Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
CLOVER
I’m not sure what’s stronger this morning. The headache, or the feeling of shock over waking up in Roman Everett’s bed.
I suppose I deserve a bit of a headache for the one I inflicted on the Darkness Rising team yesterday.
When I slowly open my eyes, it takes me a minute to adjust to the warm sunlight streaming in from the floor to ceiling windows lining the room.
I look over to the bedside table, where a glass of water and some ibuprofen are waiting for me.
I gulp them down like they’re life-sustaining, because frankly they are.
Scanning the room, I can see Roman in a large armchair near the bed. He’s leaning back as best he can, eyes closed after finally succumbing to exhaustion. I make my way over to him and stand before him for a minute, quietly observing.
He looks so peaceful, and I’m relieved that he’s finally resting after how stressful the last day has been. Guilt sits heavy in my chest.
I can’t believe I fucked the stunt up. I don’t even want to look at my phone, I know Anita will have some choice words about that.
I’m sure everyone will. The last thing the film studio wants is a delay, and I just handed them one on a crash mat.
Swiping a tear before it has a chance to fall onto my face, I focus my attention back on Roman.
Stupid, beautiful Roman. With his perfectly mussed hair, dark lashes that make me envious, and a chin with a tiny dimple that’s so perfect I want to stare at it.
With the softest touch I can manage, I trace my fingertip down his tattooed forearm, following the lines in the ink and dancing across the chorded muscle and on to the back of his hand. While gently running my fingertip there, I recall something I hadn’t had time to process until now.
This hand. This hand reached out for me mid-stunt when Roman adjusted to try to catch me.
My throat tightens. I’m sure Tanya will rake him over the coals for trying to adjust, saying he could’ve hurt himself too.
And that’s what makes it hard for me to swallow right now.
The knowledge that Roman put himself in danger to try to help me.
He tried so hard to grab me. When it was clear I was going to fall, he tried to stop it, even if that meant putting himself at risk.
“Idiot,” I mouth with a smile as I pull my hand back to stop another tear from getting out. Feeling the urge to sniffle, I head toward the ensuite.
When I come back out, the large piano catches my attention, and I make my way over to it.
I let my hand trail along the cool ivory keys without pressing down, feeling the smoothness of their surface, and wondering how often Roman plays.
I knew he had some instruments, but for some reason I hadn’t pegged him as a piano player.
I remember years ago my parents had signed me up for piano lessons, which lasted all of about a few months before I switched over into theater classes. I wish I could play– there’s something so beautiful about the piano.
Taking a seat at the bench, I move my hands over the keys in position for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Careful not to press down and make noise to wake Roman, I lose myself in the imagined sound, trying carefully to map out the various notes of the song.
Large hands cover mine atop the keys, and I gasp. I try to move my hands off the piano but Roman gently holds them in place.
“Close,” he murmurs before moving my left hand over by one key and pressing down.
The notes ring out with a clarity I’ve never heard before.
No doubt a result of how expensive this piano must be.
I slightly lift my hands, and we move into the next chord, Roman pressing into my fingers so that I press the keys. Playing together.
“I knew you played an instrument,” I mumble as the song plays.
“So smart,” he whispers, placing a kiss behind my ear.
As we continue the song, my mind races. Roman guides my fingers so we never miss a note. They wind through the space around us, somehow saying things I don’t feel like I can convey with words alone.
Anticipating the end of the song, dread fills me.
I’m not ready for the touch to be over. I don’t want to stop feeling him this close to me.
It’s intimate in a way that I haven’t experienced with him yet.
Just before the last notes of the song ring out, Roman moves us toward some keys that don’t make sense to me.
Slowly he works our hands into a new melody.
It’s soft and beautiful, and it’s not something I recognize.
There’s a touch of melancholy to it, and something about it brings tears to my eyes.
“What is this?” I whisper, suspicion taking hold in my gut.
For a mouthy guy, Roman’s being awfully quiet right now. Instead of answering, his head drops to the crook of my neck, where he gently places a kiss that sends sparks exploding across my skin.
