“Calm down, Juliet. This isn’t worth getting upset about,” he told her with a sincerity that was a little too endearing to stay mad at. “Life’s pretty friggin’ mean most of the time. People got real problems and real shit to cry about, but this isn’t it. This is the good stuff, and I’ve been kicked by life one too many times to just ignore it when something sweet falls in my lap.”
She sighed, feeling her defenses falling as easily as they had the last time she’d tried to resist him. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“’Cause I’m a romantic.”
“I ain’t sweet.”
“Yeah, you are.” His voice dropped down, low and husky. “I tasted you. Twice. I know you’re sweet, and I can’t stop thinking about it.” 6
Jules sucked in a sharp breath she knew he heard, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the icy window. Her body throbbed. Her pussy ached. As crazy as it was, she missed him, and she’d just met him.
She wanted to think this couldn’t be real, not this fast, not with this level of yearning.
But hadn’t she just been crying over her loneliness? Romeo was every bright color in a life that’d been nothing but dull and organized until he fell into it. It was terrifying and dangerous, and she felt alive because of it.
“Talk to me,” she whispered into the phone. “Turn me on.”
“You want me to tell you I’ve been jerking off to the image of you spread out on that bed in Las Vegas, blonde hair on the pillow, those long legs open wide…waiting for me?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice still soft and breathy, the white-hot rush of lust making her entire body tingle. “Then what’d you do?”
“I crawled onto the bed, and I tasted heaven.” His voice was rough with a catch of desire. “You sounded good. Real good. It makes me hard just thinking about it.” Jules wasn’t seeing the street anymore. She was seeing Romeo in Las Vegas, pulling off his clothes for her, undoing the button to his slacks with a confidence that was very well deserved. “Are you?”
“Hard? Fuck, yes.”
“Will you jerk off for me?” she asked, swallowing roughly against the rush of desire as she thought of that long, thick cock of his. She wanted to be the one stroking it and sucking him until he let go. “I wanna taste you too. We never got a chance, and I’m mad ’bout it.”
Romeo groaned, making it obvious he was doing what she asked. He was jerking off, and he was thinking of her while he did it. With the exception of their one night in Las Vegas, Jules had never been more turned on in her life.
7
He groaned again, his words suddenly breathy with pleasure. “Touch yourself for me. Lemme hear you.”
Jules didn’t even argue; she just turned around and pressed her back against the glass. Then she spread her legs wide on the window seat, remembering Las Vegas as she slipped her hand beneath the lining of her pajamas. She was wearing long-sleeved red flannel, which wasn’t very sexy, but it didn’t matter. Tonight she was back in Las Vegas, naked and sweaty with Romeo’s big, powerful body pressing her to the bed.
“God.” Jules moaned, her head falling back against the window. She pushed two fingers deep inside her wet and aching pussy. She curved them up, rubbed against her G-spot, arching her hips against her hand. “I miss your cock.” Romeo sucked in a sharp breath. “It misses you too.”
“I still ache, ya know?” Jules told him, her breathing already sharp and labored, her eyes squeezed shut against the pleasure. “I still feel you.”
“Fuck,” he growled over the slap of his hand against his dick. Jules imagined he did it hard and fast in the same wild, unpredictable way he fought—and fucked.
Jules wanted to give herself one of those long, slow orgasms that curled her toes and left her sweaty no matter how cold it got in this old house. She ignored her clit and focused on her pussy instead, rubbing her fingers against her sweet spot.
“Tell me what you’re doing?” Romeo panted, making it obvious he was close.
Jules told him. She was bold and mouthy and starkly descriptive. Romeo didn’t just love it, he got off on listening to her describe the way she fingered herself, and it was completely euphoric for Jules after a lifetime in a small town that didn’t appreciate her forward nature.
“Touch your clit,” Romeo urged, his voice still breathy with the rising tide of pleasure. “Imagine my mouth’s on you, sucking it, tasting it. Do it fast and imagine my tongue’s rubbing against that pretty pussy of yours. You got the sweetest, prettiest pussy I ever seen, Juliet; did you know that?”