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The memory of the sounds he made just before he came echoes through my ears, and I don’t have to be in the room to know the desperate noises he’s making right now. God, I love a whimpering, vocal man in bed. It’s so fucking hot.

My fingers move faster, and I bite my lip, remembering the way his whole body shook, like he was fighting with every ounce of restraint he could garner to keep from coming a second too soon.

It made sense when he was fucking me, but I’m surprised to see that he fights just as hard to hold off when he’s by himself.

I guess some men really do it for the love of the game.

His fist is moving faster now, and I know he’s moments away from losing the battle. I am too, for that matter. I dip my fingers inside my tight opening, then drag them back out to circle my clit as warm, fluttery tingles begin to build.

My eyes dart between where his fist is stroking his cock and the look of pure desperation on his face, like they can’t decide where to focus.

Another pump of his fist and the decision is made for me. I watch in awe as his back hunches forward, his defined abs flexing, and his violent strokes begin to slow as he carefully shoots his release over his own chest.

And then I find my own release, my muscles clench, my whole body going rigid as the delicious euphoric wave rips through me so violently my vision goes blurry.

The moan that escapes me echoes through the bathroom so loudly that I’m surprised Roman didn’t hear it. My coiled body goes limp as all the tension melts away.

Fuck that was hot.

I cover my face with my hands as I slide down the tub until I’m fully submerged beneath the water. As much as I should regret what I just did, I don’t. And I’m really not sure what that says about me…

When I come back up for air, Roman is finishing cleaning himself up. He rises from the bed, and I find myself leaning closer.

I watch as he tugs on his sweatpants and heads toward the window, pausing just long enough to make my stomach drop before yanking the drapes shut.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Roman

My balls ache, despite my many attempts to take the edge off, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to focus on anything but the walking temptation living in my backyard.

I’m a fucking mess of pent-up sexual frustration, hanging onto my sanity by a single thread.

It all feels so wrong, having to distance myself from her and act like an asshole, when all I want is to be near her, to figure out why she’s really here. Why she hasn’t quit by now…

It’s been almost a whole week since she moved in, and the fact that I’ve managed to stay away from her is nothing short of an act of God. Or, more accurately, Leo watching me like a hawk and threatening to fire her himself if I so much as look in her direction for too long. You’d think being on the other side of the world would impact his ability to keep tabs on me, but every time I turn around, he’s jumping on a call to check in, constantly checking in with Luka and Guy. As controlling and neurotic as he is, I don’t think he was this involved before he left.

As difficult as it’s been, I’ve managed to keep my distance.

Technically, anyway.

I mean, I can’t help that she happens to be sitting next to my new bird feeder, lying out by the pool looking sexy as sin in that bright red string bikini.

I’ve always wanted to get into bird-watching and figured there’s no better time than the present. I don’t really need the binoculars. Though the zoomed-in view is nice, they’re mostly just for show, just in case someone happens to see me.

I get it, she’s trying to get a tan, but of all the fucking bikinis she could be wearing, she chose that bright red piece of string? The thin strips of fabric barely cover her nipples. It’s obscene. Lewis is out here for fuck’s sake. There’s no way she’s not doing it on purpose.

Maybe it’s creepy to be spying on her like this, but I’m simply returning the favor. I’m getting hard all over again just thinking about the way she watched me last night.

I’ll admit it was wrong of me to bait her like that, but all this pretending is getting to me. Having to look at her every single day and pretend I don’t know what her pussy tastes like or the sounds she makes when she comes… A man can only be pushed so far until he breaks.

I wasn’t sure how she’d react, but I had hoped she’d watch.

Jesus, it took everything in me not to look at her, to let her know that I was fully aware of her eyes on me. That the view works both ways.

She fell right into my trap and gave me everything I wanted and more.

Now that my suspicions are confirmed, what I felt that night wasn’t just a one-off thing in the heat of the moment. She wants me just as much as I want her. And fuck if that isn’t somehow both the best and worst news of my life.