“Roman... did you compose this?” I breathe out so quietly I’m not sure he can hear.
He’s silent again, save for the kisses he dots along my neck and collarbone. Eventually, he gives a small nod of confirmation.
Thousands of questions race through my mind. “When?”
“A little while ago,” he murmurs from behind my ear, placing another soft kiss there.
My pulse raises.
“What’s it called?”
He pauses for a few seconds. “It doesn’t have a name yet.” For some stupid, illogical reason, disappointment floods my system. Of course, it’s not like he wrote this song for–
“Whatever it’s called, it’s yours,” he answers simply, as if those words didn’t crack my chest open. My heart stutters, and I turn my head as much as I can toward him. His cool blue eyes bore into mine, and there’s a sincerity in there that I haven’t seen yet, at least not in the light of day.
Slowly swinging my legs over the piano bench, I turn so that I’m facing him.
He places his hands on either side of me, effectively caging me in.
I gingerly raise my hands to cup his face, and when I make contact, he closes his eyes, sighing as though the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.
“I don’t understand,” I admit.
His eyes snap open in question.
“I thought... you didn’t like me for the longest time.”
“You’re right,” he says, dropping to his knees while maintaining eye contact with me.
“I didn’t.” The hands that were on the sides of my hips begin to move inward, his fingers touching the fabric at the top of my sleep shorts.
He pulls the fabric down, and I wiggle to help him do so.
“I didn’t like you at first because you called me on my shit,” he says with a grin as he looks up at me.
“Someone’s got to do it…” I tease.
“I was so fucking wrong.” His hands land on my ass cheeks and he pulls me forward so that I’m mere inches away from his mouth.
Now, with him here, it’s hard to believe I ever felt self conscious about him doing this. About sharing this part of myself with him. It’s so obvious to me that we make sense. He sees me as I am. I’m safe with him.
“You’re smart.” He licks my pussy, and I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep quiet.
“You’re strong.” He places an open-mouthed kiss right on top of my clit, and I swear I lose the ability to think coherent thoughts.
“You’re fucking stunning.” He sucks it and a sinks a finger inside me.
“You make me want to be better.” He buries his face in my pussy before pulling away with a smile once more. “And you taste fucking delicious.”
His fingers curl up inside me and push a spot that makes me see stars. In time with the movements of his tongue, it leaves me writhing on the piano bench. I’m having a hard time staying upright with all these sensations.
“Lean back,” he instructs.
“But the keys...”
“Be a good girl. Lean back and make a mess on my face.”
He pushes me so that I’m leaning on the keys. Of course they make noise, but we’re past the point of caring. His fingers work me, and I feel myself ready to shatter.
“That’s it,” Roman coaches. “Come for me.” He gives me no other choice when he swirls his tongue over my clit once more.
Gasping as the waves of pleasure wash over me, I pull at his hair, guiding his face as I ride through the orgasm.
When it finally winds down, he pulls away from me and stands. On legs as weak as a baby deer’s, I close the distance between us and pull his face to mine.
This kiss is different. While most of our kisses before have been scripted, or frantic kisses driven purely by lust, this one is slower, gentler.
There’s a tenderness in the way he takes my mouth slowly.
His tongue sweeps in and we kiss deeply, taking our time to explore one another.
I press my hands to his chest, as his trail my sides before resting on my waist.
I push his chest, guiding him back over toward the bed.
“Your head,” he worries as he scans my face.
“It’s fine, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything.”
While normally I’d appreciate the gallantry, I need him so desperately right now it’s borderline painful. “If you don’t get on that bed, I won’t be fine,” I promise.
He chuckles against my lips, and the feeling is so perfect I never want it to end.
“Well, in that case, have your way with me, Sparky.”
Wasting no time, I pull his pajama pants down, and I take his thick hard cock in my hands. He pulls his shirt off as I’m doing so, exposing his perfectly sculpted chest. His hands skim the hem of my shirt.
