Chapter 14 No One Ever Again
No One Ever Again
Isla
The day arrived for me to leave, and I held it together, forbidding myself from bawling my eyes out. God-fucking-damn it. I didn’t want to leave him. I got so used to having Roman around.
I hated—hated to admit that after witnessing what happened the other night, I wanted him more than ever. But it wasn’t just physical attraction. I knew that my feelings were real, deeper. I wanted all of him.
The light knock on my door at seven thirty in the morning kicked me into high gear, and I quickly threw on an oversized t-shirt.
With my hair wet, no bra, no shorts, I appeared in front of him the same way I looked when I first arrived—like a disaster, but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to say goodbye to him.
And Roman…well, Roman always looked like he was about to step on a fucking red carpet or something. His raven-colored hair was slicked back like usual, he wore a freshly pressed shirt and black pants, and shoes that were worth more than my entire life, probably.
"I came to give you a hug and say goodbye and say I'm going to miss living with you." He spoke in one breath. He looked dejected, and in a sick way, it made me happy because I was devastated to say goodbye.
"I'm sure you will! Who’s going to cook for you now? Who's going to teach you how to make proper coffee? Who's going to watch you fuck on the couch?" I joked, eliciting a smile. Ugh, his smile!
He didn't say anything else, just stretched out his arms, and I slowly stepped into them, melting into the warmest, softest, most wanted hug of my life.
I could have stayed there forever. Just in his arms, in a hug, I didn't care about anything else.
He held me so gently, leaning in, and it was just so easy to lift up my head and meet his eyes and see. ..what would happen?
I recognized what was happening in my body—elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, clammy hands, and heat in every corner of me. So I let go first, realizing it was prolonging too much.
With a quick "bye", he walked out of the front door and out of my life.
I arrived in my apartment with a heavy heart and a lump in my throat. This was my new place, but it was actually ancient.
Dread overpowered all of me. Roman maybe would stay a friend, but that was it. Our circumstances, or rather, my circumstances, brought us together, and there really was no other reason for us to see each other.
He was a big bad man, and I was a small, good girl. He lived like he had ten lives, and I tried to salvage whatever I had.
He was darkness. I was light.
Mechanically, I powered on through the motions of the day and cleaned while waiting for my bed and mattress to be delivered.
I went grocery shopping, bought some curtains, and washed the bedsheets, and, overall, tried to get all the necessities together, doing my best not to think about him all day.
Finally, at quarter past five, the doorbell rang—my bed, finally. I swung the front door open, expecting to see movers, but instead, there was Roman! His perfect smile stunned all my senses, and the divine smell of him infiltrated my soul. Fuck, he was perfect.
"Pizza delivery!" he quipped and raised the pizza box in one hand, a champagne bottle in the other. I physically stopped myself from lunging in for a hug. All of me exploded in joy! This man! This man evoked inexplicable feelings inside me.
"What?! How did you—what are you doing here?! How did you know where I lived?!" I couldn't even formulate a sentence.
"Come on, Isla. Give me some credit.” He leaned against the doorframe, all casual and relaxed, but then he threw me an expectant look and lowered his voice. “Are you going to invite me in or...?" Fuck, he spoke so playfully and without thinking, I stepped aside.
He strolled right in toward the kitchen island, placing the pizza and champagne on the counter. And then, I fucking did it—I leaned in for a hug, initiating it fully, probably catching him by surprise.
Slowly, his large arms wrapped around my body just like this morning, and I sighed into his chest. Being so close to him did something fucking rotten to me. I wanted to rip his clothes off and just stay with him forever.
"Wow, you missed me that much, huh?” His little remark made me giggle.
"It's been a long day." It really hadn't; I was just so relieved to see him again. Having him in my own apartment was the strangest feeling—like he was a boyfriend that came over. But at this thought I let go and stepped back.
"What's your plan here? You're going to sleep on the floor?" Roman looked around the empty space, his words echoing.
"The bed and mattress are supposed to be delivered any minute. I also have to put up some curtains."
