Chapter 26
Roman
Between my schedule and everything going on with Sloane, Eloise and I haven’t been able to connect for time together until now. So when she texted, asking if I wanted to go out, I immediately asked Riley and June to babysit Mazie and made a reservation at Tabby Cat.
Eloise and I had seen each other over the last few days and exchanged plenty of text messages, but the thought of finally being alone with her makes my skin buzz with anticipation. I missed her.
I fucking missed her.
When she opens the door of her apartment, I’m not prepared.
She’s wearing her hair piled on the top of her head with loose strands by her temples and the smile I’ve come to think of as my own.
The one that crinkles her eyes but is a bit shyer, her teeth digging into her bottom lip like she’s afraid to unleash her full wattage. I love it.
I fucking love her.
Her chunky sweater with huge sleeves reminds me of a blanket, and there’s nothing I want more than to wrap myself up in it with her. Instead, I use it to pull her to me. “Hey, sunshine.”
“Hi, Rome,” she says, voice all smoke and gravel and choking me.
Or maybe that’s my heart in my throat.
I’m not sure. I can’t tell.
But I am sure that the day I first saw her, laughing in Wawa at Mazie, I was attracted to her. Then when I spotted her out back of her bakery, covered in flour and laughing at herself, I fell in love. I loved her then without knowing.
I love her even more now.
It overwhelms me. Like I can’t breathe without her. She’s everywhere. The air in my lungs, the never-ending loop in my head, the steady beat in my heart.
I love her smile and energy, her compassion and humor.
I love the way she makes me feel and how she takes care of Mazie.
I love the way she tells me everything that crosses her mind and texts like she’s having a conversation in person.
I love her insecurities and all of her confidence.
I love every piece of her. Every bit of sunshine and every shadow.
And I can’t do anything besides crowd her against the door. My mouth finds hers in a kiss that’s equal parts hunger and reverence. It’s been a week since I’ve tasted her, though it may as well have been a year.
She tangles her fingers in my hair, and I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. We’re a jumble of limbs and need. It’s frantic and desperate, a clash of desire that neither of us can contain.
“Missed you,” she breathes against my lips, and I growl in agreement, roaming my hands over her body, reacquainting myself with every dip and curve.
“Need you,” I admit, and it’s more than physical. It’s a craving that goes deeper than skin, an ache only she can soothe. I carry her past the kitchen, but my eye catches on a bottle, and I can’t help the amused sound that escapes the back of my throat.
Eloise lifts her head, eyes dazed, lips swollen. “Hm?”
“The olive oil,” I say with a jut of my chin toward it. She follows my line of sight and inhales sharply, a wild grin taking over her face.
The smile when she’s really excited about something. “You wanna?”
I set her on the counter to pull her sweater over her head and lean down to draw my tongue over the soft flesh barely contained by her bra. “Wanna what?”
“Try olive oil?”
I step back and tug my own shirt over my head, still not comprehending the suggestion until she unscrews the cap and pours a drop on her index and middle fingers before rubbing her thumb over it and smearing it over her collarbone.
She drags her fingers down the dark valley between her tits, and I swallow thickly, imagining oiling her up all over.
I nod, take the bottle from her hand, and throw my woman over my shoulder.
She shrieks in laughter, smacking my ass a few times.
As soon as I toss her on the bed, I kick off my boots and strip off my jeans and underwear.
“Naked,” I tell Eloise. “Get naked now unless you want your clothes ripped in half.”
She doesn’t hesitate, yanking off her black leggings and flinging her thong at me.
Before she can remove her bra, I pounce on her, unclasping it myself.
I should be moving slower, taking my time, worshipping her properly, but I’m too keyed up from being away from her for so long.
I need to inhale her. Drink her in. Swallow her down.
Eloise is my new addiction, and that is the one thought that has me taking a pause.
A breath.
So I don’t completely lose myself and ruin my fresh start before it’s barely started.
Kneeling between her open legs, I reach for the bottle of olive oil and spill some into my palm, rubbing my hands together before spreading it over her thighs and stomach. Eloise is already soft and pliant, but with the way she trembles under my touch, I can tell she wants more.
I dribble a line across her chest from nipple to nipple and rub it in, flicking my thumbs over the stiff pink points, admiring the sheen on her skin, the visible tracks of my fingers across her breasts and belly.
