Bestie
Page 48
I mumble under my breath and keep trying to light the fire. It takes me a solid half an hour, but finally a flame lights and holds. I launch up and scream, “Yes!! I knew it!!”
Roman rolls his eyes and hands me a beer. “Get over here.”
“Let me do my victory dance first.”
I put my arms out in front of me, and start wiggling my way around the fire. Roman shakes his head, and when I meet his eyes, they’re soft and lusty.
“Your ass ...” he murmurs. “Fuck.”
I flush and take the beer from his hand, flopping down into my chair. He reaches over, grabbing the leg of it, and dragging it so it’s right next to his.
“Personal bubble, Roman.”
“Shut up.”
Shrugging, I take advantage of the situation and throw my leg up onto his lap. He raises his brows, and looks down at it.
“Feel free to flick it off, but we both know you want it there.”
He huffs.
“What size is your foot anyway? Jesus, I’m fairly certain a seven-year-old boy has bigger feet than you.”
I gasp and look at my feet. “They are not that small.”
“They’re small, like your hands.”
I raise a hand and stare at it. “Well, life would suck if I was a boy then, wouldn’t it?”
He raises his brows. “How so?”
“Haven’t you heard the old secret? If a man has big hands and big feet ...”
Roman rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. That’s a load of shit.”
“It’s not.”
“Is fucking so. Knew a man once, had massive hands and feet, tiniest dick I ever saw.”
I giggle and then raise my brows. “What were you doing looking at his dick, Roman?”
He slaps my thigh and I squeal. His hand instantly goes back and rubs the spot he hit. He keeps rubbing and a spark shoots straight to my core. God damn I want him. I know I shouldn’t, because it’s still probably too soon even though he’s doing really well, but he makes it really hard when he rubs my leg like that.
I feel a shift under my foot, and our eyes dart to each other’s.
“Are you getting a boner?”
He winks. “Your foot is on my lap, I’m rubbing your thigh, what do you think?”
“Oh, my god. Animal.”
I got to pull my foot away, but he jerks it back, keeping it there. He keeps his hand on my leg. I glance out at the view, where the sun is slowly starting to set. “It really is beautiful out here,” I say softly.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Are you sad about selling it?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no. I love it out here, but I don’t have time for it anymore, and I want something closer to where I live now.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“Still, it’ll fucking suck getting rid of it.”
“Yeah, it will.”
His hand inches further up my thigh, and I make no move to stop him. His brown eyes swing to mine, and by the time they connect, my heart is pounding.
“Should we be doing this?” I say softly.
“I hurt you before, but it was never intentional, please believe that. I wasn’t ready, I had to finish it properly. I’m done with it now. I haven’t spoken to her for over six weeks. I feel okay with moving on. I want to move on.”
“Yeah, I believe you, but ... I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“Then we go slow,” he offers.
I stare down at his hand. “Sex is going slow?”
He lifts his hand off straight away. “If you don’t want to, I completely understand. I will not make you feel shit about wanting to wait. It’s your choice, gorgeous.”
But I do want to.
I do.
Do I take the risk again? It is different this time, because he doesn’t speak with her anymore and made the choice on his own to move on. But, the fact of the matter is, there is still lingering hurt there. Will doing this make him feel worse? Will it make me feel worse?
“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs. “Stop. It’s over, I mean that. You know I mean that. I want to see what this turns into. I like you. I really fucking adore you, Molly. Can we just go with the flow and see where it goes?”
I stare into his eyes. “Men say that all the time, and all it ever is, is casual. I care about you, I want this, but I’m not just going to be someone’s almost girlfriend, either. I’m worth more than that. We can go slow, but if we go slow, we’re exclusive, still. I don’t want to just be a good time until you feel better.”
He nods. “Not interested in anyone else.”
“And you’re not just doing this for sex?”
He looks a little hurt by that. “Honestly, if that was the case, I would have gone out and just gotten sex six weeks ago. I haven’t. I have spent all my time with you. Don’t pretend you don’t know that what we have here is real, Molly. We have a true connection, you know it as well as I do, I just don’t want to jump straight back into a full-blown relationship right this second because I think it’ll break us, but it is something I want to take slow and get to that point.”
I exhale. “I know what we have is special, but I’m a little ... guarded after last time.”
“That’s why we go slow. Let’s just hang out, let happen what needs to happen, and if it goes well, we’ll make it official.”
“Okay, Roman,” I say gently. “But please, please, don’t hurt me again.”
He releases my thigh and reaches over, cupping my jaw, turning my face towards his. “You’re the best thing I have. I won’t hurt you again. Please trust that.”
I hold his eyes.
And I do trust that.
Because I trust him.
~*~*~*~
Roman’s hand cups my jaw, his mouth crashes against mine, our bodies move together and God, it feels incredible. So fucking incredible. We’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, we’re naked, he’s hovering over me, thrusting slowly, fucking me with a perfection I didn’t think was possible.
I hook my leg around his, arching up and taking him deeper. He feels so fucking good. He releases my jaw and my lips, gliding his hands up my arms until he captures my hands above my head with his. He hangs on tightly, one of his big hands curling around both my little ones. His chest presses against mine, his forehead rests against mine, and he keeps up the slow, torturous pace.
