“Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
He tugged me closer, our legs tanglin’, bodies pressin’ together.
Heat started doin’ that slow crawl through me again.
“Roman,” I warned.
“Yeah?” he asked, all innocent.
“We supposed to be gettin’ up,” I said. “We got stuff to do.”
“Like what?”
“I’ma go check on Fee,” I said. “She texted in the group chat talkin’ ‘bout she ain’t sleep at all last night. I think them boys tried to fight their way out.”
He smiled. “We can check on them later.”
“And April probably up already plannin’ somethin’ else,” I added.
He shrugged. “She gon’ be plannin’ till she eighty. She fine.”
“You got business,” I said weakly.
He tilted his head. “You tryna talk yourself out this?”
I opened my mouth to argue.
Didn’t have one.
Truth was, the only thing on my mind in that moment was how warm his skin felt under my palm and how easy my body melted into his.
I’d spent so long denyin’ myself this kind of softness…
Now that I had it, it seemed stupid to push it away just ‘cause I was used to sufferin’.
He dipped his head, mouths meetin’. The kiss started soft, then deepened, slow and steady.
No rush.
No frantic, prove-somethin’ energy.
Just… us.
We moved like we’d finally learned each other.
Where to touch.
Where to go slow.
Where to press and where to ease.
He kept his eyes on me, like he always did, but there was no possessive edge this time.
Just wantin’.
And the way he said my name, soft, low, like a prayer and a curse all in one, did somethin’ to me I couldn’t blame on hormones.
When it was over, we were both laid out, breathin’ hard, skin stickin’ to the sheets.
