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Black Obsidian(35)

By:Victoria Quinn


In the fifth inning, I mentioned Rome for the first time. “What does Rome say about me?”

Christopher smirked before he took a drink of his beer. “You want the scoop?”

“Yeah. Is she really into me? Or do I need to step up my game?”

“Nah, your game is fine. She’s smitten.”

Yes. “Cool.” Rome kept a noticeable wall between us, keeping me a safe distance away at all times. But when we fooled around, she couldn’t get enough of me. She pulled me harder into her, either my hips or my face. “Sometimes, I can’t read her.”

“You and every guy in America.” He chuckled at his own comment then reached into his chip bag. “Even I can’t read her sometimes. She puts on a brave front for the world, but she’s just scared like the rest of us.”

“Scared of what?”

“You know, getting hurt. Making mistakes. Shit like that.”

I wanted to know more, and I knew I’d have to push for answers. A gentleman would wait for the lady to spill her secrets, but I wasn’t a gentleman. I was after her for one reason only—to be her Dom. “Bad breakup?”

“You could say that.” He kept his eyes on the game and didn’t give me any more information. He brushed off the questions like an experienced lawyer deflecting an incriminating interrogation from the judge. “Rome’s had a hard life. She acts tough, because she is, but underneath that armor, she’s just as vulnerable as anyone else.”

I drank my beer and tried to think of my best move. This guy was loyal to his sister, and he wouldn’t tell me a damn thing unless he thought it was necessary. “Sometimes it seems like she’s trying to push me away. I told her I was her boyfriend, and she seemed uncomfortable by the thought. When I wanted to move our relationship forward, she hit the brakes. I haven’t dated in a long time, but I know that’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

“Why not?” He winked. “You’re a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy?”

“Something like that.” I wouldn’t count my time with Isabella as a relationship, just an arrangement. I hadn’t asked a woman on a date in so long I couldn’t remember the last time. It was something I had no interest in until that fireball walked into my life and turned my world upside down.

“I always thought when I met the right one, I’d keep my dick in my pants.” He chewed on a chip loudly, crunching it to pieces between his teeth. “But that hasn’t happened to me yet. I want kids and a house outside the city someday. But she’s gotta be hot, you know? Like, so hot that the sex never gets old.”

“I understand.”

“Is that what Rome is to you?”

The question unnerved me because it was so personal. I didn’t want to lie through my teeth and pretend I was looking for a woman to settle down with. Monogamy was doable with the right partner but romance and marriage…never gonna happen. Christopher basically asked me if Rome was the one I’d been searching for. “I’m not sure. All I know is, I’ve never met anyone like her, and I want more than what she’s giving me.”

“Well, I hope you have a lot of time on your hands because it’s gonna be a while. But if it makes you feel any better, she’s been easy on you. Other guys get maybe a date or two before she pulls the plug. And the guys are usually pretty nice too.”

What was different about me?

“So it’s safe to say you’ve got the best shot of any guy in this city. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

All I was doing was making her mine.

And she would be mine—eventually.



When I was sitting at my desk at work the following morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rome. I pictured her underneath me, her wrists secured to my headboard with her legs wrapped around my waist. I was thrusting inside her, dominating that pussy and making it mine. The thought was so arousing I was hard in my slacks and seriously tempted to jerk off.

Fooling around was satisfying, but it would never compare to fucking. I couldn’t wait for that moment when she finally spread her legs and allowed me to take her—to take all of her until there was nothing left.

It’d only been two weeks.

Two more to go.

It felt like a goddamn eternity.

I straightened my tie before I pulled out my phone and texted her. Sweetheart. I commanded her attention before I elaborated, wanting all her focus like the Dom I was.

The three dots appeared. Sexy.

My eyebrow immediately arched at the nickname. I was expecting a question in response, not a tease. You’re coming over for dinner tonight. Be there at 7.