The storm in his eyes is far too attractive and I squeeze my thighs together when he plants one hand above my head and towers over me.
“I meant what I said to your dad,” he murmurs. “I will always be on your side. But if you put yourself in danger like that again, you and I are going to have problems.”
“Problems?”
“Yes.Problems. The kind where you find yourself over my knee.”
My core clenches, a hazy breath slipping from my lips. “Doesn’t sound much like a problem to me.”
His chuckle, low and dark, rolls over my skin. “It will after I’ve played with your pretty little cunt and then left you throbbing. Bad girls don’t get to come.”
My stomach twists. I want to play along but him calling me bad rankles because I may have finally got my dad on side but there was a reason he doubted me. I’m not sure I’ve ever been good, and I can claim all I want that I’ve changed, that I’m all grown up, but I’m still standing here, lying to Roman when all he’s ever done is protect me.
I drop my gaze to his chest. “What if I don’t know how to be good?”
“Lola, hey.” Roman lifts my chin with two fingers and inspects my face. I don’t know what he finds there, whether he sees how deep my question goes. Whether he realizes that every wild, stupid act I did is carved into my bones. That every time someone called me irresponsible it scraped away the marrow until all that remained is this fragile skeleton I cover up with pure bravado.
I’m so desperate to prove to everyone that I’ve changed but honestly, I’m not sure I have. And today was a reminder I did not need.
Whatever Roman sees, he doesn’t look too happy about it. “Okay, you’re done for the day. I’m taking you home.”
“I am home.”
He shakes his head and twines his fingers through mine. “I’m taking you tomyhome, Firebird.” He pulls me towards him and his chest rumbles against mine as his lips brush the shell of my ear. “I’m going to prove to you just how good you can be.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Roman
Lola, wait.
No. It’s good. We’re good. I’ve had too much to drink and it didn’t mean anything, right?
Right.
- Conversation between Lola, age 18 and Roman, age 25, the night of the big bad thing
I don’t wasteany time once I finally get Lola back to my place, carrying her straight up the stairs to my bed.
The temptation to call itourhome, back in the coffee shop, was so fucking strong but Lola already looked far too unsure of herself and all I want to do is kiss away every trace of doubt from her beautiful face.
I hate that, once again, someone else’s judgements have dulled her fire. Lola is my sun and I want to bask in her glow all day long, but I can’t do that when the shadows take over.
I’m so fucking angry at Shaun for what he said to Lola, even if part of me still wants to spank her ass her raw for going to the MC compound without me.
It's taking everything in me not to tuck Lola safely away and hunt through the entire country till I get my hands on RobfuckingCarson. The bastard needs to go back to rotting in prison but I’m no good to Lola if I end up behind bars myself and right now, she needs me.
I lower her onto my bed and she kneels on top of the gray comforter. One of the straps on the skimpy little sundress she’s wearing has slipped off her shoulder, her summer tanned skin a siren to my need to lick every inch of her. I trail my gaze up her body, taking in every dip and curve—the swell of her breasts, the hollow of her throat—before capturing her smoky eyes with mine.
“You realize this is it, right?” I warn. “Now I’ve got you in my bed, I’m not ever letting you go.”
Her breath hitches and I worry I’ve scared her but then she says. “You could tie me to this bed, Roman. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
I peak a brow. “Now there’s an idea. But I’m not tying you up today, sweetheart. I won’t need to.” I curl one hand around her hip and with the other, tap two fingers against her temple. “I think somewhere in here, you still think you’re nothing but trouble.”
She lifts a shoulder, a slight, insecure shrug, but her eyes blaze. “Aren’t I?”
I smirk. “Maybe.” I’ll give her that. “But only in the best ways.” I let my smile fall away, needing her to take what I say next seriously. “Your parents are wrong, Lola. Your dad was wrong today.” He was right to apologize, but I know first-hand that the damage was already done.