“May I?” he asks softly before kissing along my jaw. My heart rate increases. Being completely naked in front of Roman? “You can leave it on if you want,” he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
It’s his understanding that has me feeling brave enough to pull the shirt up and over my head in one swift movement, before I have a chance to think better of it.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” And there’s something about the way he says it, the way he’s looking at me. Reverently. With his eyes tracing my frame, it’s easy to believe it. To feel it.
“Your turn,” I whisper. He presses his chest to mine, virtually nothing separating us. Pressing kisses along my neck, Roman backs toward the bed until he sits there, pulling me forward.
He takes my nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. His hand moves to the other, teasing the sensitive spot and making me weak in the knees. I push him back onto the bed further so he’s right where I want him.
“Do you want to grab a–” he starts.
“No.” My answer is firm. I don’t want anything separating us anymore. “I’ve got an IUD and last time I was tested, everything came back clear.”
“Same,” he says, “well except for the IUD part.”
“Shut up,” I laugh before kissing him quiet.
“I need you,” he begs when our lips break apart. Straddling him, I line his cock up at my entrance and slide onto him.
Roman stares at where we’re joined, enraptured by the sight of himself sinking into me. “Oh, fuck,” he groans as I sit fully on him, ensuring he’s completely inside of me.
Adjusting to the fullness, I take a few seconds to breathe before I rock my hips. Roman pulls me down so that our foreheads touch, and he thrusts in and out of me. His mouth is slightly agape in awe and pleasure.
I moan as he continues his movements, setting a pace that’s wringing pleasure out of me, the angle of his thrusts hitting my sensitive front wall.
“Roman,” I whine. I must sound fucking pathetic, but I need to come.
“You like that?”
Nodding against him, I open my eyes and see him smiling up at me. It’s so beautiful it makes my heart skip a beat. It’s a smile that admits I’ve blown past his defenses, and that this is truly him.
When I move to sitting, his thrusts speed up ever so slightly, and they knock me over the edge.
Placing my hands on his chest, I let the sensations roll through me, coming hard.
When I open my eyes, Roman’s looking at me with wonder.
He leans up and pulls me down so that our chests are flush, and he kisses me in a way that lets me know everything he’s said since I came to stay here has been sincere.
That he cares. That he wants me. That this isn’t fake.
Gently rolling, he maneuvers us so that I’m lying on the bed with him still between my legs.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He pulls out a few inches and then pushes back in, my pussy extra sensitive after the orgasm.
I groan as he works his cock in and out, drawing the pleasure out, winding me higher and higher.
Roman bends down to press a tender kiss to my lips before he gets his signature lopsided smile.
“What are you–” he presses his open hand down firmly just below my stomach, applying some pressure that suddenly ratchets up the sensations tenfold. “Holy fuck,” I squeal.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says as my legs begin to shake.
“Roman, oh God, I’m going to–” I don’t even know what I’m going to do, all I know is I’ve never felt anything quite like this. The pressure, the fullness, the absolute bliss.
“Let it happen, I’ve got you.” His thrusts turn harder, deeper, and I explode.
“Fuck, yes,” Roman groans as he moves in and out of me, the sound of my soaked pussy filling the room. “Where do you want me to come?” he grits out. If how he sounds is any indication, it’ll be happening soon.
“Inside me, come inside me.” I don’t know what it is, but for some reason I need him to. I need this next level of closeness.
“You sure?” He’s holding on by a thread.
“Yes,” I breathe, and he falls apart, groaning as he comes deep inside me. He collapses on my chest, and I savor the weight of him on me. His movements slow, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.
We lay there, connected for a few more breaths before he pulls away and heads to the bathroom.
I lay there, shellshocked for a minute. Yeah, we’ve fucked before, but that wasn’t fucking. That was something else.
Leaning up onto my elbows, I take stock of the bed as Roman comes back in with a towel in hand.
To my horror, I realize the bed underneath me is absolutely soaked.
With eyes as wide as saucers, I look over to smiling Roman. “Oh my god. Did... did I...?”
He laughs. “You did.”
“That’s the first time that’s ever happened,” I say, not sure if I’m trying to apologize or justify it.
He walks over to me with the towel and settles himself between my legs, gently wiping me up. “It won’t be the last.”