Chapter 8
The next day,Saturday, Roman gets up early, but I end up sleeping most of the day. I get up at some point in the afternoon to shower and eat something, but then I crawl right back into bed, opening my laptop to knock out some classwork. I’m so behind on everything, and I really need to get caught up.
I’m working on my digital collage for my visual anthropology class when
Roman walks in. He’s wearing nothing but his black swim trunks, and his tanned skin is glistening, his dark hair wet, like he just stepped out of the ocean. He must have been surfing.
“How were the waves today?” I ask.
But instead of answering me, he walks straight to the bathroom to grab a towel. When he steps back into the bedroom, he’s drying his hair. “Get up. Get ready.”
I blink at him, confused. “Get ready for what?”
“I’m taking you somewhere,” he says, walking into the closet.
Um. “I can’t. I have way too much classwork to catch up on.”
He walks over to the bed and pulls me up so I’m standing. “It’s not an option,” he says, pulling me against him. His mouth is so close to mine that I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. “You’re coming.”
I consider fighting him on it, but Roman can be so stubborn, I know fighting isn’t going to get me anywhere. In the end, I’ll do exactly what he tells me to do, anyway. So I might as well accept it now.
“Fine,” I say with a huff. “What should I wear?”
“A dress,” he says, stepping back with a smile. I know he gets off on bossing me around, and it makes me want to slap that smile right off his fuck-me face.
Pushing out a harsh breath, I move to the bathroom, thanking the universe that I shaved my legs earlier. I throw on some light makeup, brush my hair, and then move to the closet. I pick out the same sage dress I wore to Tyler’s tribunal, putting on a pair of strappy beige sandals.
I have no idea where we’re going, but this will have to do. I’m not wearing heels. That’s where I draw the line.
Roman is getting ready in the bathroom, and when he emerges, he’s wearing beige slacks, and a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his toned forearms.
Oooh, yes, daddy.
I lift my arms. “Is this okay?”
One side of his mouth curls up into a smile, and he steps forward, hooking his arm around my waist. “You’re perfect.”
I laugh. “Oh, I’m perfect? Not just the dress, eh?”
His lips hover over mine, and he’s still smiling playfully. “I said what I said.”
I touch my lips to his, luring him into a kiss. It’s long and warm and languid, and when his tongue pushes into my mouth, I actually sigh.
We’re getting pretty hot and heavy when a ding from one of our phones breaks the silence. Roman pulls back, and takes his phone out of his pocket, looking down at it.
“It’s Lucas. We’ve got to go,” he says, threading his fingers through mine.
Wait, what? “We’re going somewhere with Lucas?”
“You’ll see,” he says, pulling me out of the room, and down the stairs. We leave through the backdoor, but instead of getting into Roman’s car, we walk right past it, and onto campus.
Where in God’s name are we going?
In just a couple minutes, my question is answered, though, because we walk up to the faculty club on campus. It’s a centuries-old building that’s surrounded by a rose garden that’s in full bloom. It’s gorgeous, and as we approach, I notice several people are gathered.
“Is this some kind of event?” I ask, but as usual, he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to, actually, because as we get closer, it becomes apparent. There’s a large framed picture of Bree on an easel surrounded by huge, elegant bouquets of flowers.
Before we join the crowd, I pause, pulling Roman to a stop. He turns to look at me. “What is this?” I ask.
He turns to face me fully, squeezing my hand. “It’s a memorial for Bree,” he says, his eyes catching mine. “You never got to say goodbye.”
Tears immediately gather in my eyes, and I’m overcome with the emotion of confronting this right now with no warning whatsoever. “This was a dick move. You should have told me,” I say.
My harsh words don’t seem to phase him in the least. “If I’d told you, then you wouldn’t have come.” He takes my chin, tilting it up, so I’m looking directly at him. “And you need closure, Lux.”
I break when he says that. I just shatter right there in front of him, sinking against his chest, and letting the tears come. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to, anyway. The idea of saying a final goodbye to my best friend in the whole world is so incredibly painful that I wonder if I’ll ever shake the sadness.
