Chapter 20 – Roman
ROMAN
Ishift Braelyn in my hands, cool water gently falling on us from the rain showerhead above.
The shower is outdoors but protected by a wall.
Still, we can hear the ocean waves and smell the salt.
The heat and humidity are with it, but it’s pretty cool out here.
Like a secret garden with rocks and plants.
She wiggles in my hands and reluctantly, I set her down.
Wordlessly, she goes for the shampoo pump that’s attached to the wall and I put my back to her, closing my eyes and tilting my face up to the stream. It’s dark out here and my stomach grumbles, reminding me we missed dinner with all that’s happened this evening.
I haven’t even been inside of her yet, and that was already the best sex of my life.
It was simply incredible, and it was with her.
My Braelyn. Now it’s like I don’t know how to talk to her or what to say.
I’m terrified I went too fast. Too rough.
That even though she’s out here with me and still naked, our moment is over and will never be found again.
But worse is the thought that she’ll pull away from me because of it.
I was already afraid the marriage piece would cause that and so far it hasn’t. But this upped the ante, and she’s not ready for all that I come with.
Hands in my hair startle me, and I start to turn, only to have her hold me still. “If you turn, I’ll get shampoo on your face. Hold still. And maybe squat a little. You’re annoyingly tall.”
I smile and step out of the stream to let Braelyn wash my hair. The scent of flowers and eucalyptus surrounds me while her fingers massage my scalp. It’s heaven. My eyes close and a rustling breath empties from my lungs.
Once she’s satisfied with her handiwork, she pushes me back under the stream and I rinse the suds from my hair while she takes my hand in hers.
“It looks good despite our shenanigans. Does it hurt?”
“No,” I tell her, opening my eyes and watching as she examines me.
“Good.”
We continue to wash up, moving around each other and not touching all that much. I had other plans for this shower, but it’s obvious they don’t line up with hers.
“You pushed me away,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, and between the slapping sound of water on stone and the ocean beyond the wall, I have to strain to hear her.
“That night?”
“Yes.”
“You were drunk.”
She looks up at me with those big brown eyes I’m always lost in. “Is that the only reason? Because the things you said yesterday…” She trails off, and I stare at her, hardly able to form the words.
“I was battling a lot of guilt. You had been Nash’s, and I felt wrong wanting to kiss you the way I did. Like I was betraying him after it was my fault he was gone. Yes, you were drunk. And that was an easy excuse because the rest was far more complicated.”
She absorbs that. “I don’t know…” She audibly swallows. “I don’t know what we’re doing, and it scares me. We’re technically married, and now we’re fooling around, and it feels like everything is out of order and we’re doing it all wrong.”
I comb some wet strands back from her face. “What do you want this to be?”
“I broke up with Adam not even two weeks ago.”
I get that. I truly do. She loved him and was going to marry him. This trip was for her to reset and escape the heartache, and here I am, making a move when I told myself I wasn’t going to do that this soon. That I was going to be patient and wait for her to be ready.
“I didn’t kiss you that night because I knew that when I finally did, I wasn’t going to be a regret. I was going to be your forever. We’ll do this your way, not mine.”
Her eyes search mine, her brow pinched ever so subtly. “You’ve always been my forever. That’s what we are to each other.”
She either doesn’t get it or is intentionally being obtuse. Either way, I have my answer. So I do the only thing I can do. I fucking nod. And it kills me because it feels like the hope I had been starting to cling to just died.
Being in unrequited love with Braelyn for as long as I have has become part of my personality.
A character trait or flaw in this case. It’s just who I am at this point.
Like how I don’t like bananas because I can’t stand how they smell or that my eyes change colors depending on the lighting or what I’m wearing or that I’m better at listening than speaking, and sometimes it makes me seem like more of a dick, which I’m fine with.
And because of that, I was able to manage it.
It was kept in a nice, tidy place. The place where you hide the quirks you’d rather others not know about or see.
But I got stupid and let it out of that place, and now it’s grown and festered and taken over, and I wish I could put it back and continue to live with it simply as background noise instead of the only fucking thing I hear.
Maybe it’s better I’m moving away. Soon, in fact. Less than two months and I’m gone.