"The light is so nice here; curtains would ruin it." He took a step toward the window and looked out, having no idea how much I enjoyed watching him in what was now my place.
"Just because you like to live like some kind of exhibitionist without any curtains or blinds doesn't mean all of us want our neighbors to see us naked," I replied, distracted with putting some cups into a cabinet.
At this though, he promptly turned around and sauntered over to me, his hands in his pockets, all of him smelling divine. And I could definitely smell him because he stopped a little too close for comfort, watching what I was doing.
"You like to walk around naked?" he questioned with his deep, delicious, fucking sexy voice.
"Doesn't everyone?" I asked, not turning around, but his stare was burning a hole in my skin.
Wait a second.
Wait.
A.
Second.
I figured Roman wanted to fuck—of course—he fucks any girl that comes his way, but.
..suddenly, and so intensely, it dawned on me that maybe he just..
.liked me. I didn't know why that was the precise moment the thought hit me, but my mind plunged into all the events of the last month and everything that was said and done between us.
Understanding pierced through me like a bolt of lightning.
Did…did Roman like me? My tiny shorts and t-shirt that barely covered my midriff now felt scandalous. Especially because his eyes were glued to me, slowly taking in my little outfit.
Tell me what you like, baby. Tell me what you want me to do to you.
You like it, baby?
Yes, fuck, you’re taking me like such a good girl.
I stared up into his eyes, the live sex show he put on for me floating to the forefront of my mind. Everything he said…was that…was that for me? He stared at me the entire time while he was inside that woman.
You did great.
Incredible fucking tension bloomed between us. It was dead silent except for the tiny breaths I took as Roman stood in front of me, so close but so foreign.
Nervous waves ran down my legs as the thoughts turned over in my mind, and all at once, this was too hot, too dangerous…too fucking tempting. I had imagined his naked body pressed against mine a million times, but suddenly…it felt like a real possibility.
"You liked watching me naked?" he whispered shamelessly, his gaze travelling down my face. It took me a second to process what he said, but as if possessed, I decided I would play his game and see where that took me.
"Sure. You have a nice body," I responded quietly and gulped nervously.
"But not your type, right? Strong body, big dick. Not for you, right?" Alright. Obviously, he wanted me to admit I wanted him on top of me, but...he wasn’t going to win this game. I would never admit it.
"That's right. That's the second time you’ve said you have a big dick, by the way. How fucking proud of it are you?" I joked, trying to break the tension somehow.
"Clearly, you're interested since you're keeping track." He didn't even hesitate, and fuck, he wasn't wrong.
Slowly, I turned back toward the kitchen and placed another cup in the cabinet, acutely aware that Roman remained where he was, his eyes planted on my ass. "You have a staring problem," I added.
"Sorry. You have a nice ass; what do you want me to do?" I want you to fucking smack it and fuck me from behind; that's what I want, Roman.
I whirled around, responding on impulse. "Just nice?! Wrong. I have an amazing ass. I know that!" Wow, the shock from my own words went straight to my cheeks. Where did this incredible confidence and arrogance come from?! He was rubbing off on me in more ways than I wanted to admit.
But again, he responded without missing a beat.
“So, then you can guess the kinds of thoughts that occupy my mind when you wear shorts like that, fuck, Isla.” He said it with a bit of venom, his beautiful blue eyes on mine once more.
My face burned, and he noticed. "Judging by how much you're blushing, you can guess.
But I don't think I'm the only one...having these thoughts, am I? "
Dear Lord.
He took a step closer, a loud exhale escaping me at the action. But Roman was Roman—I never forgot that, and I wasn’t going to become one in a collection of his fuck buddies, no matter how much I wanted his dick inside me.
In a second, I composed myself and placed my hand to his chest, creating a physical barrier. "Stop. You're not going to bend me over the countertop and fuck me like one of your replaceable whores. No matter how much you want it." The gravity of my words surprised him, and he froze, lost for words.