Roman soothes me as I cry all over his crisp white shirt, running his fingers through my hair, swaying gently. He waits patiently as I let it all out, and when I’ve finally exhausted myself, he uses his cloth handkerchief to wipe my tears away.
I sniff and try to pull myself together. When I look down at his shirt, I notice my mascara has gotten all over it, black streaks bleeding into the fabric. “I ruined your shirt,” I say through sharp intakes of breath.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers, brushing the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “It’s just a shirt.”
The memorial is lovely. About fifty people from the Burning Crown, and the university at large come to pay their respects. Jackson, Christian, and Lucas are here, too, right by my side the entire time, helping host. The guys must have put this all together.
As I look around, I realize none of these people really knew Bree, but it was nice of them to show up for her anyway. Towards the end, I stand up and say a few words about Bree, and we all toast to her with our glasses of champagne held high.
She would have eaten this whole thing up. She loved being the center of attention, and this beautiful memorial is exactly what she deserved.
When it’s all over, Roman walks me back to Rush House. I’m exhausted, and I lean on him as we walk, my arm twisted around his. “Thank you for today,” I say, looking up at him. “It was nice of you to put that together for Bree.”
He glances down at me. “I didn’t do it for her.”
“Then thank you for me,” I say. “But you know what this means, don’t you? Today was indisputable evidence that you have a functioning heart, after all.”
He laughs under his breath. “You’ve managed to breathe some life into it, I guess.”
Over the next few weeks, Roman and I find a rhythm, falling into a new kind of normal. Classes during the day, fast food and television in bed in the evenings, and sex-filled nights. It’s a strange sort of bliss because beneath it all is an undercurrent of tension like we both know this is all going to end at some point, sooner or later.
It’s early on a Wednesday, when I roll out of bed and go downstairs to grab some coffee, drinking it out on the living room veranda, watching as the sun creeps up over the horizon.
When I get back up to Roman’s bedroom, he’s still sleeping, so I get dressed quietly. I’m tempted to blow off class and crawl back into bed with him, but I’ve already missed several lectures, and the more behind I get, the harder it will be to catch up.
“Where are you going?” Roman asks, rising up onto one arm, his voice rough from sleep. Goddamn, he looks so fucking hot first thing in the morning. Groggy, his wavy hair mussed, his expression relaxed.
I’m glancing over my shoulder at him as I zip up my jeans. “I have class. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Reaching over, he grabs ahold of my leg and yanks me back, so I lose my balance and fall on top of him. I yelp as he wraps his strong arms around me, and rolls me onto my back, so he’s on top. “Don’t leave.”
I laugh as I struggle to break free, but it’s pretty pointless. He’s half-on top of me, pinning me to the bed. “I can’t. I have class.”
Dipping his head, he presses his warm lips to my throat, kissing my skin languidly. It feels so nice, I tilt my head to the side, and consider giving in to him. It would be so nice to strip, and crawl back into the warm bed with him.
“I’ll have someone take notes for you,” he mumbles, kissing his way up my throat, to the underside of my chin. His tongue darts out to taste my skin.
“I really need to go,” I say, trying to twist out of his grip, but I can’t. He’s too strong. “But I’ll be back before you even wake up,” I say again, hoping that will satisfy him.
With a groan, he loosens his hold, and rolls off me, allowing me to wiggle out from under him. I crawl off the bed and stand before he can change his mind. When I turn back around to look at him, he’s sitting up against the headboard, watching me. He holds his pinky out to me. “Swear to me you’ll come right back.”
I stare at it, wondering if it’s just a ploy to capture me again.
“Do it, or I tackle you and keep you as my prisoner,” he says lazily.
With a sigh, I step forward and hook my pinky around his. “Fine, I pinky swear. Sheesh.”
He smiles and points at me. “A pinky swear is legally binding. Remember that.”
Shaking my head, I laugh and grab my backpack. “Who would have known there’s actually a nerd under that sexy surfer bod?”