When I drag my hand between her legs, she shudders, and I watch as she flushes pink all over as I press my fingers into her already wet pussy, stretching it, working her sensitive flesh until she’s coming on my hand.
She mewls and closes her eyes, shifting under me, and I place my right hand around her throat in a hold that isn’t at all tight, but does always seem to settle her.
She likes my palm around her, my fingertips against her beating pulse.
She knows I’d never hurt her, and when our eyes meet, she curls her fingers around my forearm, keeping me in place.
Then she hits me right in the solar plexus when she says, “You make me feel safe. Like nothing can touch me. Nothing can hurt me.”
I hope so. Because I protect what’s mine, and as long as she’ll have me, I will always keep her safe.
Bending, I lick into her mouth as if I could draw her words into my mouth, and I roll us so we’re on our sides, her back to my front and wrap my left arm around her neck to keep her close, smoothing my right hand down the length of her.
I pull her top leg up and back over my thigh, meeting her lips when she turns her face to mine for a kiss, and I toy with her clit for a few moments until she’s rolling her hips too much.
Too much for me to handle without being inside her.
With so much oil between us, it takes almost no effort to slowly thrust inside her, and she cries out. I stop, waiting until I know she’s all right, until she reaches for me, wanting another kiss, until she begins to rock back and forth.
Then I let her go, let her use me how she needs, taking my cock inside her with every shift forward and back.
I palm her hips, her ass, her breasts, kiss her shoulder and lick along the shell of her ear.
I strum her clit, bringing her to the brink again, her inner walls pulsing around my shaft, taking me farther inside her.
Seated to the hilt, I’m sure she’ll be sore tomorrow, but when I check in with her, she wants me to keep going, so I do.
I roll her to her back and hold myself above her, sliding inside her easily, taking over when she’s too wild with pleasure.
I’m not sure how long we’re at it, wrapped up in each other, slick with sweat and oil, but time has ceased to exist. There’s only Eloise, her body moving in perfect harmony with mine, her sighs of pleasure echoing my own.
The olive oil has turned our sex into something almost primal.
The evidence is everywhere—on our skin, in our hair, smeared across the sheets.
It’s a mess, but the best kind, and with Eloise beneath me, her eyes locked on mine, sweat dotting her brow and upper lip, she’s never looked more untamed or beautiful.
I can feel her tightening around me, her body coiling like a spring as she nears her peak.
The same one I’m climbing. I grit my teeth, willing myself to hold on a little longer.
“Roman,” she gasps, her voice a plea. “I need… I need…”
I cut her off with a kiss, swallowing her words as I thrust into her one last time. Her fingers dig into my back, her nails scoring my skin, and I welcome the sweet sting of pain. It’s a reminder that this is real, that this incredible woman is mine and I am hers.
Then with a final whimper, my girl shatters around me. Her body convulses, clamping down on my cock as her orgasm sweeps through her. It’s too much, and with a hoarse shout of my own, I follow her into the abyss.
For a moment, there’s nothing but the pounding of our hearts and the tattered sound of our breathing. We’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat and oil, our bodies slick and spent. But it’s a good feeling, satisfying, and I pull her into my arms as I roll off her.
We lie in silence, our bodies entwined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. I feel the steady thump of Eloise’s heart against my chest, and I know we’re right where we’re supposed to be. I tell her the one thing I know to be true in life. “You make me happy.”
She smiles against my shoulder a moment before she drops a kiss there. “I think we missed our dinner reservation.”
“I’ll order us delivery.”
“Sushi?”
“Whatever you want.”
She eventually sits up, grinning. “You really know how to woo a girl. Fuck her until she walks crooked then order her whatever she wants. I think I’ll keep you.”
My eyelids are heavy, but I force them to stay open as I pinch her chin between my fingers. “I’m keeping you too.”
She twists her face and kisses my palm before slipping off the mattress. “We’ll have to do laundry.”
“Whatever you say.”
“And take a shower. Get all this greasy stuff off us.”
“If you insist.”
She nods, mischief glittering in her green eyes. “I insist.”
The problem is, once we’re both in the shower, it’s not at all like we expected, and I can barely fit in behind her.