Divine intervention occurred in that moment when a loud knock interrupted and deescalated the moment. I sidestepped him and headed for the door, directing the mattress delivery movers into my bedroom.
"You want help putting the frame and headboard together?" Roman appeared in the bedroom doorway, relaxed, as if nothing just happened between us in the kitchen. "And curtains?" he added hopefully.
I simply nodded, afraid to open my mouth and say more dangerous things. He left and came back a few minutes later with a drill. "You always just carry a drill with you?" I asked, amused, taking the plastic off the mattress.
"I have one in my car, obviously. Never know when you have to drill through someone's temple." He smiled so sweetly at those words, but a chill ran down my spine. Who would say or even think that?
In no time, he put the bed frame and headboard together, impressing me with his skills.
That would have taken me literal hours. He then hung up the curtain rods and helped me put the curtains up.
Immediately, the place looked homey and cozy, and I loved it, especially with Roman standing in the middle of the room.
"Thanks for helping me. Again." I expressed my gratitude as I pulled my freshly laundered bedsheet over the mattress.
"You're just such a big helper, Roman." A tiny bit of sarcasm seeped through.
"Housing me. Feeding me. Helping me put the curtain rods up.
I could never repay you." My tone was playful as I reached for a pillow, and Roman still stood on the other side of the bed, not helping me and waiting for me to finish.
"I'm sure I can think of a form of repayment." He spoke lightly and picked up a pillowcase.
Oh no, it was happening again. Evidently, as soon as I moved out, he decided it was morally okay to get me into bed. "Yeah? Tell me." I pushed it further, a minute away from confronting him.
"Make me dinner one day." He shrugged. Relieved at his words, I perked up, but then he put the nail in the coffin. "And then spend the night with me in my bed." He threw the pillowcase down, his eyes on mine, the stare provocative and unyielding.
There it was—he was finally straightforward, and I just stood there, formulating a comeback. Taking my time, I walked to his side of the bed, never looking away.
"I'm not a one-night kind of girl, Roman. And you're not a more than one-night kind of guy. Did you make it your mission to bed me the minute I left your house?" I pronounced every word carefully, making sure he heard me.
Like the devil that he was, he remained in one spot, eating me up with his eyes, not a smidgeon of discomfort on his face. But then, he took a step toward me. And then another, and another, and another!
I stepped back on instinct, all the oxygen magically vanishing from my lungs once more. His footsteps echoed in the small, empty room, and the distance between us reduced within seconds. Like a scared little animal, I backed away until my back hit the wall, having no place to go.
Fuck me, I was about to pass out at what was happening.
Roman was fully in charge, his large body dominating mine and extinguishing all light and oxygen, like always.
Pressed up against the wall, I watched how he took a final step forward, his body making slight contact with mine and pushing an unrestrained gasp out of me.
I was praying, praying to God that he would fucking rip my clothes off. My mind oscillated between wanting to never give in and wanting to only have his hands on me.
"Not one night. Every night. Every night in my bed. Just you, no one else. No one ever again...only you. You're so fucking oblivious, Isla." Pain sounded so clearly in his voice, and he furrowed his eyebrows, searching my eyes for understanding.
But I understood nothing at that moment. Only that the softest, warmest touch landed on my cheek, his hand barely ghosting over my skin. He was so gentle, so careful, like he was afraid I would break. My eyes slipped shut involuntarily, blazing heat burning my skin.
I was speechless, stunned, and dumbfounded. I couldn’t look at him, avoiding his eyes like the plague. I wanted this. So. Fucking. Much. But in my heart, I knew he was a player and nothing else. He more than proved it two days ago, making me watch him fuck a girl.
So what was he talking about then? Only me? No one else?
As quickly as we ended up in this situation, he stepped back, roaming his eyes on all of me. "That dinner is this Saturday. I'll send you what to wear. Be ready at seven.”
And with that swift change in attitude, he walked out of my room and out of my apartment, leaving me pressed against the wall, conflicted, disoriented, and turned on beyond belief.
Roman didn't do the one-girl thing.