Chapter 8
Roman flopped onto his back, his heart hammering against his rib cage. Ava lay naked on her back beside him, her skin shiny
from exertion. They were stretched out on a king-size bed in the Dulce Flor’s penthouse suite, the blankets tangled all around
them.
The second they’d walked in, she’d grabbed him by the tie and kissed him senseless, and his intention to find out why she’d
contacted him had flown out of his head. They’d fallen on each other with ravenous hunger, more like long lost lovers reuniting
than the virtual strangers they actually were.
Roman hadn’t questioned it. Like the first time, he’d simply given her everything she’d asked for and taken everything she’d
been willing to give.
And it had been explosive .
But now that they’d come—him once, her twice—he wanted to get to the bottom of what had brought her here tonight.
It took him several seconds to find his voice. Clearing his throat, he spoke as nonchalantly as he could. “So, how was your
day?”
Ava huffed out a laugh, which had been his goal. But then her mouth pinched tight, and her gaze cut away before she answered
in a subdued tone.
“It was fine.”
He propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her face. “Did something happen?”
Her chest rose and fell as she let out a long sigh. “You could say that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She fingered her “Ava” necklace—the only thing she wore—and didn’t meet his eyes. “I, um, I saw my ex today.”
“Oh.” Roman’s brows rose and he suddenly understood, although he wished he didn’t. “Where?”
“I was getting coffee before I caught the train to work,” she said. “I usually make it at home, but I wanted to splurge, you
know? Get a fancier drink. Before I could even take a sip, I turned around and there he was, standing right between me and
the door.”
Roman’s heart broke for her. “Did he see you?”
She gave a hollow laugh. “Oh yeah. He was already staring right at me, so I know he recognized me from behind.”
Roman’s mouth tightened. So the asshole had seen her, and then hadn’t said anything or left, knowing that she’d turn around and spot him. Probably also knowing how it would affect her and letting it happen anyway.
What a dick.
But Roman didn’t want to make this about him, so he kept those thoughts to himself and only asked, “Did he say anything?”
Her lips twisted bitterly. “Yeah.” She dropped her voice to mimic her ex’s tone. “‘Hi Ava.’ That was it.”
“And what did you say?”
She shrugged. “I just said, ‘Hi Hector,’ and left. Then I threw my drink out.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t throw it at him.”
Her lips curved slightly, but she looked sad. “I’d never make a scene like that.”
Roman had the feeling there was more she’d wanted to say to the guy, but she wouldn’t do that in public, either. He hesitated,
not sure how she’d respond to comforting, but it wasn’t in his nature to hold back when someone was hurting. He reached out
and twined his fingers with hers. She gave him a squeeze and didn’t let go, which he took as a good sign.
“It really threw me off,” she admitted after a moment. “I accidentally handed out the wrong quiz and only realized it when
three kids started crying because the questions were about material we haven’t covered yet.”
“I’m sure they were very relieved to hear it was a mistake.”
“They were, but I felt terrible for stressing them out. I let them rip the quizzes up and toss the pieces in the air like
confetti, which they loved, but it meant I had to sweep the room during lunch. At the end of the day, one of my students even
asked if I was okay. I said I was, but... I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay. All because I saw stupid Hector at Starbucks.”
The brittle tone of her voice snapped something in Roman and he stopped worrying about comforting her too much. He pulled
her into his arms and tucked her head against his chest. To his immense relief, she slipped an arm around his waist and cuddled
closer.
“It’s ridiculous,” she muttered. “It’s going on two years, and most of the time, I don’t even think about him. But running
into him unexpectedly... it was like all the old pain and grief came flooding back.”
Roman didn’t know exactly what had gone down with Ava and her ex-husband, and it didn’t seem like his place to ask, but he wanted to make her feel better. “He can’t do anything to you anymore.”
She sighed, her breath fanning along his pecs. “Except for reminding me how I tried so hard to do everything right and I still
failed.”
“Trying isn’t failing. You only fail when you don’t try.”
“Whatever you say, Master Yoda.”
Before he could commit fully to the Star Wars reference, her phone rang. Ava twisted in his grip to reach for it, but when she glanced at the screen, her face fell.
“Do you need to take that?” he asked.
She gave him a miserable look. “It’s my ex–mother-in-law, Gloria. Hector must have told her he saw me.”
“Are you going to answer?”
She stared at the ringing phone in her hand for a long moment. Then she silenced it and tossed it into a pile of blankets
they’d kicked aside during their lovemaking.
“No. There’s nothing I need to hear from her.”
Roman’s chest swelled with pride. It was clear it wasn’t easy for her to ignore the call. He wanted to ask more but stopped
himself. If she wanted to tell him, she would.
Ava disentangled herself from his embrace and sat up, her dark curls tumbling enticingly over her shoulders.
“Look, Roman,” she began. “This is all... well, it’s amazing. Really.”
“But...?” Looked like the sharing portion of the evening was over.
She dipped her chin, as if she were feeling shy. As if they weren’t still naked, as if she hadn’t just had her gorgeous thighs
wrapped around his hips, her mouth around his—
“But I’ve never done something like this before,” she went on. “And I think it’s best to be up front.”
He sensed her pulling away from him, and he didn’t like it. Acting on impulse, he cupped her ankle gently and slid his hand
up her leg. “I agree.”
