Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
JESSE
I glare at the cooking pan filled with cupcakes still in the oven, as if it’s its fault for being hot and not mine for trying to take it out without wearing a fucking mitten.
Cupcakes safely out, I put my fingers under cold, running water, and sigh, shaking my head at myself.
Honestly, I should be grateful I didn’t burn the damn things.
No, I should be proud I could even focus enough to make them with the way I’m constantly distracted.
A pleasant shiver travels through me just thinking about the last couple of weeks, pressing my lips together to smother the stupid smile I get every time I move around and delicious aches echo all over my body.
The only time Roman and I are ever really apart from each other is when we are at work, because when we’re at home…
God, we can’t stop fucking, or touching, or being fucking glued to each other.
If I’m not climbing him like a tree the minute he’s in through the door, he’s seeking me out, picking me up and flattening me on the nearest surface until we’re both moaning and groaning in each other’s mouth.
These days I can’t even sleep unless his dick is still inside me.
But it’s not just that. My body may be buzzing from the spectacular worshipping it’s been getting on a daily basis, but it’s the way Roman has been acting towards me that has my heart stuttering and my head spacing out.
I didn’t really notice it at first since we’ve always gravitated towards each other, even in the past, but it feels different now.
If we’re in the same room, he’s never not touching me.
I could be cooking and he’ll be nuzzling my hair or kissing my neck, stroking my back or slipping his hand under my shirt to feel my skin.
It’s not even sexual half of the time. It’s like he just needs to feel me in some way.
And no matter what he might be doing, if I enter the room, his gaze always follows me, his dark eyes falling on me like the gentlest caress that makes me melt, or tracking me with a predatory glint that makes my blood heat and my dick hard.
It feels like—like he’s slowly letting himself go, letting himself be perfectly needy and addictively possessive, letting me see all of it.
And I want it.
I want it so much that I hate it when we’re not together and his eyes aren’t on me, so much that it feels like I’m adrift if I don’t have his hands on me.
I can still see the way he sometimes tries to reign himself in, to tone it all down, afraid he’ll make me feel smothered or overwhelmed.
It’s those times exactly that I find myself going to him, addicted to the way his eyes shine with relief and so much more when he sees me approaching him, when I straddle his lap and listen to him talk about the designs he made, or when I kiss him until we lose track of time, until we forget everything else exists.
I have no idea how it’s already been a month since I came here.
Something twinges in my chest at the thought that there’s only a few weeks left until the end of the program, or that I don’t know what’s going to happen next.
I mean, the reason I started living here in the first place was because of this job.
I was only supposed to be here for a couple of months and now—
I shake myself out of this fucking mood I managed to land myself into in a span of 0.2 seconds of being ridiculously happy. I will not let anything ruin my time with Roman.
I want—I want to feel everything, to think about nothing else. Nothing else but me and him.
My Roman with his blue jay tattoo over his heart.
As if he wanted to carry me on him forever.
Fuck, it’s really no wonder I almost singed off my fingertips.
My phone rings, drawing my attention to the screen, wincing when I see Molly’s name flashing.
“Before you say anything, you’re right,” I tell her, right after I put her on speaker.
“Oh, is that so? And what am I right about? Please feel free to elaborate.”
I groan and she snickers.
“You’re right that I should have kept more in touch and I’m sorry I haven’t. Things just got really busy.”
Understatement of the century.
“Well, that’s no fun. How am I supposed to bitch to you about it now? I’ll feel like an asshole.”
“Weeell—”
“Oh, fuck off, Jesse.”
I’m whizzing when I tell her, “I missed you too, Mols.”
“So, how have you been?” she asks at the same time the front door opens and Roman comes in.
My breath whooshes out of me when he turns around and finds me in the kitchen, his dark eyes blazing and a soft smile tipping his lips.
Fuck, he looks so good with his hair all disheveled from the motorcycle helmet, all sexy in black.
I open my mouth to greet him when my phone crackles with my friend’s voice.
“Uh, babes? Are you still there?”
Who I completely forgot about.
You’re such a great friend, Jesse. Really. Good job.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here,” I croak, my throat suddenly dry as I watch Roman zero in on the voice on the phone and then on me, holding me captive in his gaze.
“Sorry, I got distracted for a minute.” The look he gives me is enough to set me on fire, so I do the only logical thing and look away before I expire in the middle of the kitchen. “What did you ask me?”
