‘We’ll get through this and be back in London before you know it. All of it. Eddie. Your dad. Whatever’s going on with Priscilla. We’ll take it one step at a time. You’re not on your own.’
The words sink in,not on your own. My breathing settles with his soft touch.
We sit like that for a while, the rain tapping against the windows and his hand moving in slow, gentle patterns over my back. My head rests against his shoulder as I wrap my arms around his neck. The intimacy seems tenfold more intense than the filthy moments we’d shared. Lust is one thing, but this tenderness is a whole world more alien to me. It’s so quiet I can hear his heart beating in his chest. For a hypocritical liar, he sure seems like a pretty decent guy. Unexpectedly so. I’d known that he was hot, but I hadn’t seen any evidence of depth beneath that. But now? This man, whom I forced to my dad’s house, defends me in front of my family and foes, and looks at me like I’m not completely mad.
Eventually, I move enough to look up at him, feeling awkward for hogging his lap.
His face is close enough that I can see the tiny creases beside his eyes from smiling. The way water still clings to his dark lashes. The delicious puffiness of his lips. God, those are the kind of lips a woman could lose herself in.
He lifts a hand and catches one of my curls, twisting it around his finger before tugging lightly. ‘I love that your hair is as wild as you are.’
I snort. ‘It’s a mess.’
‘If you hadn’t noticed, I like it messy, Maggie.’
I graze a finger over his lower lip. ‘Mmm, I did quite enjoy seeing you all messy.’
He laughs before growing more serious. ‘I mean it. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. It takes bravery to stand up for what you believe in and go against the way you were raised. I’ve been running from my childhood my whole life. Yet, you do drastic things to stand up for yourself. It’s kind of hot.’
‘Truth be told, I’m a wimp who can’t stand up to my dad. And a loser who can’t bring myself to kill even the most awful of people. People who deserve it.’
‘In the real world, not having killed anyone is actually a pro.’ Roman’s face breaks into a smile.
The space between us seems to shrink, and I lean in before I can overthink it.
Our lips meet in a tentative kiss. His lips are warm against mine, a tender press between inhales. My heartstutters as I wait with my lips a hairsbreadth from his, my pulse quickening in my throat.
Did he want this?
Or was kissing a push too far? Asking for too much.
I can feel the shape of his mouth as the corners lift. He shifts beneath me, one hand coming up to cup my jaw, while the other tugs me tight around the waist. He gives a feral little noise in the back of his throat that sends a shiver straight through me.
I’m acutely aware of the gentle caress of his thumb over my chin and the solid plane of his chest beneath my hand.
‘Kiss me,’ he pleads, his voice twisted with need.
He doesn’t wait for me to make the move; he pulls my mouth to his, kissing me deeply. My pulse rushes in my ears as his tongue drifts over mine. An undercurrent of hunger threads through his every touch, making me whimper. His mouth demands, and I give, losing myself in the sweet heat of his mouth. Desire leaves me dizzy as we explore each other, letting go of everything but this one perfect moment.
Roman pulls away first, breathing a little harder.
He rests his forehead against mine. ‘I just… need a second. It’s been a crazy night. For both of us.’
Embarrassment washes over me at what feels like a micro-rejection. I nod, cheeks burning, and shift as if to move off him.
He doesn’t let me get far. Scooping me up with an ease that makes me yelp, and tossing me lightly on the bed, before sliding in behind me. With a firm tug, hepulls me back against his chest and cages me against him.
We settle into a tangle of limbs and hair, sleep scratching at my tired eyes.
I stare at his arm, where it’s wrapped around me. It’s strong and lined with veins, warm against the soft fabric of the hoodie I wear. My head thumps with the yo-yoing of my feelings. From partially public orgasms, to firing a gun, to sharing a first kiss, and him pulling away. It’s been a lot to handle.
My thoughts dart around my head, sowing seeds of doubt.
Why would someone like him ever want someone like me? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe his year of online lies taught him to be a great actor, and all this is a ruse. And who could blame him, really, if it is? He’s trapped here because of me.
I lie there, tucked into his hold, and listen to his breathing settle behind me. And I imagine we’re at home. In his bed, or mine. But either way, a million miles from my family, and Eddie, and all the lies.
TWENTY-TWO