“Birds of a feather,” he calls out as I leave, shutting the door behind me.
Class is super boring, and halfway through, I regret choosing this dull lecture over a morning in bed with Roman. But adulting, right? I can’t spend my entire life in bed with Roman, much as I’d like to. I have a GPA to maintain, otherwise, I could lose my scholarship.
Once class is over, I honor my pinky swear and head right back to Rush House. But when I open the door to Roman’s bedroom, I’m instantly hit with the delicate fragrance of freshly cut flowers. Roman is gone, and the entire room is filled, wall to wall with bouquets—peonies, roses, lilies, in every possible shade of pink or white.
I suck in a breath, shocked.
“What the…?” I walk over to the bouquet closest to me and read the note.
“There are two souls, whose equal flow…”
It looks like it’s a poem or something, spread out over several cards, so I grab them all and read them together.
“There are two Souls, whose equal flow
In gentle stream so calmly run,
That when they part—they part?—ah no!
They cannot part—those Souls are One.”
Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, and I blink them back. A quick search on my phone reveals it’s a poem by Lord Byron, and it’s about two souls becoming one.
What the fuck is happening? Does Roman have a brain lesion? Is it possible he had a stroke? Suddenly, I’m more worried than flattered.
Heavy footsteps approach the door, and I quickly tuck the cards into my pocket, spinning around just in time to see Roman walk through the door.
“Damn, I was hoping to get home before you,” he says with that devastating smile.
I turn and lift my hand, indicating the flowers. “What’s all this?”
Eating up the space between us with his long legs, he pulls me into his arms. “You’ve had a difficult few weeks, and I wanted you to know that I’ve got you.”
The handwritten note on the cards–the poem–speaks to a deep, soul connection, and I hold my breath, wondering if he’s going to mention it. Instead, he just presses a kiss to my forehead and smiles down at me.
Okay, if he won’t mention it, then I will. There’s no use beating around the bush. If Bree’s death has taught me anything, it’s that life is too short, and games are a waste of precious time.
“The poem was sweet.” I place my hand on his chest, and pull back a little, glancing up at him from under my lashes. “What does it mean?”
Beneath my palm, I can feel his heartbeat kick up a few notches. He pulls in a deep breath. “I’ll tell you,” he says, “but first, I have a surprise.”
I smile up at him. “Okay, what is it?”
He steps back, and takes my hand, then leads me out of the room, downstairs, and outside.
“Where are you taking me?” I laugh as he pulls me down the graveled path that leads down to the ocean, but halfway down that path, it forks off and leads to a wrought iron gate. Beyond that is an infinity hot tub that looks like it drops right off the edge of a cliff that overlooks the Pacific Ocean.
The hot tub was made to look like a natural hot spring, and it’s surrounded by bougainvillea that cascades down over the edge of the cliff. Food and champagne are arranged on a low table within reach of the hot tub.
“What is this?” I laugh, stepping inside the private little area.
He shuts the gate behind us and shrugs. “We’ve never had an official date, have we?”
A date? My God, who is this guy? Is body snatching an actual thing? That’s the only possible explanation for what’s happening here.
“I can’t believe you put all this together in just a couple of hours.”
He flashes me that sexy smile. “With enough money, there’s no limit to what you can accomplish in just a couple of hours.”
Fair. Money does make the world go round.
I glance over my shoulder at the hot tub. It looks so inviting, but for the millionth time this week, guilt swamps me. Bree will never get to enjoy something like this ever again, and it feels wrong that I should indulge in something so fun.
Roman must guess at the direction of my thoughts, because he comes up behind me, and places his large hands on my shoulders. “She would want you to be happy, Lux. She would want you to have this.”
I swallow, and nod. I know he’s right. Bree has only ever wanted me to be happy, but just living is still so fucking hard. Happiness on top of that feels greedy.
“I don’t have my bathing suit,” I point out. It looks like he’s thought out every last detail, except for that.