Her hand rests over my heart, and I wish we weren’t doing this naked. I already feel too exposed.
“I don’t want to have sex with you out here.”
I blink and tilt my head because she just said she doesn’t want to have sex with me, but finished it with… “Out here?”
“You’d have to hold me the entire time, and that wall is rough with all those stones in it. It’d hurt. Plus it’s not good for the cut on your hand.”
I run my hands up my face and through my hair to clear the water away. “I don’t think I’m following—”
“Roman, it’s not that complicated. This outdoor shower, while very cool, is probably one of the worst places to have sex unless we do it completely standing up, but like, meh. You’re a lot taller than I am, and the mechanics of that are just all wrong.”
I laugh. Like a full-on belly laugh, which isn’t something I do often, if ever. “You’re right. It would be a lot of fumbling and awkward angles.”
“Exactly. I’m thinking the bed is better.”
Right or wrong, stupid or not, I scoop my best friend, my wife, back up into my arms and walk our wet bodies inside.
She laughs at my reaction, but I cut her off with a kiss because she’s taking a chance, and this chance will lead to more.
I will make damn sure of it. She has to get there.
That’s what all that was. She’s not yet, and that’s fine.
I can manage that. But she’s going to try, and that’s more than I can ask for.
The air conditioner hits us, and we shiver, goose bumps breaking out across both of us. I snatch a fresh towel from the towel warmer, and Brae helps me by wrapping it around us. She rubs my hair with it and blots hers, and we both look a little wild, but who cares?
I slip and slide, but then we’re at the bed, and I bring her down sideways across it, falling on top of her and kissing her.
I take her wrists in my hand and pin them above her head, forcing her body to stretch out and her tits to angle up into me.
A bolt of desire sizzles straight through me and tightens my chest with an unfamiliar excitement.
I’ve never had sex with anyone I cared about emotionally. Yes, I know that’s as fucked up as it sounds—but I’m about to be inside of Braelyn.
In fact, I can hardly catch my breath with it.
“I don’t have condoms in here. I have two in my wallet.”
“I was tested after Adam.”
I pull back. “You were?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Um, yeah, I freaking was. Wren did it at the hospital.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Me too, but it was necessary and everything came out negative.”
I stare down at her, our bodies flush, and my heart is hammering. “I’ve been tested too. And I’ve never not used a condom before.”
Her fingers trickle along my jaw, up to my temple. “I get to be your first, then.”
And I plan to be your last.
“What about birth control?” Though the thought of knocking up Braelyn, of having my baby inside of her, makes me harder than steel. That’s a new fucking kink for me and I already have a long list.
“I have an IUD.”
My lips slam back down on hers, and I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. My lips trail along her jaw and down the slope of her neck, where my teeth graze her thrumming carotid. She whimpers and squirms, and I pinch her nipple with my other hand in warning.
“You’re going to have to hold still.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Try for me.” The multitude of ways I mean that are likely clear in my tone.
She stops squirming, and the pleasure that ripples through me is intense.
I continue down her body, kissing and sucking, even biting because I want to see her skin redden from me.
I want her marked. I want her to feel that too.
Sucking a nipple into my mouth, I release her hands and my cock throbs when I see she’s left them there.
I rub it against her thigh so she feels it.
So she knows how happy and hard she’s made me.
Then I thrust up her tits and scrape my teeth along the tight peaks.
“Ah,” she cries, twitching left and right. I let it go and continue to lick and suck at her tits while my hand slides between her thighs, one finger slipping inside of her.
“So wet for me.”
“Roman, please,” she whines. “I want you inside of me.”
I want to be inside of her too. That’s all there is to this.
Everything else fades, and I climb back up her, my face above hers, our eyes locked.
I lift her thigh and place it on my hip and settle between her legs.
Her cunt is so warm, and I drag the head of my cock up and down her slit, watching her face as I do. As I touch her like this.
Her cheeks flush red, and her hands lose the battle with staying above her head and come to my shoulders.
I line up with her entrance and push inside of her.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
A wave of euphoria intoxicates me, creating a haze around everything.
She’s so goddamn tight stars are already dancing behind my eyes.