Chapter 23 – Braelyn
brAELYN
The hammock sways gently, my eyes half-closed as I lazily read the book Wren suggested.
Roman and I had breakfast, but then he went to his restaurant, and I couldn’t muster the energy to do much.
After sitting in the pool for an hour, followed by the beach under an umbrella for a bit, I found myself back here. It’s been the best lazy day ever.
The gym procured Roman a punching bag to work out with. I could see the excitement in his eyes. Sometimes it’s good to be a Fritz.
I shooed him away since I know he was anxious to go train or whatever. That’s where he’s been for the last couple of hours until maybe fifteen minutes ago, when I heard him return and the water running in the shower.
“I see you’ve moved,” he quips, standing on the edge of the doorway.
“Ha. You’re very funny. I did get up twice, believe it or not. Did you have fun?”
He comes over and climbs on the hammock with me since it’s made for two, making it swing wildly back and forth before he settles in and manages to still us. “I did. It was great actually and my hand didn’t bother me. You should have come.”
“You and your humor today. What fun things did they get for you?”
“A speed bag and a heavy bag, so I worked out with both.” He kisses my hairline and groans. “You smell good. How do you always smell this good?”
“Good genetics. You should go pro with your boxing. Make it less illegal,” I tell him with a yawn as he rolls me over so my face is tucked against him.
“Why are you so sleepy?” More kisses, these against my neck, and I arch to give him better access.
I crack an eye at him. “Vacation mode. Answer me.”
He cuddles me, wrapping his arms around me and moving us so I’m half on top of him, half beside him. We haven’t touched, at least not like this since last night when we fell asleep. He’s given me space to work my mental craziness out and I’ve appreciated that.
“Never wanted to. Cooking is my passion professionally and boxing is a sport I love doing, but more than that, it allows me to release all the built-up tension I can never seem to let go of. I like the rush of it. The dirt and grime. Plus, I’m in my thirties, which makes me officially too old.”
“You could get caught. Or hurt.”
“I could,” he agrees.
“Then what?”
“What are you worried about?” he counters, his finger trickling along my jaw and cheek.
“I just said it. You getting caught. You getting in trouble. You getting hurt. You losing everything you’ve worked so hard to build and possibly even going to prison.”
“Baby, the Irish mob in Boston runs this. Unless I’m physically apprehended, there is no evidence of me in those rings. And I don’t mind getting hit. I like the sting and adrenaline.”
I don’t like any of it, even if the fights are exciting and I agree with him on the adrenaline of it.
He’s not only a Fritz but also a famous chef.
His face is everywhere all the time. Who is Roman Fritz dating now?
It’s all anyone cares about, and I’ve never explored or read those headlines.
They were bullshit and I always hated reading them.
But he’s gorgeous and insanely wealthy and mysterious because of his bad boy vibe and his elusive and asshole chef presence.
The press loves him. They want him. And I worry that in their hot pursuit of him, he’ll get busted. Then again, he hasn’t yet and he’s been doing this for years, so maybe I need to let it go.
“If you say so, I believe you,” I tell him.
“I do. You read, I’ll catch up on emails and maybe nap.”
“Works for me.”
The hammock sways gently as I roll slightly so I can tap my e-reader and resume where I left off. I haven’t read a book in way too long, but Katy, along with Wren, sent me a list of books I had to get and I downloaded a few of them.
Roman simply holds me, his focus on his phone above my head, and I read, tucked against his chest. For a few minutes, that’s how this goes. Except he’s not reading emails on his phone. He’s just good at playing that part. He was watching me instead.
“What are you reading that’s making you blush?”
“I’m not blushing,” I protest adamantly. Too adamantly. And the blush on my cheeks isn’t helping my cause. “It’s just hot out here. And you’re too close.”
“Right.” He sets his phone down on the side table. “Let me see then.”
“It’s nothing.” I try to angle the screen away so I can turn it off or change the book, but he’s faster, his ninja boxing skills and dexterity snatching my e-reader in a half-second. Damn him! Again! I didn’t want him to see this. Of course this has to be the scene I was reading. Ugh.
He holds my e-reader and starts to read.
“Are you wet?”
Her eyes blaze into mine. “Yes.”
Fuck! I can’t stop my groan, my hand stuck to my lower abdomen, hovering so near the hem of my briefs that my fingers twitch with the need to take myself in hand.
