Rome: A Marked Men Novel (13 page)

were up high on his waist and he was driving into me like he was trying to put me through the other side of

the mattress. It was awesome.

The muscles on the side of his neck corded, a fine sheen of sweat pebbled up on those massive pecs,

his biceps bulged just enough to offer a very nice show, and those eyes, man oh man, those eyes lit up like

the fireworks display he had missed on the Fourth. Silver sparks exploded from the center, chasing

midnight-blue lightning as he grunted his release and dropped his forehead to the crook of my neck. He

was careful not to collapse his whole weight on me, careful to set my legs back down, careful to pull out

nice and slow, which made both of us gasp.

He flopped back on his back and we both stared at the ceiling while breathing hard and still not talking.

I wasn’t sure what there was to say. In all my visions of what I was doing, of who I was waiting for, there

had never once been a glimpse of anyone like Rome Archer. I sort of marveled that he seemed to be

blocking out not only the sun, but whatever else was standing on that horizon waiting for me. He was a

problem that literally was going to be too damn big to ignore, not that I wasn’t going to try and do exactly

that until I figured out what in the hell I had just done and what exactly it meant to all my carefully

constructed plans.

CHAPTER 6

Rome

I thought I was dreaming. Somewhere between the haze of blood and death, and the swirly nauseating

feeling of being almost blackout drunk, I had a dream that a pixie came in and saved me from everything. It

was all a blur after the fifth or sixth drink. All I knew was that the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, and

Brite’s gentle, kind reminders that the shitty things in life could not be directly tied to me, were the only

things that kept me from going completely off the rails.

When I pried my eyes open because the sun was bitch-slapping me across the face, I had no idea where

I was. Hell, I barely knew who I was: my head was throbbing, I felt a little like I was going to hurl, and all I

knew was that I was surrounded by wall-to-wall pink. I also had all kinds of soft feminine curves trapped

under me and she smelled like cotton candy and flowers. It had to be a dream because at no point in my

reality did I ever get to wake up after a crap day to end all crap days and have those amazing two-toned

eyes looking up at me with trepidation, but also with a healthy dose of admiration. Therefore it had to be a

dream, and since I was dreaming, I was going to do what I had been dying to do since she called me

Captain No-Fun and smirked at me like she already knew all my dark and dirty secrets. I was going to kiss

that sassy mouth until neither one of us could breathe, until my head stopped hurting, until I forgot what

had put me in such a vulnerable, sorry state in the first place.

Only I had no idea a simple kiss with this tiny, bossy, mouthy girl was going to turn my head around. I

wanted to kiss her because she was cute, and soft, and I really did think she had the prettiest eyes I had ever

seen, but mostly I wanted to kiss her because I knew she would tell me to stop, that she would no doubt

push me away and get worked up into a tizzy of righteous indignation. I was already feeling about as low as

I could, so there was no harm in taking it one step further.

Cora apparently didn’t play by any normal set of rules, though. She did the opposite of what I expected,

and before too long I was too scared to talk, too freaked out to even breathe, because I was worried that

one slight movement in the wrong direction and she would call a halt to the only thing that had made me

feel good in a really long time. It still felt like a dream, but she was so hot, so damn unexpected, it now felt

like a dream come true.

When it was all over, as I lay there panting and trying to think of an appropriate response, because

“thank you” just wouldn’t cut it, she rolled off the other side of the big bed and looked down at me with

eyes that were both bright and shiny and dark and swirling. That dual-color thing really was kind of a trip.

“I’m going to take a shower and then you need to take me to get my car from that hole in the wall you

were at yesterday.”

She turned around to rummage through a tiny closet on the other side of the very pink room and I took

a moment to admire the view. She was lithe, all smooth lines and colorfully decorated skin. She had some

kind of Asian-inspired water-and-fire image tattooed around the top of one thigh that danced almost to her

knee, those flowers on her ribs with the shower of jewels implanted in her skin on her side, and that arm

that had every flower known to man inked on it. She was petite but man, did she pack a punch. Who knew

metal in places I never imagined a chick would want to put it would be so hot, be such an unbelievable

turn-on. Everything about this girl was a surprise.

“Uhh … not that I’m not grateful for it, but how exactly did I end up here?” The
in bed with you
I left

unspoken.

She put on a short robe that had tiny silver stars all over it and looked silky and shiny. She glanced at

me over her shoulder and ran her hands over her short hair. I reached over the side of the bed and started

to pull my jeans back on, but I had to take a second because my head started to throb in time to my

heartbeat.

“The bartender called the shop looking for Rule but he was gone already. He was dealing with the crisis

of being a new homeowner and Nash wasn’t at the apartment. You weren’t in any condition to be left

alone, so I brought you here.”

Not only was she smoking hot but underneath all that sass there was a really big heart. I was a lot to

handle on a good day, and knowing where I had been at yesterday before the booze flooded my system, she

was pretty brave to try and tackle all that on her own. Most people wouldn’t do that for a virtual stranger. I

rubbed hard hands over my supershort buzz cut; this hadn’t been totally awkward thus far, but now it felt

more personal.

She didn’t say anything else, just disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower go on. I found

my shirt wadded up in a pile with my boots and finished getting dressed. I smelled like sex and day-old

booze. I smelled just like Rule used to smell all the time. The wayward thought of my brother had me

absently searching for my phone and my keys. I should have given Brite better instructions before getting

tanked yesterday. Not that Cora seemed in any hurry to try and rake me over the coals, but this had all the

hallmarks of a situation that could go slanted in a heartbeat and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was

something I was forgetting.

