his tongue flat against me and held it there, shaking his head side to side. “Cum for me and stop playin’.” I cried out, loud and breathless, legs shaking, stomach tightening like a knot was unraveling inside me. “Don’t hold back,” he whispered. “Let me hear that shit.”
And I did. The orgasm hit hard. Full-body. Eyes-rolling. Back-lifting. Moans spilling outta my mouth like secrets. When it was over, he kissed my thigh and stood up, walking off towards the bathroom.
“I’m finna shower and go meet Scootz at the lounge for a meetin’,” he said, voice regular again. “You gon’ be straight?”
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. I lay there staring at the ceiling, legs still open, pulse still jumping. And even with the money beside me, the nut in my chest, and the sheets damp under my back… I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something I didn’t. And somewhere in this house, King was watching.
I felt Rome’s hand sliding up my thigh and I blinked, groggy, face half in the pillow. The sun was peeking through the blinds just enough to kiss the edge of the bed. I rolled over slowly and looked up at him, standing there already dressed in a fly ass designer suit and shoes.
“What time is it?” I asked, voice scratchy.
“Late enough, but I ain’t wanna leave without seein’ you smile first.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, then motioned toward the tray he set down on the nightstand.
I sat up, confused, eyes still adjusting. On the tray was a mini spread of my favorite breakfast. There were buttery-ass grits, scrambled eggs with cheese, turkey bacon on the side, and a biscuit. There was even a tiny jar of strawberry jelly sitting next to the napkin and a bottle of orange banana juice.
“Who cooked this?” I asked, eyebrows raised. Rome never touched a stove, but when he wanted to show love, he paid attention. Or paid somebody else to do it.
He smirked. “Smith’s Diner. I told ‘em exactly how to make it.”
“You tryna be sweet this mornin’?” I asked, already taking a bite of the biscuit.
“Just makin’ sure you start your day right.”
I didn’t say anything. Just kept chewing slowly, avoiding his eyes. He pulled something else from his hoodie pocket and laid it on the bed. It was a long black velvet box, and I knew there was jewelry inside.
