Chapter 43
Dancing on stage with a group of male strippers had never been on Roman’s bucket list, but now that it was over, it ranked
as one of the top five most fun and empowering things he’d ever done in his life.
Making time for rehearsals had involved twisting himself into a pretzel, and there had been moments where he’d felt positively
ancient compared to the other guys, but learning the moves and choreography had invigorated him. The experience reminded him
of acting opposite Ashton back when they were young, and it had also brought him closer to Gabe, whom Roman now considered
a friend. Not only that, it had given him a taste of the freedom and spontaneity he had so far only attributed to his liaisons
with Ava.
Roman hadn’t felt this alive in ages.
Getting to do it all in front of Ava had been the icing on the stripper cake. The way she’d looked at him, her eyes shining
with a mixture of admiration, arousal, and something he didn’t dare name, had made him feel ten feet tall. Every rescheduled
meeting and the nights he’d spent babying his lower back had been worth it.
She’d looked absolutely gorgeous in that sparkly green dress that showed off her long legs and curves, with her curls falling in seductive little spirals around her beautiful face. He’d wanted to pull her up on stage and kiss that dark, sexy lipstick right off her lush mouth. Limiting himself to a few winks and heated glances had used every ounce of his restraint, and he didn’t know how he was going to get through the rest of this wedding pretending he wasn’t completely captivated by her.
Not only that, he was bursting at the seams to tell her what else he’d been working on. But it wasn’t the kind of thing one
said via text or even video call. He had to get her alone. Somehow.
After giving Ava’s mom a lap dance—he’d recognized her from photos—and finishing the group number, Roman went backstage with
Ashton and Gabe. Three actual members of The Adonis Experience replaced them, and the show continued.
“Good work, viejos,” Gabe said, shooting a grin at Roman and Ashton as they trooped into the dressing room. “Didn’t think
you old guys would be able to keep up.”
Ashton threw a towel at him, the one he’d just used to mop the sweat from his face. “You’re talking to two professional actors.
We weren’t the ones whining about being embarrassed.”
“And that was before you knew their mothers would be there,” Roman teased.
“Why didn’t Michelle warn us?” Ashton groaned.
“Because she’s a chaos demon.” Gabe passed them cartons of water from the dressing room’s mini fridge.
Ashton pulled a change of clothes out of his locker. “I’m never going to be able to look my mother-in-law in the face again.”
Roman counted his blessings that his own mom and sister weren’t arriving until the next day.
“Speaking of mothers,” Gabe said, turning to Roman. “I thought for sure you were going to dance for Ava. Did you know that was her mom you were grinding on?”
“Yes, and I barely touched her.”
“But why not just dance with Ava?”
Roman’s jaw tightened as he retrieved his stuff from his own locker. “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to.” He’d really fucking wanted to . “But I didn’t want to upset her.”
“She still wants to keep the relationship a secret?” Gabe asked, and Roman nodded.
Ashton had fallen unusually quiet, so Roman added, “Don’t worry, I’m going to remind her tonight to tell Jasmine before the
wedding.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ashton didn’t look at him. “You’d better.”
They cleaned up and changed, then went to meet the rest of the bachelor party guests in the resort’s night club. The plan
was for Michelle to bring everyone to join them when the show was over.
Roman was sipping a rum and Coke while chatting with Ashton’s father, Ignacio, when the bachelorette contingent arrived. The
volume skyrocketed as the boisterous group filed in, led by Jasmine’s grandmother and aunts. Roman automatically looked for
Ava. She wasn’t difficult to spot, since she towered above all her relatives and most of Jasmine’s friends. Their eyes met,
and he had the surreal experience of everything else falling away. He was dimly aware of Ignacio talking to him, of the Bad
Bunny song playing overhead, of the press of the crowd and the lingering sweetness of cola on his tongue. But the only real,
true thing for him in that instant was Ava.
He loved her with his entire heart. And he was so fucking tired of hiding it.
Excusing himself from Ignacio, Roman drifted toward her. She saw him, and her eyes took on a knowing expression. She parted from the crowd and tilted her head toward the hallway that led to the restrooms. When he nodded, she made her way back.
Roman waited a few seconds, then followed her. There were several individual stalls and a communal sink area. The row of hanging
Edison bulbs cast a low, warm light over the space, and despite the grunge industrial décor, everything was clean. They locked
themselves in the largest stall and were on each other in seconds.
“That was so fucking hot.” Her words were muffled against his lips.
Roman licked into her mouth. “You liked it?”
A throaty sigh. “I loved it.”
“All for you, mi vida.” And then he kissed her soundly, soaking in the feel of her body, warm against his, and the taste of
rosé on her tongue.
Two weeks was too long to be away from this woman. Hell, two days was too long.
Never again , he vowed. His plans had been set in motion, and once all was said and done, he wouldn’t be separated from her for that long
ever again.
“I can’t believe you gave my mom a lap dance and not me,” she said when she came up for air. Her voice carried a breathless,
pouting tone, and he chuckled against the sensitive skin below her ear.
“You don’t want anyone to know about us.” He dragged his lips down her neck, sucking and biting. Not hard enough to leave
a mark, although the thought did occur to him.
“I know, but...” It came out like a whine.