Under the spray of the water, Eloise pouts. “Movies make two-person showers seem a lot sexier.”
I nod, attempting not to elbow her as I soap up.
“Doesn’t help that you’re the size of Godzilla,” she teases as I carefully step around her to rinse off.
“You never had a problem with it until now.”
“That’s because we never showered together until now. We’re going to have to win the lottery to buy a shower big enough to fit the both of us.”
I plant a kiss on her temple. “Finish up. I’ll order dinner. What’d you want?”
“Get it from Mio’s parents. They have the best seaweed salad. I like pretty much any roll from them, except for the specials. They’re too big. I can’t fit them in my mouth.”
I can’t help it. I laugh, and she points at my face. “Adding it to my tally!”
“Tally?”
“The I made Roman Edgar Stone laugh tally.”
I roll my eyes at her ridiculous guessing game of my middle name and step out of the shower. “My middle name is Yousef.”
“Yousef?” she repeats, clearly surprised.
“My mother’s father was from Iran. She gave all us boys the same middle name in honor of him.”
Eloise presses her hand to her throat. “That’s really sweet. I had no idea—”
“Hurry up,” I tell her. “I’m hungry, and we can talk about that more while I’m eating.”
She salutes me and pulls the shower curtain closed, starting in on an off-key version of the Stones’ “Beast of Burden,” and I laugh silently to myself. Eloise Thorne is my absolute favorite.
After dressing in my jeans and T-shirt, I head out to the living room to place our food order.
Grabbing a seat at her kitchen table, I notice the pile of mail scattered on her kitchen counter.
I wouldn’t normally pay it any mind, but a specific envelope catches my attention.
It’s from Champlain Valley Rehabilitation Facility for Women. Amy’s prison.
My heart rate spikes, and everything slows as I move to get a better look. I glance down the hall to where Eloise is still in the bathroom, being adorably bad at singing, and yet somehow my world is crumbling out here.
Because I know whatever is in that envelope will wreck this.
I pick it up, seeing Eloise’s full name and address scrawled in handwriting I know all too well. Turning it over in my hands, I find the envelope unopened, and before I can think better of it, I tear it open to pull out the thin sheet of paper.
The words blur together at first, my mind struggling to process what I’m reading. But then, it all comes into focus. Amy’s writing to thank Eloise for reaching out then goes on to say how she’s changed, how she deserves a second chance, and how all she wants is to see Mazie.
I know he’s stubborn, but I think he’s being cruel now just to punish me.
I’m not sure how good of friends you are, but you should know he’s not very loyal.
Look at what he’s doing to me. I appreciate you reaching out, and I hope you can help, but I won’t hold my breath.
Because look where he is, and look where I am.
I love my daughter, and he doesn’t care.
My vision goes red, and I have trouble reading the last few sentences.
I slam the letter down on the counter and lean onto my elbows, gripping my hair by the roots, pissed that Amy would attack me. Would dare to say I don’t care, when all I do is care.
But more than that…Eloise.
She knew about this.
She contacted Amy and didn’t tell me.
The woman I loved went behind my back when I trusted her. I told her everything, more than I’ve ever told anyone else. And she twisted it for her own means.
Why? I can’t begin to fucking imagine, but the pain in my chest isn’t the good kind anymore.
It’s betrayal.
I shove the letter back into the envelope, my hands shaking with anger as I hear the shower shut off.
She was in there for fucking ever, and now… Now I don’t even want to see her.
Needing to get out of here, to clear my head, I storm out her door, not bothering to tell Eloise where I’m going or what happened. If she can’t be bothered to inform me she’s communicating with my ex and the mother of my child, I certainly don’t owe her any goddamn explanations.
Because one thing is for sure—I’m not ready to let Amy back into Mazie’s life.
No matter how much she begs and pleads, she obviously hasn’t changed.
Still hanging the blame for her choices on anyone else besides herself.
And if Eloise thinks otherwise, if she believes she can hide something like this from me…
Moving to West Chester was supposed to be my new start.
Eloise was my breath of fresh air.
Except it’s all poisoned. I don’t want to breathe it in anymore. I can’t let it near Mazie. I can’t let it ruin what I’m trying to rebuild.
And if Eloise is going to force my hand, I’ll do what I have to. Even if it means breaking my own heart.