Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
My dad walks in the back door followed by Romel. Both their faces are somber, and my heart sinks to my stomach.
“Everything okay?” I ask Romel softly.
He nods his head and kisses my forehead, but his gaze is distracted—lost in thoughts that he doesn’t share with me.
“You ready to go?” he asks instead.
I nod and then watch my dad give Kaylee a high five goodbye and Romel a handshake. Romel takes Kaylee out to the car while I say goodbye to my dad.
He hugs me tight and then whispers in my ear, “Be careful with that big heart of yours, sweetheart. Remember what I said before—if he can’t give you what you need, then you need to be willing to walk away.”
I pull back and look into his worried eyes. “What did he say to you?”
“It’s what he didn’t say that has me worried. Just be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and I’m worried that’s exactly what you’re setting yourself up for.”
He kisses the top of my head and then walks me to the door. My nerves had mostly evaporated, but now they’re swirling viciously in my stomach, joined with something else—a sense of loss even though I haven’t actually lost anything.
My dad didn’t outright say he doesn’t approve of Romel. In fact, I suspect if Romel wasn’t dating his daughter, he’d be his biggest fan. As it is, I’m wondering if this dinner was even a good idea or if I should’ve kept Romel and Kaylee to myself for longer.
But I suppose this night would’ve happened no matter what, and now I’m left feeling adrift at sea.
The drive home is quiet, both Romel and me clearly lost in our thoughts. We go through Kay’s bedtime routine together, both of us focused on Kaylee more than each other. We alternate reading stories to her, and by the third book, she can barely keep her eyes open. We both kiss her forehead and then walk out of the room.
Romel has barely spoken to me since we left my dad’s, so I start to head downstairs, planning to stay in the guesthouse tonight, even though it’s the last place I want to be right now. But before I get too far, he grabs my hand and stops me.
“Stay with me,” he says, his voice soft but filled with need.
I nod, grateful he doesn’t want to be apart either. Still holding my hand, he leads me to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind us.
It’s still weird sleeping in this room with him. I want to believe it means our relationship is heading in the right direction—I mean, he got rid of the bed he shared with Sydney and put her picture away. That’s a huge step. I’m not even sure my dad has done more than replace his mattress in the twenty-two years I’ve been alive, but that was only because the other one got too old and I finally convinced him to get a better one.
Neither of us speak as he slowly undresses me, his lips kissing my skin as he exposes more of my body. He sheds his clothes quickly and then lifts me up and carries me over to the bed. His kisses are hungry, almost urgent in a way they’ve never been before.
His hands roam over my body, claiming every inch as if it were uncharted territory. Each touch is electric, sending jolts of desire straight to my core. I can feel the urgency in his fingers, the need that mirrors my own. His mouth finds mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring, dancing with mine in a primal rhythm.
Romel pushes me gently onto the bed, his body covering mine. The weight of him is comforting and grounds me in the moment. His lips trail down my neck, nipping and sucking, marking me as his. I can feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against my thigh, and I reach down, wrapping my hand around his length, stroking him slowly. He groans into my neck, his hips thrusting into my touch.
“Meredith,” he whispers, my name a prayer on his lips, but there’s something else in his tone that makes my breath catch and fear slither through my veins.
He grabs a condom and sheaths his cock quickly before I pull him toward me and guide him between my legs to where I need him most. Romel looks into my eyes, a storm of emotions swirling in his gaze. Guilt, desire, need, fear—it’s all there, raw and exposed. But he doesn’t hesitate as he thrusts into me, filling me completely. I gasp, my back arching off the bed as pleasure rips through me.
His movements are urgent, almost desperate. Each thrust is a claim, a plea, an apology. I meet him stroke for stroke, my hips rising to meet his on every thrust. Our bodies are slick with sweat as they slide against each other in a way that feels almost animalistic.
He leans down, capturing my nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. I cry out, my hands grabbing his head and holding him to me. He moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while he continues to pump into me with abandon. My body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation.
His hand snakes down between us, finding my clit, and he immediately rubs circles around the sensitive bud, his touch firm and sure. Pleasure coils in my belly, tightening with each stroke of his fingers and every thrust of his cock.
“Come for me, Meredith,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “I need to feel you come.”
His words push me over the edge. My orgasm crashes over me, my body convulsing around his cock as my nails dig into his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life. He buries his face in my neck, his body tensing as he finds his own release, my name a whispered chant on his lips.
We lie there, panting, our bodies still entwined. I can feel his heart racing against my chest, his breath hot on my neck. But as our breathing slows and our bodies cool, I can feel the shift in the air. He pulls back, looking down at me, and the guilt that always lingers just beneath the surface begins to creep back into his eyes.
He pulls me into his arms so my back is to his front and kisses the side of my neck. “Good night, Mere.”
“Good night,” I whisper.
But I don’t fall asleep, even long after I feel his body go slack with sleep. Thoughts plague me for hours as I keep hearing my dad’s words from earlier and then seeing the guilt creep back into Romel’s eyes after we had sex tonight.
Is my dad right? Should I accept that Romel may not ever be able to give me what I need and let him go?
No matter what, it’s too late for me to get out of this with my heart intact. And maybe that’s what I’m afraid of most of all—that no matter what, I’m going to end up with a broken heart.