We were actually going after The Order, I was going to be a fucking mother, and most of the people from my past were dead.
All in all, life wasn’t too bad.
I was damn near frothing at the mouth knowing I’d get to spill blood. We came back to the room to do one last sweep and Romero felt the need to give me an unnecessary number of safety rules and tips.
I’d never jeopardize Baby S, but like he said, I wasn’t handicapped.
I could cut someone’s throat open and drink a protein smoothie at the same time.
“You ready?” he asked, hooking a duffel bag over his shoulder.
“Can you put that down a sec?”
He gave me an imploring look, slowly lowering the bag back down to the floor.
I took his hands in mine, tilting my head back and never breaking eye contact. My skin suddenly felt sensitive and there was a flutter in my stomach.
“You’ve made me such a girl,” I grumbled.
“You’re welcome,” he smirked.
I think we were having a moment. That thought had me ready to run to the other side of the room. I didn’t. I gathered my lady balls and gave him the truth, hoping like hell I wasn’t fucking myself.
“You asked me if I loved you the other day and I wanted you to know, I don’t know what love is. No one’s ever loved me. I’m not even sure if I believe in it. But if there was anyone that could make me, it would be you. I love chocolate. I love dick. And whatever I feel for you trumps both without any question.” It wasn’t some deep proclamation. I couldn’t force myself to vomit flowery words out of my mouth, but it was something.
Whatever I felt for him was overwhelming. It consumed me. He was all I could think about no matter what I was doing. I wanted to say it was love, because what else would it be?
What I felt for Tilly, who was really a lying bitch named Tiffany, wasn’t even on the stratosphere of what I felt for him.
He didn’t say anything for what felt like hours, staring like I hadn’t just made myself vulnerable. My brain told me to backtrack. This was Romero, the man that took pride in turning the Badlands into his own personal hell. Did I really just confess to wanting to love him when I didn’t know the real definition of the word?
I wished I’d had a mother around to teach me how these things worked.
It was bad enough realizing how damn sheltered I’d always been from the real world.
It was hard going about life when I’d been left to figure it all out on my own.
“I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never...I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fucking apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He pulled his hands free and his arms wrapped around my waist.
“I don’t believe in any of that love at first sight bullshit—I don’t know what the fuck love is, either—but ever since you looked at me with those big blue eyes, I’ve been fucking positive you’re my soul mate.
“You’re mine, I’m yours. It’s that fucking simple, baby. We can figure everything else out together.”
“Together.” I confirmed, trying to contain the ridiculous grin ready to explode across my face.
“Ugh, this is over the top cheesy. I feel like you should call me a slut, bend me over the desk and then fuck me so we’re normal again.”
He let out one of his rare laughs and it warmed my entire being. I could sit and stare at him for hours on end but when he laughed or truly smiled, I was completely captivated.
“You and I will never be normal, but if you want to be a slut, get down on your knees and wrap your lips around my dick.”
I smirked and did just that, sinking down to the carpet.
It took me a full minute to free him from his jeans with no assistance. I gripped his dick in my hand and stroked with my thumb. It was soft and smooth, encased in a patch of dark hair.
With the tip of my finger, I traced a circle around his barbell and then down a vein. He twitched against my palm.