“Trust me, Ava.” His voice was husky as he pulled the neck of her dress aside to taste her. “If I’d given you a lap dance, everyone would know how I feel about you. I wouldn’t have been able to hide it.”
The hand pressed to his chest trailed downward, her fingers tracing each shirt button, his belt buckle, and lower. Her nails
scraped lightly over the bulge in his slacks, eliciting an intense wave of desire that made him shudder.
“You mean this?” The words were nearly a purr as she cupped him, molding the fabric over his thickening length.
He caught her chin and angled her head so he could search her eyes. “What are we doing, Ava? Are we going to fuck in this
bathroom?” It came out rough, propelled by his quickening pulse.
“I was imagining it,” she admitted, her tone almost shy even as she continued to fondle him through his pants. “While I was
watching you on stage. I was picturing us just like this...”
“Like this, huh?” There were things they had to talk about, important things that were on the tip of his tongue, but it had
been weeks since he’d seen her, and even longer since he’d touched her intimately.
Fuck it. Everything else could wait. He needed to make her come, needed to feel her warmth and hear her gasps of pleasure.
“Or maybe like this?” He skimmed his hands along her thighs, pushing the short dress up her luscious hips. One thumb slid
toward her heat and he was hit with a jolt of lust when he found her completely bare.
And soaked.
He glanced down at his fingers, slick with her arousal. “Look at you, all wet and ready for me.”
“I missed you.” There was more than lust in her tone, something deep and complex that had his heart stuttering in his chest. Reading her emotions was like teasing out the flavor notes in an exquisitely aged rum, more of an art than a science, but one that became second nature with time.
But he wouldn’t push her on it now. Instead, he kissed her, slow and thorough, while he plied her sensitive flesh. She clung
to his shoulders and whimpered into his mouth, her hips rocking in a rhythm known only to the two of them.
His dick was so hard he thought it was going to burst through his pants, but this was for her, and as much as he wanted to,
he wasn’t going to fuck her standing up during another wedding event.
There would be time later to lay her out and cherish her the way she deserved. Or to let her take the reins.
After all, he was aiming for forever.
Soon, her kisses became bruising. Taking that as his cue, Roman sped up his ministrations, dipping his fingers into her wet
heat just enough to tease before focusing his attention back on her clit. His other arm wound around her waist, holding her
up.
Ava came with a sharp gasp, throwing her head back. Roman plunged a finger into her channel, grunting when she clenched around
him in rhythmic pulses. It was a dim echo of how she felt coming around his dick, but still enough to have him nearly spilling
in his pants.
When she sagged against him, he slipped his hand from between her legs and held her close.
“I missed you too,” he whispered into her ear, and her arms tightened around his neck.
They stayed like that, just hugging, until the squeak of another stall door broke into the haze that had surrounded him since Ava had walked into the club.
Reality came crashing back, and Roman heaved a deep sigh. A bathroom stall wasn’t the place for important conversations.
“Sorry,” Ava whispered, drawing back once they heard the person use the sink and leave. Her hand drifted to his pants again.
“Do you want me to—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “No, mi amor. It’s not that.” God, she thought he was sighing because he hadn’t gotten
his rocks off. It made him want to show her again how much giving her pleasure brought him pleasure too.
“I just wish we were alone, so we could catch up properly,” he said. “We have a lot to talk about.”
She pulled her skirt back down. “Maybe at the hotel?” she said softly. “I could sneak over to your room—”
“Ava.” He pitched his voice low, aware that someone else might enter the bathroom area at any moment. “I’m tired of sneaking
around.”
She froze, a wary look entering her eyes, and he forged on before she could misunderstand.
“Ashton knows. Gabe and Michelle know.” He let that sink in. He’d found out about Michelle during rehearsals with Gabe, and
he’d been sort of annoyed, sort of hurt that Ava hadn’t told him herself. When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “It’s
time to tell Jasmine.”
She was already shaking her head before he finished. “No. We said after the wedding.”
“ You said,” he pointed out. “But when? At the reception? Before she leaves for her honeymoon? After she gets back?”
She was shutting down before his eyes, her mouth pinching, her shoulders drawing inward. He cupped her arms and kept his tone gentle, willing her to stay with him.
“Ava, I understand that you’re worried, but keeping this secret is hurting you. For your own peace of mind, I think you should
tell her. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” The word held a note of panic. “Why tonight?”
He should tell her that Ashton had issued an ultimatum, but he wanted her to do this on her own, not because there was suddenly
an external deadline.
Somehow, telling Jasmine about their relationship had become synonymous with Ava accepting Roman into her heart. He couldn’t
have explained why he thought that, but there it was.
“She’ll want to know sooner rather than later,” he reasoned. “And this has the potential to affect your relationship. Especially
since the others know.”
That got through to her. Her eyebrows drew together and her expression turned thoughtful. After a moment, she closed her eyes
and let out a heavy sigh.
“I should have told her after the engagement party, instead of dragging this out.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry about the past. Just talk to her. She loves you.”
When she opened her eyes, there was a wealth of pain in their depths, but she nodded. “I’ll try.”
Roman wanted to believe her. He really did.
But just in case, he mentally prepared himself for the fallout when Ashton broke the news to Jasmine himself.
As for his own update, he’d get Ava alone tomorrow so he could tell her somewhere that wasn’t a public bathroom.