He rounds the counter, his jeans still undone, and I get a little stupefied by the hard planes of his stomach and thin trail of brown hair disappearing beneath his boxers.
“You keep looking at me like that, you’re going to find yourself laid out on this counter with your shirt pushed up and my face between your thighs.”
My eyes flare and my jaw drops. I’m back to not quite believing this is Roman talking to me like that, looking at me like that. His gaze turns hooded as he saunters towards me.
“I— sorry?” I squeak, suddenly feeling all kinds of awkward that the boy who gave me his sweater to tie around my waist when my period started, has just seen me naked.
Holy shit balls, I just fucked my brother’s best friend.
Before the panic can fully set in, Roman threads his fingers through my hair, cradling the back of my head as he kisses me. Soft and slow. His tongue teases my lips and I open for him, sighing into the feeling of existing in the exact same time and place as Roman.
Stars dance in my vision when he pulls back.
“Okay, tell me where you want the shirts.”
“What?” I blink and shake my head. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve got it.”
Roman snags my hand and runs his thumb over my knuckles. “Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I didn’t come here to fuck you. I came because you called for help.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Technically, I called Jarred.”
I collide into Roman as he tugs me towards him and gives my ass a sharp tap. “Well you’ve got me, and trust me, it’s in your best interest to let me help because if you try to balance on top ofthat fucking ladder once more, you’re going to find yourself tied to it again.”
A smile flirts at my lips. “You know your threats could do with some work because so far they’re all way too tempting.”
Roman tries to glower at me but amusement lights his eyes.
I decide to behave for a bit and, with his help, it takes us less than an hour to get the rest of the T-shirts up and the wall finished.
An array of colors hangs in front of me, the shirts overlapping and placed at slight angles so none of it looks too ordered. There are twenty-eight in total, one for every country I visited.
I step back and admire the display. I first came up with this idea lying on my bed in a crappy hostel in Turkey and it hits me again that this is real. An idea that existed only in my head is right in front of me. For the first time since Henry’s fiancée went into labor, I feel like I can do this again.
“Thank you for your help,” I say, turning to Roman.
He arches a brow. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” His gaze dips to the T-shirt I’m wearing. The one I put on after he fucked me so thoroughly.
“I, uh, figured I’d leave this one out.”
Roman shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I want it on the wall. That way, every time you see it, you’ll think of me and how hard I fucked you in it.”
I frown. “You didn’t fuck me in this shirt.”
He sets down the stapler and steps towards me. “No, but I’m about to.”
I laugh as he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the counter. I’m quickly learning Roman is a man of his word as he slides the T-shirt up and buries his face between my thighs.
“So fucking wet for me.” He flattens his tongue and licks the length of my pussy before flicking toe-curling strokes around my clit.
“Roman. Fuck that feels good.” I grip his short hair as my hips lift off the counter and I gasp in pleasure.
“That’s it, babygirl, come for me. Let me taste how fucking sweet you are.” His words vibrate against my clit and send me over the edge. By the time I’ve come down from the high Roman’s got out another condom and positioned the wide head of his cock at my entrance.
His hand fists around the oversized T-shirt on my chest and he pulls on the material, lifting my upper body up off the counter.
“Give me your eyes, Firebird.” He waits till my gaze collides with his then slowly starts to sink inside of me. “You feel that? You feel me filling you up?”
“Yes,” I pant. “God, Roman.”