“I think you can understand why I don’t want more than... this.”
“Uh-huh.” He ran his hand over her knee. “I understand.”
“Just one perfect night, then back to my real life.” She glanced down to where his fingers caressed her inner thigh. “What
are you doing?”
“Touching you. Should I stop?”
“No, but I—” Her cheeks reddened, and she lowered her voice. “I have to go clean up.”
“Ava.” His hand drifted nearer to his goal. “You’re not dirty.”
“But we just—”
“ Sex is not dirty.”
She sent him a stern look that didn’t match the bashful lilt of her voice. “Roman. I’m still wet.”
God, she was delightful.
“I know,” he said, the words close to a purr. “I was licking you here earlier.”
She covered her face with her hands and mumbled, “Oh my god.”
“I want to do it again,” he said in her ear, just to see her reaction.
As predicted, her eyes went wide and scandalized.
“But you already...” She glanced down at his lap, where the condom he still wore was holding on by a hope and a prayer.
“I already came?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m finished giving you pleasure.”
“Even after we...?” She trailed off, like she couldn’t even say it. Like she couldn’t even contemplate that he’d want
anything to do with her after he’d climaxed.
He trailed his fingers to the sensitive crease of her thigh. “Why not?”
While he enjoyed her demure responses—so at odds with her demeanor when in the throes of passion—he couldn’t stand her thinking
he found any part of her body unappealing.
Uncertainty lurked in the hazel depths of her eyes. Like maybe she didn’t believe him, but she wanted to. She looked away
again before she spoke.
“I just... want to make it clear what we’re doing here,” she said, but the huskiness in her tone gave her away. “I don’t
expect anything from you. And as for me—”
Her breath hitched as he brushed his fingertips over her folds. When she didn’t continue, he paused. “You were saying?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t remember.”
He pressed soft kisses to her shoulder, nuzzling her hair and inhaling the faint scent of orange blossoms. “You want to know
what I think?”
She leaned into him and tipped her head back to rest against his chest. “What?”
“I think...” He drew his fingers up to swirl them over her clit. “...that we are two consenting adults who enjoy each
other’s company, and if we want to get together occasionally for mind-blowing sex, then we should.”
“Exactly.” She sounded relieved. “I’m glad you understand.”
“There’s only two things I want from you.”
Her eyes went wary. “And those are?”
He bit back a smile. Had she really thought he would let her set the terms without a little negotiation? Who did she take
him for?
“One: you let me make all the arrangements and pamper you.”
She sucked in a breath, probably to complain, but at his raised eyebrow, her lips settled into an adorable pout. “Fine. But
don’t go overboard. What’s the second thing?”
“That you believe me when I say I like every part of you.” He slipped his middle finger inside her, finding her soft and dewy.
“Even the wet bits. Especially the wet bits.”
She uttered a gentle groan, her body going pliant against him. He worked his finger back and forth in her tight heat, teasing
her. “Do you believe me?”
When she nodded, he added a second finger.
“Mmm, I do believe—oh! One more thing.”
He nuzzled her neck. “You drive a hard bargain, lady. What’s your one more thing?”
“I don’t...” She let out a little whimper as he began to pump his fingers faster. “I don’t think we should communicate.
In between our, um, meetings. I’ll reach out to you, and if you’re free, we’ll—”
“Do this?” He picked up the pace, fucking her with his hand.
“ Yesss .” It was more of a moan than a word. And after that, it was the only word she said for some time.
After round two, she lay against his side with her head on his chest.
“You know,” she said softly, “I’m not up front like this with anyone else in my life.”
“No?” He tucked her curls behind her ear so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was the perfect picture of relaxation.
She shook her head, and the curls sprang free. “With you, I can do the opposite of whatever I’d normally do. It’s refreshing.”
“Why me? How am I different?”
He tensed, waiting to hear her reasoning. He’d once had a woman he was dating tell him she didn’t see him as a real person
because he was rich. As if having money—something he’d come to later in life—meant he didn’t have feelings.
“You’re easy to talk to,” Ava mused, idly tracing the outline of one of his nipples with her index finger. “And it’s probably
because you have no connection to anyone else I know. It means I can come to you when... when I need to.”
“Happy to be of service,” he murmured.
So, Ava wasn’t using him for his money, or his business, or for fame. But she was using him as a coping mechanism.
It rankled a bit, but Roman couldn’t really blame her. He didn’t know what it was like to be divorced, didn’t know how he’d
navigate the emotional aftermath if he were in that situation. He’d had business ventures fail, but that wasn’t the same thing.
Besides, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting something out of this arrangement too. A night’s reprieve from the crushing
weight of his responsibilities to have incredible sex with a smart, beautiful woman who made no other demands on him or his
time? Some would say he was living the dream.
So why did part of him wish she’d make a few demands other than don’t call me ?
The fact was, it didn’t matter if she was using him to get over her ex or not. She’d been clear from the beginning where she stood. And it wasn’t like he had the time or inclination for anything more either. She was right to clarify the terms between them.
Still, he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
“Stay tonight,” he said, even as he worried he was coming on too strong. “My schedule is clear until morning, and then I can
arrange for you to be driven home.”
She tilted her chin and gave him a long look. Then she smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through clouds after a heavy
rain, filling him with warmth.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I’d like that.”
There was no reason why that should’ve made him so happy.
But it did.