Roman rolls his eyes and hands me a beer. “Get over here.”
“Let me do my victory dance first.”
I put my arms out in front of me, and start wiggling my way around the fire. Roman shakes his head, and when I meet his eyes, they’re soft and lusty.
“Your ass ...” he murmurs. “Fuck.”
I flush and take the beer from his hand, flopping down into my chair. He reaches over, grabbing the leg of it, and dragging it so it’s right next to his.
“Personal bubble, Roman.”
“Shut up.”
Shrugging, I take advantage of the situation and throw my leg up onto his lap. He raises his brows, and looks down at it.
“Feel free to flick it off, but we both know you want it there.”
He huffs.
“What size is your foot anyway? Jesus, I’m fairly certain a seven-year-old boy has bigger feet than you.”
I gasp and look at my feet. “They are not that small.”
“They’re small, like your hands.”
I raise a hand and stare at it. “Well, life would suck if I was a boy then, wouldn’t it?”
He raises his brows. “How so?”
“Haven’t you heard the old secret? If a man has big hands and big feet ...”
Roman rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. That’s a load of shit.”
“It’s not.”
“Is fucking so. Knew a man once, had massive hands and feet, tiniest dick I ever saw.”
I giggle and then raise my brows. “What were you doing looking at his dick, Roman?”
He slaps my thigh and I squeal. His hand instantly goes back and rubs the spot he hit. He keeps rubbing and a spark shoots straight to my core. God damn I want him. I know I shouldn’t, because it’s still probably too soon even though he’s doing really well, but he makes it really hard when he rubs my leg like that.
I feel a shift under my foot, and our eyes dart to each other’s.
“Are you getting a boner?”
He winks. “Your foot is on my lap, I’m rubbing your thigh, what do you think?”
“Oh, my god. Animal.”
I got to pull my foot away, but he jerks it back, keeping it there. He keeps his hand on my leg. I glance out at the view, where the sun is slowly starting to set. “It really is beautiful out here,” I say softly.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Are you sad about selling it?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no. I love it out here, but I don’t have time for it anymore, and I want something closer to where I live now.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“Still, it’ll fucking suck getting rid of it.”
“Yeah, it will.”
His hand inches further up my thigh, and I make no move to stop him. His brown eyes swing to mine, and by the time they connect, my heart is pounding.
“Should we be doing this?” I say softly.
“I hurt you before, but it was never intentional, please believe that. I wasn’t ready, I had to finish it properly. I’m done with it now. I haven’t spoken to her for over six weeks. I feel okay with moving on. I want to move on.”
“Yeah, I believe you, but ... I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“Then we go slow,” he offers.
I stare down at his hand. “Sex is going slow?”
He lifts his hand off straight away. “If you don’t want to, I completely understand. I will not make you feel shit about wanting to wait. It’s your choice, gorgeous.”
But I do want to.
I do.
Do I take the risk again? It is different this time, because he doesn’t speak with her anymore and made the choice on his own to move on. But, the fact of the matter is, there is still lingering hurt there. Will doing this make him feel worse? Will it make me feel worse?
“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs. “Stop. It’s over, I mean that. You know I mean that. I want to see what this turns into. I like you. I really fucking adore you, Molly. Can we just go with the flow and see where it goes?”
I stare into his eyes. “Men say that all the time, and all it ever is, is casual. I care about you, I want this, but I’m not just going to be someone’s almost girlfriend, either. I’m worth more than that. We can go slow, but if we go slow, we’re exclusive, still. I don’t want to just be a good time until you feel better.”
He nods. “Not interested in anyone else.”
“And you’re not just doing this for sex?”
He looks a little hurt by that. “Honestly, if that was the case, I would have gone out and just gotten sex six weeks ago. I haven’t. I have spent all my time with you. Don’t pretend you don’t know that what we have here is real, Molly. We have a true connection, you know it as well as I do, I just don’t want to jump straight back into a full-blown relationship right this second because I think it’ll break us, but it is something I want to take slow and get to that point.”
I exhale. “I know what we have is special, but I’m a little ... guarded after last time.”
“That’s why we go slow. Let’s just hang out, let happen what needs to happen, and if it goes well, we’ll make it official.”
“Okay, Roman,” I say gently. “But please, please, don’t hurt me again.”
He releases my thigh and reaches over, cupping my jaw, turning my face towards his. “You’re the best thing I have. I won’t hurt you again. Please trust that.”
I hold his eyes.
And I do trust that.
Because I trust him.
~*~*~*~
Roman’s hand cups my jaw, his mouth crashes against mine, our bodies move together and God, it feels incredible. So fucking incredible. We’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, we’re naked, he’s hovering over me, thrusting slowly, fucking me with a perfection I didn’t think was possible.
I hook my leg around his, arching up and taking him deeper. He feels so fucking good. He releases my jaw and my lips, gliding his hands up my arms until he captures my hands above my head with his. He hangs on tightly, one of his big hands curling around both my little ones. His chest presses against mine, his forehead rests against mine, and he keeps up the slow, torturous pace.
