Roman’s hands clench into fists. “He could offer me the fucking moon and it wouldn’t make him any more of a father to me.”
Hope flickers inside of me and I finally manage to look up at him. The lines of his face are rigid, tension pulling tight at his eyes. Even angry, he’s so damn beautiful. The rough shadow on his jaw starred in every one of my teenage fantasies and I’m trying to convince myself last night wasn’t too good to be true.
“You still have the contract,” I say.
“Because I hadn’t got around to throwing it in the bin.”
He rounds the island to stand in front of me and flips to the last page of the contract. “See, it’s not signed. And it won’t be.” He picks up the fancy papers, the knuckles on his right hand red and raw, and tears the contract in half.
The beat returns to my heart. “You know it’s called a trash can, right? Not a bin.”
Roman’s laugh brushes across my face as he hangs his head. “Yeah, Firebird. I know.”
The nickname soothes me a little, but I still can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m going to lose Roman when I’ve only just got him. I can’t have spent six years running away from him to lose him now. I push down my cuticles with the nail of my thumb until Roman lifts my chin.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you about my dad visiting.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Honestly, I didn’t want him anywhere near you.”
I snag his good hand and play with his fingers. Roman’s always been like this. When we were kids Mase, or more often I, would inevitably come home with some sort of drama and talk it through with our parents but Roman never did. I used to think he was too much of a golden boy to have any problems but maybe he was just too used to dealing with shit by himself.
“You don’t have to do everything alone, Roman,” I say, locking my fingers together behind his neck.
His hands settle on my hips, his thumb dipping under the shirt of his I’m wearing and drawing circles on my skin. “Don’t I?”
I squeeze my thighs together as the sensations go straight to my core and shake my head. “No. I want to be here for you.”
Roman tilts his head and I hate how caught off guard he looks, like no-one has ever wanted to take care of him before. After a moment, his eyes soften. “I’m having dinner with my father on Friday to tell him I’m not taking the job. Come with me?”
I smirk up at him. “To have dinner with the man who, according to you, always gets what he wants, as you tell him you’re turning down a million-pound job offer? Sounds like fun.”
“Fuck, you’re right. You should stay here.”
I shake my head again. “Nuh uh, no way. You’ve invited me now, no takesie-backsies. Besides, awkward family dinners seem to be par for the course for us.”
Roman matches my smile and steps in towards me until our hips press together and I’m trapped against the island. “Are you and I good?”
I bring my hands to his chest, the scattering of brown hair there tickling my fingers. “Yes. I’m sorry I pried. And eavesdropped. But in my defense, drunk Mase is really loud.”
Roman hums. “You know how good girls apologize?”
I narrow my gaze at the mischief in his eyes, but he dips his head and brings his lips to my ear. The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers through me as he whispers the answer. “On their knees.”
I stare daggers at him as he smirks at me, but my nails dig into his chest, my fingers curling against the pleasure his words sparked.
I know Roman’s only teasing but I decide I’m not quite done proving I can be good. So I press on his chest until he steps back and I have space to lower myself to the floor.
The wood is rough on my knees, but I kind of like it, and I really like it when Roman gathers my hair in his hands, brushing it back into a ponytail and twisting it around his fist. He tugs, tilting my head back so he can look me in the eyes. “Tap my thigh if you need to stop, okay?”
I nod my head as best I can and hook my fingers in the waistband of his pajamas. I pull them down his thighs and Roman’s hard length springs free.
He’s silk over steel as I wrap my hands around him and swirl my tongue across the tip.
Roman jerks, his hand tightening in my hair.
I smile against the firm heat of him. Seeing how my touch affects him makes me want to drag this out. I run my thumb over the pre-cum beading at his head then lean back and take my thumb in my mouth, sucking it clean.
