25. Chapter 25 #2
I mean, I want to do a lot more than just kiss him, but I have to find a starting point, an attainable goal.
Kissing seems like a decent one. If I can get him to be vulnerable enough with me to do that, I have to be making progress, right?
There’s a lot of things I have to prove to him before we can get to that point, and it’s going to be really fucking hard.
I’m more than willing to do whatever I need to make him understand how I feel, because one thing is very, very clear to me at this point.
Lance Owens was always meant to be mine.
I just have to figure out how to make him see that.
I can tell you exactly how not to make him see that he wants me. By getting seasick and spending half of the boat ride throwing your guts up. Fun times.
I really fucking hate boats.
Once my feet are finally on dry land, I’m at a point where I would gladly get on my knees and start kissing the ground.
I’m mortified by how much of a pathetic mess I was.
I absolutely loathe getting sick. Now that my body is back where it belongs, I’m feeling a lot more like myself.
The banter and sarcastic remarks with Lance have returned to normal, although he still seems to be trying to baby me.
I’m not complaining, especially since he isn’t currently biting my head off every time I try to talk to him.
“Water?” Lance asks with a hint of empathy as he opens the mini fridge in the hotel lobby. He turns back to glance at me, our eyes meeting before I nod in acceptance. Even if I didn’t want it, I’d probably take it. He’s trying to take care of me, and even though it feels strange… I like it. A lot.
I take a few tentative sips as Lance sits down on one of the fancy sofas.
His hands trail across the velvet surface in admiration, leaving a trail along every fiber he touches the same way he does to my body.
He gives me an impressed look as he bounces up and down on the cushion. Yep. It’s official. Whipped.
“Where are the sofas from?” I ask the lady at the desk as I dig my wallet from my pocket.
“You like them?” She asks excitedly as she glances over at Lance. “I picked them out. My boss was skeptical, but I thought they were perf—”
“Where are they from?” I interrupt, shoving the reservation paperwork in her hand.
“Uh— Ohhh,” she stammers in shock as she looks down at the papers, her eyes going wide with surprise. “Oh. Mr. Davenport. I apologize. I can have the furniture catalogue brought to your suite, if you’d like.“ She spins on her feet, fumbling around for the key cards to our rooms.
I’m obviously not Mr. Davenport, but the name garners respect, and since that plays in my favor right now, I don’t correct her. “I would appreciate that. Thank you.” I reply with an air of boredom as I reach for the… key?
“Why is there only one key?” I ask as I cut my eyes up to her.
“There’s only one room, errr… suite reserved. Unfortunately, we don’t have any other available rooms at this time. Your assistant said that it would be fine. I really am very sorry, sir. I wish there was something I could do.”
Great. Lance is going to fucking love this. I spin around, not bothering to reply to her as I head toward the elevator. Lance hops up from the couch, following behind me.
“What floor?” He asks as he waits to press the button.
“The top floor,” I reply blandly.
He glances over at me nervously before pressing the button, but we both remain silent. When the elevator comes to a stop, I swipe the key against the sensor, causing the door behind Lance to open. He instantly swivels around, his mouth falling agape.
“Well… that’s fancy.”
I chuckle as I step off the elevator, him close on my heels. I head down the hall, turning into the kitchen as soon as the space opens up into the main living area.
“Wait… where’s my suite?”
“We’re sharing,” I reply as I open the fridge to put my water inside.
He laughs. Then scoffs. Then stares at me. “You’re joking?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I had nothing to do with this.”
“That meddling mother—” He mumbles under his breath as he wanders off in the open space to look at everything.
“There should be two bedrooms, at least.” I hope.
I’ve stayed here before, but I was a few floors down.
There are suites off both sides of the elevator, and while they’re nice, they aren’t penthouses or anything.
The furniture and finishing are luxurious enough that esteemed guests won’t feel like they’re lacking too much, but the space is pretty tight.
They aren’t really meant for spending a lot of time in, after all.
Once we get a bunch of security equipment in here, it’s probably going to end up feeling smaller than my apartment since they have a bunch of useless gaudy decorations all over the place.
Lance starts to open all the doors, aimlessly wandering around while I look at the room service menu. With absolutely nothing left in my system thanks to that stupid boat, I’m starving.
“I call this room!” He declares proudly as he walks back into the living room.
“If it’s the master, then no, you don’t.” I reply without looking up at him.
He stops to glare at me, propping a hand on his hip. “And why the fuck not?”
I glance up at him over the edge of the menu in my hand. “Because Maven will be coming here in a few days, and that’s where he and Ollivander will have to stay.”
“You’re joking,” he says incredulously. “The other two rooms have an adjoining bathroom.”
I shrug a shoulder as I turn my attention back to the menu. “Could be worse.”
“No,” he declares as he steps closer to the counter, demanding my attention. “It actually can’t. It cannot get any worse than that, Roman.”
I tilt my head curiously as I look back up at him. “Scared of a little quality time?”
He narrows his eyes in annoyance before a snarky smirk takes over his face. “If I wanted quality time with you, all I would’ve had to do was pick up my phone. It’s not like you would’ve turned me down, would you?”
If he thinks that hurts my ego, he’s wrong. I’ve already come to terms with my feelings for him, with all the shit I’m willing to do for him.
News flash: There’s not many things I wouldn’t do.
I leave the room service menu behind as I step around the counter.
Lance backs himself against it as I move toward him, watching every step I take with caution.
I move close enough that he’s pinned himself against the stone island, and I can feel heat pouring off of him in waves.
It’s been too long since I’ve been this close to him, and every fiber of my being sparks to life.
I reach up grabbing his face to force his eyes to remain on me.
The smell of him, the feel of him, just… him.
I tilt his head to the side, dragging my nose up his neck as I take a deep breath.
I stop with my mouth next to his ear, my hot breath on his flesh causing a shiver to run down his spine.
Knowing that he wants nothing to do with me and I still have this effect on him, it’s intoxicating.
If I never had anything else, only this connection with him, I’d die one happy motherfucker.
“If you think that hurts my feelings… you’re mistaken.
” I whisper as I crowd closer to him, itching to put my hands on his body.
“Gods demand worship. Even going as far as punishing those that refuse to comply…
“ I continue as I trail my lips along his neck. “Me? I’d get on my knees for you willingly. My devotion needs no guidance. All you have to do is give me permission to worship you.”
He yanks his chin from my hold, shoving against my chest. He isn’t actually strong enough to move me, but I step back to give him the space he wants anyway. Lance may enjoy me taking control in the bedroom, but he wants all the control when his clothes are on.
He ducks underneath my arm, forcing his way out from between me and the counter.
I can’t do anything but chuckle as he runs off to one of the bedrooms and slams the door behind him.
I find it humorous, because they haven’t brought up our luggage yet, so I know that he has nothing better to do than lay in there on the bed until he gets antsy enough to come slinking back out here.
I call for room service, flip on the television, and get comfortable.
Sure, I’m being a little cocky, but I’ve made up my mind.
He can’t escape me now.
So, let the waiting game begin.