He spins me around, and his hands move to the hem of my shirt. “You don’t need a bathing suit,” he says with a devilish smile.
I glance around us in a panic. We’re outside where anyone could walk up and see us. Sure, it’s semi-private, but semi is the operative word there.
Again, he reads the direction of my thoughts. “This area is completely private. No one is going to bother us. I made sure of that.”
My muscles relax a little, but I’m still not entirely convinced. I take a step back and lift my chin at him. “Okay, then. You first.”
With a cheeky grin, he pulls his white cotton shirt over his head, revealing his tanned torso. His rock-hard abs twitch as he moves, and fuuuck, I’m already itching to reach out and touch him. Ugh, I’m so damn weak. It’s so pathetic. But by some miracle, I manage to keep my hands at my sides, scrunched into fists.
He has his gaze locked on my face as he unhooks the button of his jeans, and then lowers the zipper slowly. My God, this is torture. I watch intently, licking my lips, waiting breathlessly for his thick cock to spring free.
He’s wearing flip-flops, so he flings those off first, then shucks his pants and underwear all at once, kicking them aside. Now, he stands in front of me, completely naked, and damn…he looks like some kind of mythological demigod, sculpted out of marble.
It’s no wonder the women here worship him.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him naked, but never have I seen him like this, daylight kissing his bronzed skin, his cock jutting out, large and intimidating. It’s incredible that something so huge can fit inside me. But it does, and it feels ah-mazing.
My nipples tighten at the sight of him, and I swallow.
Yesss, daddy.
He lifts a brow. “Your turn.”
He’s clenching and unclenching his fists as his sides, and I can tell he wants to undress me himself. It’s all about control with Roman, but he’s holding himself back, waiting for me to comply.
With one last quick glance around, I’m satisfied no one can see us. To my right, there’s a steep drop, then nothing but ocean below, and on my left, the cliff wall is shielding us from view, and the other two sides are covered by dense vegetation, which is by design, I’m sure. It makes this space completely private, despite being carved into the side of a cliff.
Roman waits patiently, his heated gaze devours me as I tug my shirt over my head, and toss it aside. My nipples strain against the thin fabric of my pink bra, and I blush. Standing in front of him like this, in broad daylight, every dip and curve and bump completely visible to him is slightly mortifying. And I love my body, but there’s absolutely no hiding with lighting like this.
“Quickly, Lux,” he says through gritted teeth. He”s on the brink of losing it, and knowing that fills me with an odd sense of power.
Reaching behind my back, I unhook my bra, and pull it off slowly before flinging it aside. My breasts are large and heavy, and his eyes devour them hungrily.
Now, I’m standing in front of him, completely vulnerable. I consider diving off this cliff and into the churning ocean. For some reason, the idea of surviving a forty-foot fall seems less painful than surviving Roman’s intense scrutiny.
“Lux,” he growls, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He sways forward like he’s going to take a step toward me, before managing to pull himself back.
I kick off my shoes, no socks, and take my jeans off until I’m standing in nothing but my panties. Then I take those off, too, and I swear to God, for a second, it looks like he’s going to tackle me. You’d think this guy hadn’t had sex in weeks.
The pure animalistic energy pouring off him right now is hot as hell, though.
And I love teasing him, so instead of taking a step toward him, I approach the hot tub and sink into the swirling water. Steam surrounds me as I submerge myself. It’s always too hot at first until my body gets used to it, which usually only takes a couple of minutes.
“Damn tease,” he says, following me.
Moving to the opposite side of the hot tub, I watch as he steps forward, all confidence, his muscular legs eating up the short distance, his cock jerking as he moves.
As he sinks into the water, he immediately drifts toward me, pulling me into his arms. I laugh as he spins me in the water, his hard body pressed against mine.
White-hot heat rushes through my veins, pooling in that one, magical spot between my thighs. He wastes zero time, moving to kiss me, deep and passionate, his tongue slipping into my mouth, messaging the inside of my mouth.
I come up for air long enough to ask, “Why are you doing all this?”