“How you have been,” she replies in a tone that sounds fully amused.
“Oh, I’ve been fine. Yeah, it’s all fine. Work is fine, the kids are fine, it’s all fine.”
A warm chest appears suddenly at my back, the heat from Roman’s body bleeding into mine as his tattooed arms cage me in against the counter and he dips his head to nuzzle my throat.
Oh fuck, this is bad. This is so bad.
I still tilt my neck to give him more room, my body pressing tightly against his.
“Is there a reason your vocabulary is suddenly extremely limited?” Molly asks, and the bastard who’s currently making sure my last few brain cells are no longer functioning, chuckles low in my ear.
“Nope, no reason at all.”
“Mmm,” she hums skeptically. “So, everything’s been fine.”
Roman’s hand comes up to tip my chin up, holding it in place so he can pepper kisses on my jawline.
“Yep.”
“And work is fine.”
His other hand releases the counter and his fingers splay on my midriff, the simple touch enough to make my skin erupt in goosebumps.
“Mhm.”
“And all is fine.”
Those fingers start playing teasingly with the band of my shorts, reducing my awareness to only that spot.
“Exactly.”
“You met someone.”
“Wh-What?” I say, trying to sound like I’m genuinely perplexed and not horny as hell. “What makes you think that?”
“Babe, you can barely string two sentences together. It’s like you’re completely elsewhere. And I don’t know, you say you’re fine and it sounds like you actually are. For once.”
A blush rises to my cheeks at Molly’s words, Roman growing still behind me.
Fuck, I can feel the way his heart is beating hard against my back.
“Oh! Is it that guy you went out with before you left? What was it, Dennis? Daniel?”
I can feel the shift in the air around us as if it were a physical thing, Roman’s hands tightening on me, his palm hot on my belly pulling me so close I feel every inch of how hard he is, his mouth sucking a bruising kiss on my neck.
His touch is so possessive I have to bite myself to stop the moan building in my throat, my eyes fluttering at the firm hold he has on me, my heart soaring at the way he clings to me.
“No,” I manage to breathe out. “No, we never spoke again. Hey, Molly? Can I call you later? I have to take care of something but I promise I’ll give you my full attention later.”
“Of course. Go take care of your something.” Yeah, she definitely knows what’s up, judging by her gleeful tone. “But I want all the details.”
“Deal,” I choke out, ending the call and melting back against Roman.
I whimper loudly when he sucks harder, his hand cupping my cock and balls possessively over my shorts and underwear.
“Roman…”
“I need to touch you, Blue. Can I make you come? I need to feel you come,” he grates out, voice deep and desperate as he massages me through the material, making me lose my mind. “Please, baby.”
Fuck, I’ll never get over him asking for my permission, my dick jumping in my panties.
I wrap one arm around his neck, arching my body against his, craving the growl that rumbles in his chest.
“Make me feel good, Ro,” I rasp out, turning my head to whisper my next words on his lips. “Like the good boy you are.”
His eyes are black as they fix on me, a shudder going through him as his hand slips inside and fists my cock.
And fuck, I love it. I love that it feels like he’s giving me all the power.
I love that even though he’s a fucking beast, he still trembles when I call him a good boy.
Because he needs it, he needs to be good for me, he needs to hear it, to know that he’s so damn good to me, that he’s enough, that he’s not too much. That he’s perfect.
“Give me your hand,” I tell him, never taking my eyes off him as I spit in his palm and wrap him around me once more.
“Fuck, Jesse,” he whispers roughly, slick sounds filling the kitchen as he works me fast and ruthlessly. “I want to be so good for you.”
“You are,” I whisper back, hissing when he slides lower and plays with my balls.
“You’re so fucking good for me. Oh, God—” I brace against him, letting my head fall back on his shoulder, driving into his fist as he pumps me in sure movements, pulling the orgasm out of me.
“You’re gonna make me come so hard for you. ”
“Yeah,” he breathes harshly, mouthing my neck, my cheek, the shell of my ear. “Come on, Blue. Give it to me.”
He strokes me tight and fast, and when he twists the head, my body seizes as if it’s been struck by electricity, coming in his hand until I’m completely spent and I’ve given him everything, until a weak whimper leaves my mouth from oversensitivity.