Crushedvelvethas all but disappeared because I’m in love with a man who fulfills me more than any sum of money or compliment from a stranger online.
But heknew.
He didn’t tell me.
There’s no disguising the rabid pulsing in his jaw as anything but jealousy. It has the opposite impact on me than I was hoping. Instead of being annoyed that he’s daring to feel like that, I feel my heart soften and ache for him. I feel raw, naked as I stand here in front of him in nothing but a white bikini and tears cooling my cheeks.
“As long as I was the only one who you put your hands on, I’d live with it. You don’t need approval from anyone to do anything, Brielle. I don’t give a fuck if it’s something I’ll have to come to terms with because I want you, and that’s all that matters. You’re here.” He jabs his finger into his chest. “There’s no being withoutyou anymore. If you want to hate me for this, then you can hate me. I’ll love you loud enough that it won’t matter. Shove me away, curse me out, tell me I’m a selfish piece of shit. It. Doesn’t. Matter. The only way you’re going to rid yourself of me is if you explicitly tell me to go. Tell me you want me gone and that you’ll never forgive me. Shove me off your brother’s property, and I’ll let you go.”
He takes steady, wide steps toward me. The distance I put there disappears in a blink, and my feet stick to the ground, unable to find me more. His eyes are narrowed as they cling to my face, demanding and claiming the piece of me that I tried to tuck away, to hide out of fear that they’ll jump back into his hands.
I choke on a whine when his fingers glide up my waist and dig firmly into the bare skin beneath my bikini top. His closeness makes my head swirl and cloud. I stick my hand out to push him away but leave it against his chest, riding the rapid rise and fall as he breathes.
Tears cling to my lashes as he drops his head and brings our brows together, inhaling slowly. “Say it, baby. Tell me to go. Because if you don’t, I’m going to stay here forever.”
“I love you, Roman,” I start, finally speaking the emotions that I’ve felt for so, so long now. “But I need space.”
His grip grows desperate, the press of his fingers clinging tighter, but not painful. Never painful. “How much.”
It’s not a question.
“I need to talk to Wes. About a lot of things. I need to . . . To come to terms with this.”
“The team leaves tomorrow night. I’ll be with them.”
“I know.”
“Five days, Brielle. I’ll be gone for five days, and when I get home, we’re going to talk about this. We’re going to work through it.”
“Unless I tell you to go?”
He grows so tense it must be painful. “Yes.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Five days.”
I agree to the timeline, even if the thought of five days away from him might kill me. I’ll take those days because without them, I don’t know if I’d do what’s best for me.
Not when every piece of my soul is telling me to go home with him right now.
43
BRIELLE
Roman’s cardoesn’t move from the driveway.
I checked twice after I left him in the backyard and went hunting for my brother almost forty-five minutes ago. He wassupposedto leave. Knowing that he’s still here somewhere in this house is fucking with my nervous system. I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, and this . . . having him stay so close, even if it is a ten-thousand-square-foot house, is making everything worse.
All I want to do is run back to him, and each time I refuse to do just that, I grow weaker, drained too dry.
My patience is shot by the time I bump into Beck at the bottom of the staircase. He offers me a grin before his bloodshot eyes strain to focus, and it falters.
“What’s up?”
“My brother. Where is he?”
He lifts a weak arm to the upper level. “Upstairs. His room.”
“Is he alone?” I ask, crinkling my nose.
