CHAPTER 7
ROMAN
I run my hand over my face as I follow Carter up the stairs from his pretty impressive home gym. I actually have to pinch my arm because how is this real? I’m an ex-con. This guy doesn’t know me from Adam, even if he is joking around about marrying me. Really, he doesn’t know anything about me, yet here he is offering me not only a place to lay my head but he's giving me full access to his house, gym and food. All he wants in return is help remodeling? I do not have that kind of luck. I would have been happy to sleep on his couch since it's twice the size of my brother’s, but he has offered me my own space and freedom. I don’t have the words to express my gratitude to this guy who is practically a stranger.
Maybe there is more to the offer that I haven’t figured out yet, but something is telling me that with Carter things are exactly how you see them. After spending fifteen long years incarcerated with hundreds of men from all walks of life, I like to think that I am better now at reading a person and gauging their intent. Carter hasn’t shown me any red flags and he’s my brother's best friend. He can’t be that much of an asshole or I doubt Ryan would give him the time of day. I’m sure he would at least warn me before waving me off to go live with the guy.
“Listen, Carter,” I say when we reach the living room. He jumps over the back of the couch before turning to look at me, his pouting frown stopping me in my tracks. He looks stupidly adorable holding Hulk beside his cheek, both of them giving me sad puppy eyes.
“Please don’t say you want to leave. Just warning you now, I will cry. I am not afraid to weaponize my tears or my dog's cuteness,” he says, making his chin wobble which has me darting forward to rest my hands on his shoulders.
“Jesus, Tatts, I just wanted to say thank you.” I laugh, pressing my finger to the underside of his chin to stop it from wobbling. My other hand rises to scratch Hulk's head. “I’m not going anywhere. This place is amazing and if you don’t mind me working off my rent around the house until I can get a real job, then I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I assure him and watch as he visibly relaxes and instantly turns back to his aggressively flirty self.
“Well, you could always put the gift horse in your mouth?” he suggests nonchalantly and I burst out laughing, then stand up straighter, as something just occurs to me.
“Is that your way of telling me that I need to suck your dick as payment?” I ask, raising a brow and crossing my hands over my chest in faux offense. The look of absolute horror on his face almost has me cracking, but I hold firm, keeping my eyes locked with his.
“Oh my God, NO, I would never. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was kidding, I… I, Jesus, Roman, please bel—” I cut off his rambling by pressing my lips softly against his, a smile spreading across my face as a whimper-like sound escapes his throat.
“I was kidding, Tatts, I know that's not what you meant.” My words whisper across his cheek as I plant a soft kiss there before backing up and walking around the couch to drop down in front of the TV.
“So how does this FortRight thing work?” I ask, grabbing a controller from the coffee table and sitting back to wait for Carter's brain to come back online. I got to admit seeing the effect I have on him, being able to leave him literally stunned with just a peck to the lips, massages my deflated ego just a smidge. Carter is seriously hot, all muscles and tattoos. He has a successful career, he's so talented, owns his own home and for some unknown reason he has decided to hitch himself to my train wreck of a wagon. Not that I am ready to dip my toe into the dating pool but the thought of getting my hands on that body makes my jeans uncomfortably tight.
CARTER
ERROR…
ERROR…
ERROR…
CANNOT COMPUTE.
I have no idea how long I sit there frozen, kneeling on the couch with my fingers touching my lips. The lips that Roman just kissed. Could have been minutes or hours. Either way, I lost all sense of time, because instead of standing in front of me, Roman is now sitting on the couch with a PlayStation controller in his hand staring at me with a knowing smirk. He’s sitting with his legs spread wide, leaning back on my couch, one hand resting casually on his thigh, the other thumbing over the joystick on the controller. He’s watching me with heat in his eyes, he knows exactly what that kiss did to me and he likes it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Soulmates. I mean, is there anything sexier than a man with the confidence to make the first move. At least I think that's what he was doing. Maybe he was just fucking with me. Either way, the whole thing was sexy as fuck and if he thinks he can get away with giving me just a hint of a taste and leaving it at that, he has another thing coming.
