Chapter 18 #2
Chance goes directly to Jane and starts doing his grinding thing on her as other men from Playboys 4 Hire spread out through the crowd and pick a group of women to dance for.
But I couldn’t tell you what any of them look like or what they’re wearing.
My eyes are locked on the man who eclipses all others in his presence.
During the day, he commands a room simply with his confident-bordering-on-arrogant demeanor and GQ model appearance.
But times like now, when he embraces his Ruthless persona so completely, other men practically bow in deference to him as he walks by, and women are overcome with debilitating desire and longing.
And maybe it’s not forever, or even for very much longer, but for right now, he’s all mine.
Holy fuck, he couldn’t look any more edible if he covered himself in vanilla frosting.
He’s got all of his Ruthless touches, minus the eyeliner tonight.
Everything else is there—the messy hair, piercings, leather wristbands, wallet chain, and unlaced black motorcycle boots—with his favorite pair (is it dorky that I love knowing that?) of ripped up jeans.
But instead of his typical wife-beater, he totally changed it up by wearing an untucked white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to expose his strong, tatted forearms.
“Dayyyyuuuum,” Jane’s cousin Julia says on my left as Roman stops in front of me, forcing us to tilt our heads back to see him properly.
I can’t help the smug smile as I say, “That about sums it up.”
He answers with a cocky smirk, but he doesn’t pay any attention to poor Julia.
His eyes are trained steadily on mine as he straddles my legs, leans forward to grab the back of my chair, and starts rolling his hips like he’s fucking to the beat of the music.
He straightens and slowly runs his hands up from crotch to chest, then as an electric guitar strikes a particularly powerful chord, he rips his shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere and stealing the breath from any woman watching.
I haven’t torn my eyes away from him from the moment he stepped from the house, and I know I’m not the only one because that little move garnered him a collective, audible gasp followed by moaning exhales.
He smiles that fuck yeah I know I’m sexy smile as he removes the ruined shirt and tosses it behind him.
He spreads my legs wide open then jumps up onto the chair, perching on the balls of his feet in the small space created between my thighs, bends his knees outward to put his cock eye-level, then pulls my head in to grind millimeters from my face.
And because his thighs are blocking everyone’s view but his as he stares down at me, I stick my tongue out and lick his jean-clad cock.
Ice-blue irises are swallowed by the black of his pupils, and though I can’t hear it over the music and girlish squeals of laughter, I know he gives me a lusty growl in response to my brazen move.
He jumps down and hoists me up his body with his arms wrapped tightly under my ass.
I hold on to his bare shoulders and bow my head so my hair falls like curtains to hide our faces.
He nips my lower lip, making me suck in a sharp breath. “Trying to make me lose my shit in front of all these nice people, babe?”
“Not at all, my Roman sex god,” I say with a saucy grin, proud of myself for using his name in that one. “I’m trying to make it so you take me somewhere you can lose your shit in front of me.”
“All in due time.”
Before I can complain about him giving me his usual cryptic BS, he spins me in his arms and catches me around my hips again. I’m facing away from him now, and I barely brush the hair out of my eyes when I hear him say, “Grab onto the chair.”
I look down at the chair, which from this height might as well be a mile.
I feel one of his hands between my shoulder blades.
“What? I can’t—ahh!” I let out a short bark of surprise as he pushes me forward so I’m draped over his other forearm and the chair is now well within reaching distance.
I grab the sides of the chair to help support my weight while Roman positions me into straddling him in mid-air and grabs hold of my hips.
My nervous laugh is cut off at the first roll of his cock against my pussy, the double layer of our jeans a cruel tease of what we could be enjoying if we weren’t in a crowd of people.
I hook my ankles behind his back, drop my head forward, and breathe through the sensation of tingles radiating in my sex.
I lose all track of time and the rest of the world fades away as Roman continues to mimic things he does to me in private, manipulating my body into position after position until I’m a total mess, sober as a judge except for being drunk on dry-humping like I’m fifteen again in the back of my prom date’s pickup.
Finally, he puts me back in my chair, leaving me with all the exhaustion of sex and none of the release, but I can’t even care because I’d endure this torture and so much more as long as I can keep watching him dance.
The man is magnificent, and he uses his body in ways I didn’t know were possible, and ways that should definitely be illegal in public.
As the song ends and rolls into another sexy number, Roman takes pity on Julia who’s been slack-jawed and nearly drooling this entire time, giving her some much needed stripper love.
This should probably bother me on some primal level, but it doesn’t.
That doesn’t mean I’ve joined his school of thought on sharing—a bitch would have to pry his dick out of my cold dead hands, and even then I’d probably terrorize her from beyond the grave—but the attention of the other women on him doesn’t give me a twinge of jealousy.
Not even when Julia runs her hands over his chest and abs, or when she grabs his ass.
I find myself actually smiling because I know he’s not interested in them for anything more than what this is. He stressed from the beginning that he’s a one-woman man. His sharing only extends to me with other men.
Speak of the devil, Austin sidles up in front of me and starts doing his stripper thing.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the infamous phone call, and I’ve been nervous about how things were going to be between us, but it was all for nothing.
True to form, he gives me a wink and a charming smile—not lustful or sexual in the least—and uses moves on me that are more playful, like a friend having fun with you at a school dance so you don’t feel awkward being the only girl without a date.
Not that I’m dateless, but mine is a little busy at the moment.
I laugh and stand up, adding some exaggerated moves of my own until we’re having a ridiculous stripper dance-off with each other.
Roman and Julia join in so we have a guys versus girls thing going.
When I can barely stand from laughing so hard, we all find seats—Roman sits in mine and pulls me into his lap (cue lovesick sigh)—and enjoy the party that’s shifted from makeshift strip club back to graduation party, with the addition of gorgeous men.
After another hour or so, Roman leans in so his lips brush my ear when he talks.
“Feel like continuing the party in a more private setting?” A rush of heat flows through me and settles between my legs.
I nod almost imperceptibly, but he reads me loud and clear.
“There’s a guest bedroom in the basement, off of the game room.
Do you know where that is?” Another nod.
“Go there then close and lock the door. Strip completely naked. Get the blindfold on the bed and make sure it’s good and tight, then wait. I’ll follow you soon.”
“But the door?” I ask.
“Chance gave me the key.” I feel myself blush as I glance over where Chance and Jane are talking to their moms. “Don’t get shy on me now, babe. It’s not like Chance plans on announcing it to the party.”
He’s right. Who cares if Chance knows Roman has a sexual interlude planned for us in his house? I know for a fact Chance has screwed my best friend while I was in their house before, and my only thought was, “Get it, girl!”
I turn my head, frame his stubbly jaw with my hands, and kiss him wholly and deeply before pulling back and whispering. “Don’t make me wait too long, or I’ll be naked, blindfolded, and ornery.”
“Fucking you happy again has appeal. You should know better than to issue me a challenge.”
I give him my best sassy grin and say, “Oh, I do.” Then I rise and sashay my ass across the patio and into the house.