Filed to story: My Dark Romeo (Dallas & Romeo) Drama Story
First, we’d make beautiful babies. No way anything that came from his sperm and my eggs could be anything less than aesthetic perfection.
Second, from what I’d gathered, neither Romeo nor I cursed. Our child would exit the womb speaking like a fourteenth-century duke, hopefully sans the misogyny.
And third…there was no third.
Lord, even the second kind of sucked.
I slumped in my seat, depressed.
After takeoff, Zach spoke to me first. Romeo appeared to be typing emails on his phone, and Oliver’s snores drifted from the couch.
“You’re not suicidal, are you?” He didn’t seem like he genuinely cared, but the fact that he’d asked made me want to sag with relief.
At least someone recognized the horridness of my situation.
I shrugged. “Murderous, more like. Why should I be punished for Romeo’s bad behavior?”
“Potomac is nice.”
I shot him a glare. “What’s so nice about it?”
“Its proximity to New York, mostly.”
That earned him a chuckle.
Why couldn’t Zach force me into marriage?
And what was it about tall, dark, and handsome men with the emotional capacity of an ingrown toenail?
“Don’t encourage her, Zach,” Romeo warned. “Once she starts talking, it’s impossible to stop her.”
Since my future husband was dead set against having me around, I got up and slipped into the cockpit. I’d always wanted to visit one. Growing up, my parents thought it uncouth to peek inside just because we always flew first class.
I slid past the door. “Mind if I look around?”
“Not at all.” The co-pilot waved. “I’m Scott.”
“And I’m Al.” The pilot saluted me with two fingers.
I explored the small space, the many buttons, the thick white clouds we pierced through, surrounded by an inky night.
“You can sit by my side if you’d like.” Scott scooted to give me space. “A bit tight, but you can squeeze in.”
I hesitated.
Momma wouldn’t approve. It was improper to sit so close to a man.
Then I remembered I was engaged to be married to the reaper of hearts himself, and being inappropriate was my new lifelong goal.
“Okay.” I slipped into his seat, cemented to his side.
I leaned down, inventorying the array of buttons and screens. A map lit up his side.
My fingers fluttered along a central console full of little switches. “It looks like a spaceship.”
“Nice, huh?” I heard his smile.
Al released an impatient sigh. I had a feeling Al wasn’t a fan of his co-pilot cozying up with me.
Scott jerked a thumb to his right. “Wait till you see the view from my window. Underneath, it’s a solid white blanket of clouds.”
“I want to see.” I leaned across his body and glanced down the cool glass.
He was right.
Fluffy clouds curled over one another, thick and dense like snow.
“Wow,” I breathed out. “That’s amazing.”
Another thing that was amazing was how my boobs pressed against Scott’s lap in this position. His face was in my hair. I realized I harbored pent-up sexual rage from yesterday’s encounter with my dear fiancé.
He never did finish the job.
I was about to straighten back into a sitting position when the cockpit door flung open.
Of course, it was Romeo.
And, of course, from his vantage, it looked like I was sucking Scott off. My head in his lap, my whole body concealing his lower half.
Despite the eternal urge to piss him off, I didn’t quite want him to think I went that far.
I rose to my feet, meeting Romeo’s gaze.
As always, his expression was resigned and dead.
Obstinate silence filled the small space.
Scott broke it first.
“Mr. Costa, I can assure you it is not what it look-“
“Sweetheart.” Romeo surprised me by lacing his hand around my lower back and drawing me to his chest. He grinned, but he didn’t seem amused at all. It looked like someone had carved that smile with a Swiss knife. “Enjoying the cock…pit?”
My goodness, he really thought I’d given Scott sexual favors.
Well, I sure as heck wouldn’t fall all over myself, trying to explain my behavior.
Scott and Al were now on their feet, staring at him expectantly.
I smiled, ignoring Romeo’s tight jaw. “Yes.”
“Yes?” He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for an apology, an explanation, anything.
“I enjoyed it very much. Thanks, boys.” With a toss of my hair, I marched out of the cockpit, as dignified as one could be barefoot and in a house gown.
Romeo stayed back a few minutes while I loitered around the snack bar, munching on wasabi peas. Oliver and Zach shared a chess game in the corner, sparing me no attention.
About fifty packs of luxury gum formed militant stacks across the table.
What was up with my fiancé’s oral fixation?
Maybe he had bad breath. A side effect of being full of crap.
Suddenly, rough, warm fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck from behind. I sucked in a breath while my future husband angled my face upward to meet his frosty grays.
He towered over me, his chest flush with my back.
I thought he would comment about what had happened in the cockpit, but he surprised me by saying, “Might I remind you, Miss Townsend, that your father confiscated all your cards after you got caught riding my fingers? Your ability to eat, shower, clothe yourself, and sleep under a roof rests solely upon my good will. Govern yourself accordingly.”
“Are you done?” I yawned. “I’d like to sit down and read my book.”
“And I have just the place to put you in.”
He snatched the Anna Karenina copy I’d left on a table and guided me to his recliner. I followed, confused, as he sat, handing me my book.
I quirked an eyebrow. “You want me to stay standing?”
He shook his head no, grabbed my hand, and began lowering me between his legs.
My eyes flared.
Would he make me service him in front of his friends? Force me to give him oral sex as punishment for what he thought he’d seen with Scott?
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Zach’s hand freezing, a rook in it, hovering over the chessboard. Oliver, too, gawked at Romeo like he’d completely lost it.
I didn’t care if he tossed me out of the plane.
I refused to do it.