As much as I’m loving it, Roman has never really seemed like a romantic guy. Granted, I’ve only known him for a few weeks, and for most of that time I was resisting him, but still. Within five minutes of meeting him, I immediately pegged him as an alphahole.
He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping my ass beneath the water. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says, his lips skimming up the column of my throat. “And I wanted to do something nice for you. Is that so bad?”
“No,” I answer, warmth spreading through my chest. “It’s not bad at all.”
Damn, despite my best judgment, am I actually falling for this guy?
After what happened last year, it seemed impossible that I would ever trust anyone again, especially considering the control Roman demands. But, I don’t know, maybe it’s that control that makes me feel safe.
Mr. Cunningham is going to have a field day with all this. The assault victim who enjoys being dominated. That’s some crazy fucked up shit, and I’m sure there’s some twisted psychological reason why it’s happening. But that’s a later Lux problem. Right now, today, I’m not analyzing it, because this feeling of contentment is helping me survive.
Roman drags his mouth up my throat, over my chin, then smiles against my lips. “Can I touch you?”
I laugh again. “You’re already touching me.”
“Can I touch your cunt?”
I can’t stop laughing. After everything we’ve done together, his question is so out of left field, it’s funny. “Why are you asking me that?”
“I’m trying to be a good boy.” The smile on his lips is so damn cute, and it’s so rare to see him like this, it melts me instantly. “Aren’t you supposed to ask these things now?” he asks. “Political correctness and all that.”
“Okay, first of all, touching my cunt isn’t political. And second, yes, you’re supposed to ask first.”
He raises one dark brow. “Well?”
“No,” I say, teasing him. “You cannot touch my lady bits. Request denied.”
One of his hands leaves my ass and finds the slit between my thighs. Swiftly, he pushes his fingers into my channel, and I gasp. “I said no, Roman.”
He leans forward and bites my bottom lip, nipping gently. “I said I’d ask. I didn’t say I’d listen.”
“Mmmm,” I moan, already lost to the sensation of his fingers filling me. “You said you were trying to be good.”
“Yeah, well, I lied.” His mouth moves to the underside of my chin, where he kisses me gently. “I’ve always known I could never resist you, Lux. None is ever going to stop me from touching you. Not even you.”
I don’t really believe that. A stun gun can be pretty persuasive. But even if I’m skeptical, his statement should terrify me. But it doesn’t, and I have no idea why.
He pushes me up against the hot tub wall, using the fingers in my channel to hold me in place, while he free hand cups my breast. I tilt my head back and moan when his thumb flicks my clit. A jolt of energy zips through me, and my body starts to tremble.
“I could run away,” I say with a moan.
My brain is hardly working at this point, so it’s amazing I can respond at all. But if I keep him talking, he won’t stop, and the sheer ecstasy of his touch is my sole focus right now.
Pressing his cheek to mine, he whispers in my ear, “You can’t run from me, Lux. I would hunt you to the ends of the earth, and I wouldn’t ever stop. I would find you, no matter the cost.”
Okay, now, that strikes fear into me, and it’s not so much his words, but the weight behind them. The dark intent in his voice. We were joking around a second ago, but I have absolutely no doubt he means what he’s saying now.
I freeze, going completely still, which causes him to pull back and look at me. His fingers are still stroking my core, pulling out only long enough to toy with my clit, before plunging back inside my channel.
He pulls back to look at me, his gaze colliding with mine. He holds me there like that, his eyes holding me, his fingers strumming me like an instrument, an instrument that’s under his complete control. “Tell me you understand, Little Rabbit.”
I have so much to say. First and foremost, I intend to ditch this town the second I find out who killed Bree. But I know better than to confess any of that to him, so instead, I reach for logic.
“You’ll tire of me eventually,” I answer, keeping the conversation light. “Next year, there will be another Preference Ceremony, and you’ll pick a new girl, and I’ll be a distant thought.”
One side of his mouth curls up into a half-smile like that statement amuses him. “For your sake, I pray that’s true…”