Protecting the Boundary (LA Wolves #8)

Chapter 36

THIRTY-SIX

A week later, I’m woken up in the most pleasurable way I’ve ever awakened. My heavy lids part as desire ripples through my core. Romel’s eyes are closed as he groans and sucks my clit into his mouth.

“Oh God,” I murmur, my voice groggy. Fuck, his tongue is magical.

Then he slips two fingers into me and rubs them against my G-spot as he relentlessly sucks and flicks that talented tongue over my clit until my back arches and my orgasm rolls through me like a slow, but powerful tidal wave.

He kisses his way up my naked body—I never bothered to get dressed after he left last night because I was too exhausted—until he reaches my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him against me, soaking in the warmth and weight of his body on mine. A week of the best sex of my life and I’m officially addicted.

He notches his condom-covered cock against my core and gently pushes inside. I have no idea when he put on a condom, but I can’t care less once he’s buried inside me. And then he finds a fast rhythm that shoots us both over the cliff quickly.

He sags against me, but his arms are flexed, holding most of his weight off me so he doesn’t crush me.

“What a way to wake up,” I murmur happily. My body is practically humming from how good I feel after the orgasms he gave me last night after he put Kay to bed and then again this morning.

“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye properly.” He kisses me and while it starts light, it gets deep quickly. I can never seem to kiss him and not feel a million emotions. It’s been even more intense since we started having sex. I want so much with him—a future that I’m not sure he’s quite ready for, but I’m remaining hopeful.

“You’ll just be gone tonight and tomorrow, right?” I ask him.

“Yep, and then I’ll be home.” He kisses me again and then pulls back, something tender in his gaze. “I’m going to miss you.”

I can’t help smiling, a giddy warmth filling my chest. “I’ll miss you too.”

He kisses me again, but pulls away before either of us can take it as far as we want it to go. He slides out of me, and I get dressed while he puts his clothes back on. We walk hand in hand back to the main house. He’s got an early flight, so he’s up even earlier than normal. He checks his watch and a frown mars his handsome face. “I wish Kay was up so I could say goodbye.”

“You can video call us when you guys get settled in the hotel. I’m sure she’d love that.”

He smiles and pulls me into his arms. “Sounds like a plan.” He drops a peck to my lips with a smile. “Miss you already.”

I laugh and push him out of the house. His answering laugh is music to my ears. I’m not sure what’s changed in him, but he seems less weary, less worn down than he was when I started working for him. I’d like to think it’s our relationship, but it’s possible it’s just the power of consistently great sex.

That would put anyone in a good mood.

Later that day, Kaylee falls asleep on the couch, and I decide to just let her nap there instead of moving her to her room. I pick up the toys we played with this morning and then go upstairs to pick up her room. It’s amazing the mess a three-year-old can make when given the chance. As sweet as this girl is, she can be a tornado when it comes to wreaking havoc on this house.

Next, I sort and fold the laundry and find some of Romel’s clothes in the load that I thought was just Kaylee’s stuff. I fold it, and after I put Kay’s clothes away, I walk down the hall to Romel’s room. I don’t even think twice about walking into his room—a room I’ve never been in before—and setting the clothes on his bed.

And then as I’m turning around to leave, my gaze catches on a framed picture sitting on his nightstand. I know it’s his because the bed is still rumpled and unmade on that side. I move closer to the nightstand and then take a heavy seat as I pick up the photo.

I don’t know how I feel about him still having the picture of his wife next to his bed when he’s been fucking me every night.

Scratch that—it’s not a good feeling. Is this why we haven’t had sex in here?

My brows furrow as reality threatens to pop the blissful bubble I’ve been living in. In the last week, we’ve only had sex or fooled around in the guesthouse. I thought it was because Kay was in the main house and he didn’t want to risk waking her up if we couldn’t be quiet, but as I stare at the picture of his wife that he still keeps right next to his bed, another thought hits me .

What if he doesn’t want to be intimate with me in the house he shared with Sydney?

Will I always be stuck in her shadow?

I’m falling hard for him—harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone—and now I’m scared I’m setting myself up for heartache.

I mean, I always knew it was a possibility, but I’d convinced myself it was worth the risk of heartache— he was worth the risk.

But as I sit here staring at the photo of his wife that he sees every night before he falls asleep—while I’ve been in the guesthouse thinking of him—I can’t help feeling like I should’ve listened to that tiny voice in the back of my mind.

Even my dad has voiced his concerns. I brushed it off as him just being worried about his baby girl, but what if he’s right? I mean, after all, he was once in Romel’s shoes and he could never move on. I know he loved my mom as fiercely as Romel loves Sydney.

My chest tightens as I think about the picture of my mom that has sat on my dad’s nightstand for as long as I can remember.

I look down at the picture of the woman who still holds Romel’s heart—how much is anyone’s guess, but I would bet the majority. “You were so lucky to have his love.”

But then my chest tightens even more as I think about my words. Was she really all that lucky when she died before she could enjoy the family she created with him? Sydney will never get to see Kaylee grow up, fall in love, figure out who she is.

“I want to love them both, but I’m afraid he won’t love me back.”

Sydney smiles through the photo, her face frozen forever, but her memory as present in this house as I am. She’s everywhere, and I need to figure out if there will ever be room for me here as well.

Because if there isn’t, better to know sooner rather than later—and preferably before I get my heart completely ripped out of my chest.