59
HANA
I’d barely sleptlast night because Roman spent most of it inside me, demanding I tell him I loved him over and over like it was his new favourite sound. I glanced over at where he was head down, poring over something on his laptop, I guessed had something to do with me.
My heart warmed as I watched him, realising that this man was mine, that he wanted to help, that he knew everything about me and was still choosing me. A man who had hunted me down because my brother asked him to watch me. Two words, and I became his sole focus. And he’d watched me for six years, been celibate all that time, tattooed my fingerprints on his cock like I owned him before I’d even met him.
I should be horrified—this man took stalking to a whole new level—but I wasn’t. I was touched. I’d always wanted someone to choose me; to feel like I was enough, and Roman had given me that.
He was right—he was a walking red flag, but he was my walking red flag, and I was so glad to have him and his merry band of psychos on my side. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel alone.
My phone beeped where it was charging on the side, and I moved closer to read the message.
“It’s Amber. She’s worried about me and wants to come over. Is it okay to tell her I’m here and not at home?” I checked with Roman.
“Yeah, course, if that’s what you want. Maybe don’t tell her about the attempt on your life or that your past is coming back to haunt you.” He winked before returning his attention to the computer.
“Haunt is the right word since apparently the person doing this is dead or missing presumed dead, if it’s the little penpal,” I mumbled, sounding as pissed about all this as I felt, while I typed back a response to Amber, telling her to come to Roman’s.
I put my phone back down and wandered over to him.
“Any news?” I asked, standing next to him. He raised his eyes to mine, pushing back the chair and tapping his knee. I sat in his lap, the T-shirt of his I was wearing riding up, exposing my thighs. Roman wasted no time, dragging his fingers over my exposed flesh, sending a rush of arousal flooding my underwear.
“Wren and Lev are narrowing the field. They’ve excluded lots of people from the original list—dead, living abroad, had digital alibis, like they used their credit card, or we have CCTV footage of them elsewhere at the time of the other murders, but there’s still plenty to get through. Preston ‘helped’ a lot of people.”
I winced at the sentence because I heard his implication: Preston helped a lot of people, so I helped them too.
I dropped my head. “I am sorry,” I whispered.
“Hey.” He squeezed my thigh, so I looked at him again. “You were coerced. You stopped. That wasn’t meant as a dig, Hana. I know you’re a good person.”
I scoffed, dusting my fingers over his temple. “I pushed you down the stairs. I jumped back into action when Preston told meto, I faked that kidnapping picture and forced you to stay with me at gunpoint. God, I handcuffed you to a bed and fucked you.”
He banded his arm around my waist as his eyes darkened, and his cock hardened beneath me. “Okay, so you’re a little morally grey, but you act out of necessity, not hate or anger. I put cameras in your home and watched you sleep. Am I a bad person?”
I quirked my brow playfully, not giving him an answer. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, forcing me to straddle him, his tented jeans pressing against the seam of my pussy with the perfect amount of pressure.
“Fine,” he huffed out as his lips met my neck, dragging open mouth kisses down my throat as he rocked me over his length. “We’ve both done questionable things, but for good reasons,” he said in between kisses. “You were trying to survive Preston and his threats to sell you to whoever would pay the most for the pleasure of your virginity. I was protecting you for a friend I believed sacrificed his life for mine.”
“When you put it that way…” I buried my fingers in his hair, keeping him close to my skin, needing him to keep touching me because every kiss was erasing my past and reminding me that I deserved a future.
“When I put it that way—” He didn’t get to finish as there was a knock at the door.
“Amber,” I sighed, feeling instantly bad because I was looking forward to seeing my friend, but I would have preferred an orgasm or two before she arrived. Instead, I stood, rushing to the front door and realising I only had a T-shirt on. I opened it, tugging down the hem so it was less offensive.
“Make yourself at home,” I yelled without really looking at her as I ran back through the room to change.
She laughed. “Hi to you too, bestie. Hurry up. I have doughnuts with sprinkles.”
60
ROMAN
Hana ranfrom the room while I pulled my chair back under the table to discreetly adjust my aching cock.
“Hi, Roman,” Amber announced, placing a large cake box on the counter. “You working?”
I twisted the laptop so she couldn’t see the screen. She wouldn’t have been able to work out what I was doing, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I didn’t want anyone to know what Hana had been involved in, which was why I’d spoken to Sean and Wren this morning to agree to strip all trace of her involvement from history. I’d not wanted to tell her until it was done, but after my team worked their magic, there would be no way anyone could link her to the crimes Preston committed when we sent the information to the police. And we would be sending it all. Everyone he helped would get their comeuppance, even if it was long overdue.