Not sure what to do with myself in the outrageously girly room, I decided to brave the wild and go in

search of a glass of water and maybe some painkillers for my head. The house was tiny and cute. Cora’s

eclectic style was on display throughout. The couch was purple, the rugs were polka dot, and I assumed the

massive flat screen and game systems had to belong to Jet because they were the only things in the living

room not splashed with color. I found the kitchen in the back of the house and cringed inwardly when I

saw it wasn’t empty.

Asa was at the little table drinking a cup of coffee and seemingly ignoring his sister, who was grilling

him about something. Both sets of amber eyes got wide when I walked into the room. Asa lifted an

eyebrow and Ayden blinked like she had no idea who I was. I felt an embarrassed flush start to crawl up

my neck and cleared my throat. I wished to God I could remember what, if anything, I had done last night.

“Uh, hey.”

I gratefully accepted the mug of coffee Asa handed to me and propped a hip up on the counter while

they continued to stare at me.

“Is that your truck outside?” I liked Ayden’s voice. It was tinted with just a hint of the South and all soft

and smooth. I liked those long legs of hers in her running pants, too, but Jet was like a brother to me, so

there was no way I would ever admit that aloud.

“Yeah. I needed a DD and Cora decided to be it.”

“You spent the night?”

I didn’t like the third degree, I was used to being on the other side of it.

“Yeah, well, I blacked out in her bed, so there really wasn’t a choice.”

I could see Asa doing the math in his head that Cora hadn’t been on the couch or anywhere else this

morning.

“Interesting.” Asa just chuckled and didn’t say anything, for which I was eternally grateful. There was

just something about the way he looked at you, something about the way he sized you up, that was

unnerving and unsettling.

“What’s interesting?” Cora came in the room smelling clean and fresh. I tried not to notice I had left

whisker burn all along her jaw and throat.

Ayden made a face and handed her a banana. “That you had to take care of the supposedly responsible

Archer last night.”

Cora frowned and moved past me back toward the living room. She had on black shorts with a wide

waist and a black-and-white-striped top that was missing most of the back. The only thing holding it up

seemed to be a giant bow in the back; her rib tattoo with all its winking jewels was totally visible.

“We all have bad days. I need to get my car, are you ready?”

I nodded and handed Asa back the coffee mug. We exchanged a little nod, like he understood the

potential for this to be the most awkward thing in the world, and I gave Ayden a small little grin. She lifted

her eyebrows back at me and took my spot against the counter. I knew as soon as we left they would be

picking apart what my stay-over meant.

I noticed Cora seemed to be moving a little more slowly than her usual hyperkinetic way. I wanted to

ask her if I had hurt her, she was so much smaller than the girls I normally went to bed with, but we

seemed to be on the same page about leaving the deed in no-man’s-land and I didn’t want to rock the boat.

She fished my keys out of her bag and threw them at me.

“I left your wallet and phone in the glove box.”

“Did I do, or say, anything out of hand last night?”

I needed to know if I owed her an apology for anything … well, for anything besides devouring her

like she was my last meal.

“No. You were just sad, really sad.”

I didn’t know if that meant I was feeling sad, or that I was sad as in she felt sorry for me. There was no

way I could look her in the eye ever again if that had been a pity fuck. It was too good, too intense, and if

she just felt sorry for me, I would never be able to look myself in the mirror as a man again.

“I got a phone call from the desert yesterday. It was bad.”

I pulled into the traffic and headed toward Broadway. I needed to find out if I had made an ass out of

myself to Brite and the gang at the bar as well.

“So you said. You also mentioned that you being home makes you somehow responsible for what

happened, which I hope you know is nuts. People whose job it is to fight a war have a high risk that they

may end up injured or killed, you should know that. You being here or there makes no difference in the

matter.”

I sighed and tightened my hands on the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter. When I was deployed my

brother died, when I’m here men in my unit die. I just can’t get away from it and yet somehow every single

time I manage to scrape by just past death’s door.”

She looked at me out of those odd eyes, compassion in the blue one, censure and warning in the coffee-

colored one.

“That’s too much for one person to try and carry around all the time, Rome. You can’t be responsible

for everyone or feel guilty all the time for being one of lucky ones.”

“Like you?” I cut a sideways look at her. “You run around rescuing those guys, Shaw and Ayden, and

now me. You want to save everyone just as much as I do.” I wasn’t going to touch the guilty part of that

statement.

“Yeah, I do, only the difference is that when they suffer from their own choices, I don’t take the

responsibility for it. When Rule was acting like an idiot and walked away from Shaw, that wasn’t my fault.

When Ayden was pretending like she could live without Jet, that had nothing to do with me. I’m just there

to love them through it and pick up the pieces after. You think that you directly impact the bad things and

that’s just stupid.”

She kind of had a point, so I didn’t answer her and as such we spent the rest of the ride in silence. I

turned on the radio and let old Pink Floyd fill the cab. When we got to the bar I pulled around back and she

pointed to a ridiculous Mini Cooper that was painted a bright neon green. Of course that’s what she drove. I

wouldn’t even fit in the thing. I pulled up next to it and killed the engine. I leaned across the seat and dug

my stuff out of the glove box. I didn’t miss the way her breath caught when my arm brushed across her