“Good girl. Slip two fingers inside and pump them in and out slowly. I want the butt of your palm to rub your clit as you do. Put your other hand on your breasts and play with your hard nipples under your shirt.” I pause, licking my lips.
“If you’re quiet, sweetheart, I won’t put my tongue where you need me to.
” She lets out a breathy moan, her eyes falling back in her head as she finger fucks herself to my command.
She’s moving on the bed, grinding against her hand, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier in my entire life.
“Does that feel good? Your fingers in your warm, tight pussy, stroking you just the way you like it?”
He stops reading and pulls the e-reader away, his eyebrow cocked, and I want the ground to open up and swallow me. “A little light reading?”
“It’s a good story,” I defend.
“I’ll say. Damn, kid.” He looks at me, his eyes wide, and now his cheeks are flushed.
I shrug like it’s nothing. “Katy and Wren sent me suggestions for fun beach reads. This is the first one I downloaded. I just happened to be at that scene.”
“Is it working? Is it making you wet along with her?”
“Knock it off,” I bark, almost annoyed but not really, because I’m just being defensive.
He grins. “Do you like that? Do you envision yourself in a place where you give yourself over to the other person and allow them to take total control? Where you allow them to tell you exactly what to do and you do it because there’s nothing you want more?”
“Cut it out.” I snatch the e-reader back from him and fight a smile. “Some of us enjoy literature that isn’t considered a classic or involves cooking techniques.”
“No joke. Clearly, I’ve been reading the wrong stuff.”
“Clearly,” I mock. “I need to start reading more. I’ve been all work and no play.”
“The more play part I agree with. Read me some more,” he challenges, leaning back but keeping me close, and I have to say, our proximity isn’t helping. Because he’s hard. I mean, there is no denying that. We’re on a freaking hammock together, side by side, but I can see he’s hard.
“I can’t read more.”
“You’re a nurse. Are you telling me you haven’t had sex conversations with your patients?”
“Um, I don’t exactly get explicit like this.”
“Are you nervous?”
“A little,” I admit. “It’s not every day I read spicy sex aloud.”
“Read it to me.” And his voice changes when he says that. It’s his dominant voice. The one that commands that dark part of me that doesn’t know how to—or simply doesn’t want to—say no. He’s not making a move. He simply wants me to read him more smut, which is kind of hot. Fuck it.
I bring the e-reader back up so I can see it and start reading.
“What do you want? My cock or my mouth?” She lets out that breathy hum again, and I swear, that’s my favorite sound ever.
“I’m dying to taste you. I’ll need to give you both.
I’m going to fuck you slowly. So slowly you’ll claw at my back, wild with desperation.
And just when I start to get you so worked up and needy, my cock will slip out and I’ll bury my face into you, licking you, devouring your sweet pussy in a way no one ever has before.
” Her eyes pinch shut as she bites her lip, trying to hide her sounds from me.
But I can’t have that. “That’s right, sweetheart.
Let me hear it. Let me hear how good I make you feel.
” She moans loudly, her face turning away from me, pressing into her pillow.
Even though I’m dying to watch her face, I’ll let her have that if she feels she needs it.
If it gets her to come for me. “And just when you get close…” I trail off and she groans, her back arching and her tits peeking high into the air under her too-thin shirt. “I’m close,” she cries.”
“You stop before she comes?” Roman gripes incredulously. “That’s cruel.”
“To her or to you?” I quip.
“Did it turn you on?”
“Yes,” I admit. It turned him on too. His eyes are black, ringed in green.
He shifts, and his hand glides over my body, along my tits and down to my pussy. He cups me over my shorts. “I think this scene lacks a certain something.”
“What’s that?” I manage, already feeling winded.
“He’s watching her touch herself. That isn’t nearly as good as being able to touch her.
” He rubs his hand up and down. “I mean, you’re so warm like this.
And the way you smell.” His face ducks into my neck and he takes a deep inhale as he starts to suck on my neck.
“This woman doesn’t know what it feels like when he touches her here.
” He cups me harder. “Or kisses her like this.” His lips drag along my jaw, and I’m already gone to him.
“But worse, the poor bastard doesn’t know if his touch will make her breath hitch the way yours just did. ”
He’s right. My breath did hitch and his eyes flashed with excitement.