Without so much as a word, I crawl my way closer to him then swing my legs over his, straddling his lap and following his lead I smash my lips to his, except this isn’t a playful or chaste kiss. This is an exploratory kiss. I want to know every millimeter of his lips and every corner of his mouth, hell, I want to tickle his damn tonsils.
Running my tongue along the seam of his lips in a silent plea for admission, I groan when he grants me access and every one of my senses are assaulted by everything that is him. How he tastes like the ginger ale he drank with dinner. How he smells like soap and spicy cologne. How he feels like every one of my desires rolled into one.
I’m in fucking heaven.
His strong hands grip my hips and hold my grinding pelvis in place. Neither pulling me closer or pushing me away. My cock is so hard in my jeans it’s attempting to punch its way out to get to him. Reluctantly pulling my lips away, I lay my forehead against his, both of us panting for breath, wrecked by a kiss. Although, I expect Roman hasn’t had a lot of hot kisses over the last fifteen years so his inability to form a sentence is fair. Me, however, I have zero excuses other than the fact that kiss just melted my already fried brain.
“Did you call it FortRight?” I ask, sitting back on his thighs to ensure he can see the confusion on my face. I'm not entirely sure that I didn’t just make that up, given the aforementioned brain frying.
“Is that not what it’s called?” he asks with a shrug, without taking his hands off my hips. He’s definitely in love with me. Can’t tell me otherwise.
“Jesus, you would think you had been locked up for the last decade.” I wink and slide off his lap grabbing the other controller and loading up the game. I’m gonna play it cool. Pretend that the kiss we shared didn't just blow my damn mind. It’s just how it is supposed to be. Kissing my husband shouldn’t be a big deal, so I'm not gonna make it one. I wonder if I can just lead him into my bedroom and snuggle him to sleep. He looks like he would be an excellent snuggler and my ass is ready to volunteer as tribute to give his dick a cozy warm home for the night. Surely after like a month of acting like his husband he just has to accept it and make me a Hilson.
I nod to myself then look out of the corner of my eyes to watch Roman trying to figure out how to make his character change weapons. I should probably let him in on my plan, but I like surprises and I can’t wait to throw a party for him and have banners that say ‘Surprise, we’re married!’ I’m now laughing to myself and drawing his attention to me.
“You are a very strange dude,” he states then turns back to the TV. “I kinda like it.” I hear his mumbled words loud and fucking clear. Leaning over I lick a stripe up his stubbled jaw then drop a smacking kiss on his cheek.
Spinning to look at me, I almost burst out laughing at the shocked and slightly disgusted look on his face.
“I like you too.” For some reason my explanation makes his face screw up even more, which in turn makes me frown. “What? You don’t like kissylicks? You never licked the last cookie so nobody else would take it?” I don’t believe that for a second. I've witnessed Ryan licking all the donuts in the box thinking it would stop me eating one. More fool him, I ate all four in one go. So there is no way that Roman hasn’t used that sound logic.
“Am I the cookie in this scenario?” He still looks perplexed.
“Yes, you are one big chocolate chip cookie that I would happily get type 2 diabetes for in order to lick from head to toe.” That seems to make him laugh which I bask in the sound of. I want to keep making him laugh like that for the rest of our lives.
“I can assure you, after a long day walking around this city that my toes are not going to taste like cookies.” See, I think by saying that he thinks he's putting me off, but little does he know.
“I’m not usually into footplay, but for you, I’m willing to try anything. Let your freak flag fly, this is a judgment-free zone. Unless you come at me wanting to shit on my chest, I’m going to have to take a hard pass on that one, but I won’t judge you for it.” This time his jaw almost looks unhinged as it swings open.
“For the love of God, please stop talking, Carter.” I can’t help but laugh as he slaps his hand over my mouth in an effort to shut me up. Naturally I lick his palm. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.