Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
CLOVER
The smell of Roman’s cologne wraps around me in the tight confines of the elevator on our way up to the room. Why does it have to smell so damn good?
When the doors open, I rush ahead, trying to put a little space between us. I don’t know why I’m bothering when I’m going to be sleeping next to him all night long.
I hope the pillow wall offers the strength to keep me from crawling over and trying to climb Roman like a tree.
Stupid Roman for suggesting we ever have sex.
That thought has been plaguing me ever since he mentioned it, and now that we’re about to be alone together in the same room, it’s like my body is primed to shoot her shot.
Down girl, I mentally whisper to myself.
I can do this.
I can be in the same room as Roman.
The same bed as Roman.
This will not be fodder for my spank bank.
Repeating my mantras over and over again to myself as I brush my teeth, my resolve implodes like a dying star when I come out and see him.
His back is to me, and he’s shirtless, wearing low-cut pajama pants.
They’re a dark blue tartan pattern, and unfortunately for me it’s yet another piece of clothing that perfectly accentuates how great his ass is.
I toss up a quick prayer to the gods of self-restraint as I scurry over to my side of the bed.
Hopping in quickly, I pull the covers up to my chin and try to stare straight at the ceiling.
“You good over there?” comes his smooth voice.
“Mhmm, fine thanks.” My voice comes out about an octave higher than I mean for it to.
Against my better judgment, I peek over to the side as he makes his way over to the bed, bare chest in full view.
I knew I should’ve closed my eyes. The body I’ve been feeling underneath his costume is finally on display, and I am going to need an ice bath.
His abs are so perfectly defined I want to run my fingertips over them, read the contours of them with my fingers, with my tongue…
As he settles in, I feel him dismantling the barrier I built between us.
“Hey!” I whisper aggressively. “You leave that alone. That’s The Great Wall of Don’t Touch Me—it needs to stay intact.” It needs to. What he doesn’t have to know is that I practically require a physical barrier to keep from him at this point.
I blame the wine. The expensive, delicious wine. And today’s outfit. It’s a sin to have something so tailored to his gorgeous body. And while we’re on it, I blame those stupid perfect forearms.
Dragging my gaze across his skin, I’m finally able to appreciate the entirety of Roman’s tattoos, and for some odd reason I have the strange desire to trace the lines with my fingers.
I need to stop wanting to touch this guy.
The dark ink starts on the back of his hand with the compass, then appears to go all the way up and onto his right pec.
Various tattoos turning his skin into a canvas.
Some are floral, some look like scenery from forests to oceans, and then I swear there’s a few musical notes tucked around the different pieces.
There’s a cluster of constellations strewn across the skin.
Squinting, I try to get a closer look at the art that has become a part of Roman.
“Told you you’d get a better look in an hour,” he smirks, and I throw the covers up and over my face. Maybe if I play dead he’ll leave it be? “You know, it’s fine to look. You can touch them if you want.”
Whipping the covers off, I level a glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I would.” His candor throws me for a loop.
“What?”
“Why are you surprised?” he laughs.
My expression must be enough for him to go off, because he continues, “We’ve obviously got chemistry with one another.”
I swallow hard.
“It’d be a shame not to explore it at some point,” he shrugs.
I’m at a loss for words. He nearly cost me this role, he nearly cost me this role… I mentally scream at myself. It’s not working. Nothing is cooling me down. I shouldn’t want to sleep with someone who drives me nuts, and yet here we are.
But instead of acting on it, I roll over and pull the covers back up around my shoulders. Like the stubborn fool I am, I’m going to blame my horniness on the wine, and nothing more.
“Good night, Roman.”
He chuckles and turns out the light, plunging the room into darkness. Sexually charged darkness.