Chapter 27 #2
“Have I told you that you’re fucking evil?” he rumbles, the sound vibrating through me.
“You love it,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Always,” he whispers back, before his tongue is in my mouth again and time slips away for several, long, perfect minutes.
It’s a good thing it’s so damn early.
Until it’s not.
One hour, one hasty breakfast, and one hundred distractions later, I’m ready in my jeans and favorite pink T-shirt with little rainbows, small backpack thrown over one shoulder, heading outside to meet Roman, who’s already waiting for me.
Except I almost trip over my own damn feet when I see him, straddling a sleek, black motorcycle.
Fucking Christ. Just when I thought this man couldn’t get any hotter, there he is, casual as ever, in his black T-shirt and jeans, his messy, black hair, his thick thighs tensing and his strong arms on show, like he’s not making me stupid by just standing there.
His eyes are gleaming when he spots me.
“You okay over there?” he asks in a voice dripping with amusement.
Gorgeous asshole.
“Of course.” I clear my throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugs, his gaze fixed on mine as I approach him, stopping just inches from him.
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not! It’s summer. I’m hot.”
The grin he flashes me is all teeth.
“Trust me, baby. I know how hot you are.”
Oh, God.
“Fuck, Roman,” I groan.
“Maybe later,” he shoots back, and I’ve never wanted him more. “Now, wear this first. I’m not taking any chances with you.”
My eyes fall to the leather jacket he’s holding, and my stomach flutters.
“Is this yours?” I ask as I put it on and zip it closed, smoke and peppermint wrapping around me.
“Yes.” The word is low and hoarse as he takes in the image of me in his jacket. “But this one is yours,” he adds, handing me a dark blue helmet.
I blink at it.
“You got me a helmet?” He nods, and my heart beats violently in my chest. “When?”
“After we had that conversation on the couch.”
Oh.
“I thought I might actually get to give you a ride someday, so I wanted to be ready.”
Oh fuck, my chest hurts.
“Thank you, Roman.”
His eyes melt into something warm and soft as he tucks my hair behind my ear, grazing my cheek, before he smiles and nods.
And when we’re riding in the open road minutes later, heading downtown, my knees on either side of his hips, my arms wrapped around his midsection, I hold onto him just a little bit tighter.
For safety reasons, of course.
Not because it feels like he’ll fucking disappear if I loosen my hold.
Or because it feels like my limbs should always be wrapped around him.
Of course not.
I’m so fucking hopeless, so fucking gone for this man it’s not even funny, and so fucking terrified something will change and I’ll lose him again.
I plaster myself even harder on him, so tightly that when he stops at some traffic lights, one of his hands covers mine where it’s fisting his shirt, holding it against him.
Something settles inside me, some of the tension leaving my body.
I bet he felt it. He felt it and he’s comforting me.
I smile, even though he can’t see it.
Maybe today is shaping up to be a great day.
***
I’m already regretting asking Roman to come the minute we set foot inside and Betty’s eyes widen behind her thick glasses.
I might not have thought this through.
“Good morning, Betty! Looking wonderful as ever. Is that a new dress?” I give her a blinding smile, hoping I can distract her enough to slip past her.
Betty of course, who has treated me like a grandson since I started here, simply narrows her eyes at me, peering straight into my soul from behind the welcoming desk until I’m sweating.
“You’ve seen this dress no less than five times already.”
“Oh, have I? How silly of me. Anyway, we should get going. I have so much stuff to prepare before the kiddos get here,” I say, attempting to make a quick escape.
Which I don’t.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Her voice stops me, her brown eyes glinting with interest as they turn towards Roman.
Roman, who, for some reason, looks very amused.
“Oh, right! This is my—uh,” Ex-stepbrother? Roommate? Friend? Soulmate? “Roman. This is my Roman. I mean—Roman. Just Roman.”
Christ. Fucking kill me now.
I don’t dare look at Roman, but Betty has no such reservations.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Roman,” she says, literally biting herself not to laugh.
Great.
So many regrets right now.
“You too,” comes Roman’s deep voice from my left.
“Alright, then. Let me know if you need anything, sweetie. Okay?”
Oh, so now I’m back to sweetie, huh?
“Sure, Betty. I’ll let you know.”
“Though you probably seem to have everything covered,” she deadpans.
“You know what? I don’t like you anymore, Betty.”
I can hear her chuckling until I get all the way to the back, where the tables we’re going to be using today are.
