Chapter 5 Dillan
DILLAN
Pretty sure my neighbors have seen me naked through my window at least five times this month.
Oopsie.
—Dillan’s Secret Thoughts
The hot water feels heavenly as it beats against my body, but nowhere near as heavenly as the feel of Rome’s mouth on my core as my body shakes again.
With my leg draped over his shoulder and my hands desperately grasping for purchase they can’t find against the slippery shower wall, Rome’s fingers bite into my hips, holding me still as I shatter . . . again.
Sweet Jesus. I totally get why this man is a titan.
Long minutes later, once the water has run cold and my legs seem strong enough to hold me up on their own, we finally make our way out of the shower.
Rome’s strong arms wrap a towel around my shoulders and gently begin to dry my hair, splintering another piece of the wall I’ve spent years building to protect myself.
Rubbing his hands up and down my arms, he drops a kiss on the top of my head, and my mouth waters, watching his muscles move and flex, water dripping from his body as he ties a fluffy white towel around his lean hips.
“My eyes are up here, Ryan . . .” His index and middle fingers point from me to those navy-blue eyes as his lips curve into the cockiest, sexiest smile.
“Listen, I can’t help it if you’re too pretty to look away from, Beneventi,” I tease as I slip my arms into my short pink terrycloth bathrobe.
“Pretty?” His voice drops, bouncing off the walls of my small master bath. “Pretty isn’t manly, Dillan.”
I cock my head to the side and drag my eyes leisurely down his body, warming as I remember the way every single inch dominated me last night “Sorry to disappoint, hot shot, but some men are pretty, and you’re one of them.”
“Hot shot?” He stalks forward, crowding me until my back is against the wall. “I didn’t exactly hear you complaining.”
Biting back my smile, I relax into this. The normalcy. The banter. This is Rome and me. This is where we’re comfortable. I trace a droplet of water dripping from his hair down the length of his muscled bicep. “I didn’t say you’re all talk and no skill, now did I, Beneventi?”
“More than happy to prove myself again if you need me to.” Damn . . .
The electricity hangs heavy between us. Neither of us moving. Barely breathing. Like we’re locked in this room. Hell, in this minute. Scared that when we leave this space, the spell will break and it’ll have all been a dream.
A phone rings in my bedroom, and Rome’s head whips that way before coming back to me. “It’s just Lucky.” He licks his lips playfully and pushes my hair from my face. “Ignore him.”
It stops ringing after a moment, and he moves closer, those lips hovering above mine, looking as lost as I feel until the damn phone rings again. “I’m gonna fucking kill my brother.”
“Prison wouldn’t look pretty on you, psycho. Orange isn’t your color.” I press my palm to his damp pec and push, but he doesn’t budge. “Go answer him.”
“You trying to get rid of me, Dillan?”
The truth is I don’t know what I’m doing. But that’s nothing new. It’s also not something I’m willing to share. “Just go answer your phone, you goofball.”
He tugs a tangled lock of my hair, and there’s something there, hiding behind his eyes, before he closes them for a hot second.
When he opens them, whatever emotion had been floating there is gone, and the hard facade I’m used to is in its place.
Rome steps back and smirks. “Maybe we can get some breakfast. I’ll even let you drive.
That is . . . unless you want another ride on my bike. ”
Playful Rome is back, and his smile is devastating. But I kind of liked the serious side I got a glimpse of before.
I nod and tighten the sash on my robe. “Go answer your brother before he sends out a search party looking for you.”
“Bossy. I like it.”
Before I can answer, he’s through the door and closing it behind him.
Not completely but enough, and I’m grateful for the moment of space.
For the moment to wrap my head around all this.
All of him. In a million years, I never would have expected whatever last night was.
But considering I haven’t stopped smiling since I woke up wrapped around Rome like a freaking koala bear, I think I’m going to go with it.
Maybe it’s time to take a chance.
Not that I’m good at taking chances.
At least not according to my family.
But something about this feels different.
Something about him . . .
Something that makes me smile when not much else has done that lately.
Rome’s voice carries as he answers the call, sexy and sleep-deprived, and I picture the smirk probably playing on his lips while ignoring the fact Lucky’s so damn loud on the other end of the line, I can hear him from here.
More like trying to ignore it as I moisturize my face and grab my toothbrush.
But then . . . Shit. Then it gets harder to ignore.
Especially when I hear Lucky’s words and my breath catches in my throat as I wait for Rome’s answer.
Closing the distance between me and the door, I hold my breath, knowing what’s coming next but wishing so badly he proves me wrong.
Problem is, I’m not.
Damn you, Rome.
Rome
“What the fuck, man?” I groan as I answer my obnoxious-ass brother, who’s now called three times. “Seriously, somebody better be dying, dick.”
Lucky’s laugh is loud and annoying. “I’m bored, and I’m hungry. Want to go to breakfast?”
“Your football season’s been over for like a minute.
How are you bored?” Why am I even asking?
I look around Dillan’s bedroom, taking it in now more than I have all night.
That would have required me to stop looking at her, and that wasn’t happening.
Fuck. What a night. I grab my jeans as Lucky bitches about football ending.
“Seriously. I don’t care. What do you need? ”
“Where the hell did you go last night that has you in such a shit mood?” he grumbles, apparently not in the mood to deal with my brand of shit this morning. Same, brother, same. “You find an easy piece of ass, then find out she was a bad lay or something?”
“Or something.” I pull up my jeans and shrug on my shirt as he fucking laughs.
“Damn, man. That sucks. It doesn’t matter how hot a woman is. If she’s a lousy lay, there’s no hope. Sorry.”
Hearing him talking like that has me wanting to plant my fist in his face, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying.
And he doesn’t know I went home with Dillan.
Lucky doesn’t need to know that. No one does.
Not yet. There are layers to this woman I need to work through before we go there.
Before she lets us go there. But she’s going to let us.
“Who was she?” he pushes as I find my wallet thrown on the floor.
I look at the sheets tangled on the bed and grin. “No one important. Just another night. Not worth thinking about again.”
“I’m hungry, man. Meet me for breakfast,” he demands.
“Fuck off, and get your roommate to go with you, asshole. I’m busy. I’ll catch you later.” I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket, then pick up the empty condom wrappers thrown all over the floor.
Dillan walks out a minute later. Her robe is tied in a perfect bow, arms crossed over her chest and miles of her soft, silky hair is thrown up in a messy knot on top of her head.
A few strands skim her red cheeks, and my fingers fucking itch to touch them.
To push them away from her face and drag her lips up to mine.
Fuck me . . . how the hell is this possible?
This attraction?
How have we danced around each other for so fucking long without this thing between us boiling over before now, and why the hell did we wait so goddamned long to tip the fucking pot?
“You hungry, Dillan?” I grin as I walk toward her, but she takes a step back, an icy mask sliding into place.
“Nope,” she says abruptly. “I’m good. I think it’s time for you to go.” Dillan forces her chin up, but her eyes don’t meet mine as that mask goes from cold to bored. “I’ve got a lot to get done today. Could you lock the door behind you?”
She steps into her closet like she didn’t just kick me out of her house.
What the fuck?
“Dillan?” I ask and move toward the closet, but she closes the door behind her. I’ve wanted this woman for years and finally spent hours buried inside her, and she just shut the goddamned door in my face.
“You can let yourself out, Rome,” she calls out, and I’m left staring at the fucking mirror hanging from the closet door.
I want to ask her what the fuck changed from ten minutes ago, when she was coming on my face, to now. Because I thought—
“Bye, Rome,” she calls out, essentially dismissing me.
As if she hadn’t already done that.
Well, fuck this.
And fuck her.