Roman
Page 59
With a sigh, I put the remote down on the coffee table and push up from the couch. As I cross my small apartment, I wonder what I’ll get with Roman. Maybe he’s drunk after deciding to go out and drink with the boys, and he lost track of time and forgot he had a date with me. Maybe he had something important come up that prevented him from contacting me, although in fairness, I wouldn’t know if he’d been trying recently, as I turned my phone off the minute I got home.
When my hand touches the knob, I steel myself to maintain my irritation with him, knowing that one soft look will melt my anger, and swing the door open.
I’m met with anger on etched all over his face. “Is there a reason you’re ignoring my calls?”
“Didn’t know you called,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “Turned my phone off.”
“Seriously?” he asks with both eyebrows raised. “That’s how you’re playing this?”
“Yup,” is all I say.
“Can I at least come in?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Sure,” I respond with another shrug, then step back from the door so he can enter. “But let’s make this quick, as I have a hot date tonight with Hugh Grant and Liam Neeson.”
“What?” he huffs as he turns on me, clearly confused.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know anything about them,” I say sweetly. “Two men who clearly have their priorities in order.”
“Jesus fuck, Lexi,” he growls at me in frustration. “I’m sorry I’m late—”
“By three and a half hours,” I growl back at him.
The anger dies in his eyes and apology softens his face. “I’m really sorry. I laid down to take a nap after practice. I even set my alarm on my phone, but I fucking forgot to turn the vibrate off. I just didn’t hear it.”
I don’t say a word, but I’m not about to let him know at this point I’m actually relieved he’s here and it’s a simple matter of not hearing his alarm, causing him to oversleep and miss our date. But I’m going to let him squirm a little more.
“I woke up about an hour ago and immediately tried to call you,” he continues to explain. “But you wouldn’t answer.”
“Phone was off,” I remind him.
He gives me a tiny glare and continues. “I rushed right out of the house and went to The Grind. Georgia told me you weren’t there and I had to listen to her read me the riot act. Then I came here.”
Roman sounds so frustrated, so completely out of sorts, as I think this may be the first time he realizes that relationships aren’t always fun and games, that my anger completely fizzles and I have a moment of profound sympathy for him.
“Was Georgia really tough on you?” I ask with a compassionate smile as I move toward him.
“Yes,” he exaggerates with a pout. “Based on the way she laid into me, I was positive I was going to come here and have you tell me to get lost permanently.”
“Poor baby,” I croon, also with exaggeration, before stepping into his body. My arms wrap around his waist and I press my cheek into the middle of his chest.
His arms automatically encircle me and he presses his lips briefly to my head. “Am I forgiven?”
“Yes,” I tell him with no hesitation, because I’d decided to do so the minute he told me he’d overslept. I mean, who hasn’t done that at some point in their life?
“Can I stay the night and can we have makeup sex?” he asks hopefully.
I snicker and squeeze him. “Sure, if that’s what floats your boat.”
Roman’s arms release me and his hands go to my shoulders, pushing me back from him enough so he can look down at my face. “You totally float my boat, in bed and out. I’m really sorry.”
“I said you were forgiven,” I tell him softly, loving the way his face monumentally softens with relief and hopefulness that he can have something “more” than anything he’s ever had in his life. “Let’s go have makeup sex now.”
—
“I’m close,” Roman murmurs as he kisses my neck, moving in and out of me in long, slow glides of wet flesh on the verge of a spectacular release. “Tell me you’re close.”
“I am,” I breathe, my entire body quivering from this fantastic lovemaking. He’s already made me come twice, once with his mouth between my legs in what I’m thinking he felt was a further need for apology, and then again when he turned me over on the mattress, pulled me up onto my hands and knees, and fucked me quickly from behind. I came extraordinarily fast for a second time, collapsed from the dizziness that ensued, and then gasped in surprise when he pulled out, flipped me over and entered me again.
Since then, he slowed the pace to a rhythmic undulation that I think was meant to display his stamina, as well as prolong this indescribable feeling of complete connection that we have in this moment.
Roman’s mouth moves from my neck to my jaw before his lips claim mine in a deep, slow kiss that matches his strokes. I can’t help the deep moan that rumbles upward from my chest through my throat and rolls from my tongue onto his. It causes his hips to punch forward and he thrusts into me deep, causing me to instantly shatter once again. My body bucks from the force of my orgasm and my moan turns deeper, more animalistic. As if the flame of my orgasm causes Roman’s to fire, he pulls back and then dives in deep one more time, his hand going to my hips to dig in and hold me in place. He grinds his hips against me and his mouth pulls away from mine as he starts to come. Roman throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, and a long gust of breath comes outs as he releases…body trembling, fingers digging into my flesh, his face a mask of exquisite pleasure.
It’s so beautiful…I feel a storm of euphoria sweep through me that has nothing to do with what our bodies just shared, but everything to do with what our hearts did.
After, when our pulses calm and Roman leaves me briefly to take care of the condom, we wrap ourselves in each other’s arms and burrow in deep under the covers. We lay on our sides, bodies pressed tight and our limbs tangled.