Where there’s currently no one but me and Roman.
A shiver goes through me when a strong arm wraps around my waist, and I find myself leaning against a warm, hard chest.
Roman’s eyes are almost mahogany in the morning sunlight slipping through the library windows.
“Your Roman?” he asks in a low, intimate voice that burrows under my skin.
His heart is thundering when I place my palm on his chest and nod.
“Your Blue?” I whisper to him, hating the insecurity that creeps into my own voice.
But it all melts away when he molds us together, his eyes never looking away as he lowers his head and kisses me, my breath stuttering out of me as he gently sucks on my bottom lip, breathing one word inside me after he’s done.
“Mine.”
God, I want that so damn bad.
I sigh in his hold, wishing we had more time like this.
“Can I just say one thing before you help me set up the chairs and materials for everyone?”
He huffs out a soft laugh.
“Did you ask me to come to put me to work?”
“Of course. What did you think?” I snort while teasing the collar of his T-shirt. More ink. Why the fuck haven’t I still seen how far the ink goes?
His face is glowing, so different from last night, and my chest fills with warmth.
“Tell me your thing.”
“You looked really good on your motorcycle.”
Roman’s eyes are blazing, his arm flexing around me.
“You felt really good wrapped around me.”
I inhale harshly, shaking my head while my eyes briefly slide shut in surrender.
“This was a bad idea.”
“It was?” he mutters, nuzzling my temple, the amusement evident.
“So bad. You’ll be such a big distraction.”
Fuck, he loves hearing that. His eyes are practically devouring me.
“What if I promise to be good?”
I glare at him and he laughs.
I can’t get enough of him laughing.
“You’ll pay for all this, you know,” I tell him and a satisfied sound rumbles at the back of his throat.
“I know, Blue.”
And even though my pulse never fully goes back to normal after our conversation, the day goes by surprisingly fast, which I’m deeply thankful for because my concentration is practically non-existent.
Which I have no one to blame for, since I was the one who invited Roman, and therefore, I should have known what it would actually mean having him here—namely, my eyes always straying to the far-off armchair he’s sitting in, sketchpad on his knee, the skin at the back of my neck tingling whenever I’m not looking his way but feeling his gaze on me nonetheless, him smiling softly every time our eyes meet.
No wonder three kids have had to actually tug on my clothes to get my attention when they finished their reading assignment. And I swear I catch Roman smirking every time that happens.
I want to kiss that fucking smirk off his face.
But it’s a fun day, with lots of games and painting, and I fall into the routine I’ve picked up by now; helping the kids out whenever they have trouble with something, keeping them entertained and loving when I see them actually have fun, chattering and laughing with each other and me, and only falling silent when it’s story time.
Oh, God. Story time.
Of course, today is the day I have to do a prince, a princess, a dragon, and five different villagers, today that Roman is here, who tries to keep a straight face and fails miserably, which earns him my best glare for all of two seconds before we’re both snorting.
I fucking love it that he’s here, sketching, always seeking me out with his eyes, chuckling at some things the kids do, looking at me as if I’m the only thing that matters.
It’s intoxicating and it makes me feel like I can do anything.
My heart flutters the entire time, and before I know it, we’re already wrapping up for the day, waving goodbye at both kids and parents, some of the little ones stealing a quick hug or raising their palm for a hi five.
Roman is already watching me when I go to him.
“You’re not allowed to make one single comment,” I tell him in my best warning voice.
He presses his lips together.
“A comment about what?”
“You know exactly about what.”
“For the record, your princess voice needs a little work, but you make a mean dragon.”
“I will hit you.”
His dark eyes burn playfully.
“I always forget what a violent little thing you can be.”
I hum in agreement, running a finger over the vines and roses of his forearm, feeling the skin pebble under my touch.
There’s nothing playful about the way he’s looking at me now.
“You should never forget that, Roman.”
He nods, and the need to touch him more runs like electricity in my veins.
My voice is a bit hoarse when I speak.
“I have about one more hour here to clean up and to take care of some things for Monday since I’m not working tomorrow. Are you good to wait?”
“I’ll wait for as long as you want, Blue.”
Fuck, the way those words sound in my ears. And I think he knows exactly what they sound like.
“Do you want to go get something to eat?” he asks in his deep voice, the muscle jumping where I’m still touching him.
“No. I think I just want to go home.” I need to be alone with him.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his eyes boring into mine. “We should go home.”
Fuck. Me.