“We should fight more,” I say into the darkness, feeling almost smug that we overcame this little hiccup.
Roman is silent for a moment, and I wait for him to tease me back, but instead he says, “You’re not an easy woman to fall for.”
When my hand touches the knob, I steel myself to maintain my irritation with him, knowing that one soft look will melt my anger, and swing the door open.
I’m met with anger on etched all over his face. “Is there a reason you’re ignoring my calls?”
“Didn’t know you called,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “Turned my phone off.”
“Seriously?” he asks with both eyebrows raised. “That’s how you’re playing this?”
“Yup,” is all I say.
“Can I at least come in?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Sure,” I respond with another shrug, then step back from the door so he can enter. “But let’s make this quick, as I have a hot date tonight with Hugh Grant and Liam Neeson.”
“What?” he huffs as he turns on me, clearly confused.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know anything about them,” I say sweetly. “Two men who clearly have their priorities in order.”
“Jesus fuck, Lexi,” he growls at me in frustration. “I’m sorry I’m late—”
“By three and a half hours,” I growl back at him.
The anger dies in his eyes and apology softens his face. “I’m really sorry. I laid down to take a nap after practice. I even set my alarm on my phone, but I fucking forgot to turn the vibrate off. I just didn’t hear it.”
I don’t say a word, but I’m not about to let him know at this point I’m actually relieved he’s here and it’s a simple matter of not hearing his alarm, causing him to oversleep and miss our date. But I’m going to let him squirm a little more.
“I woke up about an hour ago and immediately tried to call you,” he continues to explain. “But you wouldn’t answer.”
“Phone was off,” I remind him.
He gives me a tiny glare and continues. “I rushed right out of the house and went to The Grind. Georgia told me you weren’t there and I had to listen to her read me the riot act. Then I came here.”
Roman sounds so frustrated, so completely out of sorts, as I think this may be the first time he realizes that relationships aren’t always fun and games, that my anger completely fizzles and I have a moment of profound sympathy for him.
“Was Georgia really tough on you?” I ask with a compassionate smile as I move toward him.
“Yes,” he exaggerates with a pout. “Based on the way she laid into me, I was positive I was going to come here and have you tell me to get lost permanently.”
“Poor baby,” I croon, also with exaggeration, before stepping into his body. My arms wrap around his waist and I press my cheek into the middle of his chest.
His arms automatically encircle me and he presses his lips briefly to my head. “Am I forgiven?”
“Yes,” I tell him with no hesitation, because I’d decided to do so the minute he told me he’d overslept. I mean, who hasn’t done that at some point in their life?
“Can I stay the night and can we have makeup sex?” he asks hopefully.
I snicker and squeeze him. “Sure, if that’s what floats your boat.”
Roman’s arms release me and his hands go to my shoulders, pushing me back from him enough so he can look down at my face. “You totally float my boat, in bed and out. I’m really sorry.”
“I said you were forgiven,” I tell him softly, loving the way his face monumentally softens with relief and hopefulness that he can have something “more” than anything he’s ever had in his life. “Let’s go have makeup sex now.”
—
“I’m close,” Roman murmurs as he kisses my neck, moving in and out of me in long, slow glides of wet flesh on the verge of a spectacular release. “Tell me you’re close.”
“I am,” I breathe, my entire body quivering from this fantastic lovemaking. He’s already made me come twice, once with his mouth between my legs in what I’m thinking he felt was a further need for apology, and then again when he turned me over on the mattress, pulled me up onto my hands and knees, and fucked me quickly from behind. I came extraordinarily fast for a second time, collapsed from the dizziness that ensued, and then gasped in surprise when he pulled out, flipped me over and entered me again.
Since then, he slowed the pace to a rhythmic undulation that I think was meant to display his stamina, as well as prolong this indescribable feeling of complete connection that we have in this moment.
Roman’s mouth moves from my neck to my jaw before his lips claim mine in a deep, slow kiss that matches his strokes. I can’t help the deep moan that rumbles upward from my chest through my throat and rolls from my tongue onto his. It causes his hips to punch forward and he thrusts into me deep, causing me to instantly shatter once again. My body bucks from the force of my orgasm and my moan turns deeper, more animalistic. As if the flame of my orgasm causes Roman’s to fire, he pulls back and then dives in deep one more time, his hand going to my hips to dig in and hold me in place. He grinds his hips against me and his mouth pulls away from mine as he starts to come. Roman throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, and a long gust of breath comes outs as he releases…body trembling, fingers digging into my flesh, his face a mask of exquisite pleasure.
It’s so beautiful…I feel a storm of euphoria sweep through me that has nothing to do with what our bodies just shared, but everything to do with what our hearts did.
After, when our pulses calm and Roman leaves me briefly to take care of the condom, we wrap ourselves in each other’s arms and burrow in deep under the covers. We lay on our sides, bodies pressed tight and our limbs tangled.
“We should fight more,” I say into the darkness, feeling almost smug that we overcame this little hiccup.
Roman is silent for a moment, and I wait for him to tease me back, but instead he says, “You’re not an easy woman to fall for.”
