Chapter 29 Addison #2
His wet lips ghost over mine, the barely there kisses like liquid silk.
But I’m too desperate for slow and teasing.
I open under him, and he doesn’t hesitate to accept my invitation.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and he devours me in deep, hungry strokes.
The kiss isn’t rushed or frenzied. It’s slow and intense, consuming and claiming.
He stands and pulls me up, pressing my back into the cool subway tile as he continues to devour me.
We paw at one another’s wet clothes with all the grace of wild animals while we kiss like starved lovers.
Buttons ping to the tile when he rips his shirt open, and I push it off his shoulders so it lands in a sopping mess at our feet.
My dress suffers the same fate after he pulls it up and over my head.
I barely finish unbuckling his pants before he drops to his knees.
I brace myself for the moment when he rips my panties like he’s done so many times in the past—damn it, I love my sheer cheekinis.
But he doesn’t this time. Instead, he presses his nose into my silk-covered mound and sucks on my clit through the damp material.
I fist his hair with both of my hands and arch my hips into him.
His teeth graze and his tongue flicks, teasing me with what I can’t have as long as he keeps the barrier of my underwear between us.
Favorite new pair or not, he can rip them into shreds if it means finally getting his mouth on my flesh.
I mewl and buck, begging without words and praying he puts an end to the torture.
Finally, he slips my panties off, places my right leg over his shoulder, and attacks my sex.
Licking and suckling, he swirls his tongue around my clit, dips it inside, and laps up the juices he draws from the deepest parts of me.
Quivering, I lose myself to the sensations he’s creating with the magic of his oral talents.
My head is dropped back and my eyes are closed.
I tell myself it’s so that the water splashing doesn’t get in my eyes, but a tiny part of me knows it’s so I can avoid the glaring reality of giving in to my weakness.
I know I shouldn’t—and if I’d seen him somewhere that my armor was in place, like court or the office, it would’ve been a different story—but circumstances were such that my guard was down and I was left vulnerable and exposed to the onslaught of emotions seeing him brought on.
I’m so primed for him that my orgasm crashes over me in mere seconds. My leg gives out, but he supports my weight as he wrings the last few tremors from me. Before I have the chance to recover, he gets to his feet, hooks my leg on his hip as he frees his cock, then buries himself to the hilt.
“Roman!” It’s the first time I’ve said his name since he appeared. Hell, it’s the first time I’ve said it in three months. But in just that one word, his name, I say a dozen hidden things.
You made me love you.
You made me believe in you…in us.
How could you toss me away so easily?
Why wasn’t I enough for you?
I miss you so much I can scarcely breathe.
God, you feel so good, so perfect, so goddamn right.
Fuck me.
Love me.
Jesus Christ, I’m a mess and mentally all over the place. But as soon as he starts to move, everything becomes laser focused on the pleasure, on our bodies fitting and moving in ways that redefine the term “made for each other.”
One hand is holding my leg to his hip, the other is clamped around the back of my neck as our mouths lock together in slippery, heated passion.
He starts his thrusts slow, withdrawing and returning in smooth, measured strokes, building my next climax in layers.
Every time he seats himself fully within me is another layer, another second closer to the heaven I know is coming.
Soon his movements become less fluid as his control starts to slip.
He pulls me up and away from the wall then repositions me higher until my toes are barely brushing the tiled floor.
He breaks our kiss in favor of pressing his forehead to mine so we can drag in the air we need.
Staring into my soul, he pumps his hips faster, harder.
My arms are wrapped around his neck, and all I can do is hang on as he pushes us toward our end. His staccato grunts slice through the thick steam engulfing us and bounce off the tiled walls, echoing his pleasure as though emphasizing it for my benefit.
I’m perched on the knife’s edge, ready to fall…waiting…waiting…
“Now, Addison,” Roman growls. “Come for me.”
Sparks shoot behind my eyes as I scream his name then come so hard it cuts off my air and prevents any sound from further escaping my throat.
The waves ripple out from my center through my entire body, making every nerve tingle with ebbing pleasure.
Then he thrusts inside me three more times, so hard that my back slides up and down the wall.
With the last one he holds himself deep inside me and roars in his chest as warm lashes of his seed brand my fluttering walls.
He gently lowers my leg and holds my hips until he’s sure I’m steady on my feet. The water splashing us is now tepid at best, so he reaches over and shuts off the spray as we try to catch our breaths. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps when he drops his head to my neck. “I missed you so goddamn much.”
And that’s what breaks the spell.
I try to push him away again, but he’s an unyielding mountain. Unable to escape bodily, I turn my head and rest the side of my face on the cool tile. “You don’t miss me. It’s nothing more than ego. You want what you don’t have,” I say, closing my eyes against the new spring of tears.
“That’s not true. I didn’t come here for an ego fuck. That’s not what this is.”
“Just leave, Roman. Please.”
“Addison, baby, listen to me.” He cradles my head in his hands and angles it up, forcing me to look at him. “I’m not leaving here without a fight. Not until I show you how much you fucking mean to me. How much I…”
Roman studies my face as though trying to commit it to memory in case I kick him out.
Strong fingers brush away wet strands of my hair that cling to my cheeks.
He licks his lips and swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
An outsider would see an intense man, dark and broody, comprised of refined lines and dangerous edges.
But I see the nerves under all that power.
The uncertainty. Not in whatever it is he’s about to say, because Roman Reeves is always certain of what he wants to say, good, bad, or indifferent.
No, it’s almost as if he’s nervous about how I’ll react to it, and now all the viable possibilities are racing through my mind.
How much I desire you?
How much I missed you?
How much I want to be with you?
“How much you what, Roman?”
I see the moment resolve spreads through him.
It sets his jaw and locks his gaze to mine, and for the first time, the color of his eyes doesn’t remind me of polar caps, but of a warm, summer day.
And when he speaks, there’s a strength and resolution to his voice that bolsters his words. “How much I fucking love you.”
My breath catches on a gasp, my mouth parted and eyes wide. “You…love me?”
“Yeah,” he says, “I do.”
I have no words. None. Roman Reeves has managed to strike me speechless for possibly the first time in my life.
When I don’t move or respond, he steps away to quickly take off the rest of his soaked clothes and grabs a towel off the rack, wraps it low around his hips, then snags another one.
He sweeps it over my body in long strokes, the soft terrycloth greedily soaking up the droplets of water from my skin.
When he crouches to dry off my legs, my tongue comes unglued. “But you don’t believe in love. At least, not for yourself.”
A smile teases the corners of his mouth as he continues tending to me.
“Never thought it could happen. Hell, I never wanted it to happen.” He stands up and wraps a finger in the towel to gently dry my tears.
“But I never had a chance with you, and I think I knew it that first night. You pushed me, challenged me, until I broke all my hard and fast rules and gave in to my desire for you. Then you kept pushing me. In the office, in the club…”
Wrapping the towel under my arms, he tucks in the end and sweeps me up into his arms. I clasp my hands around his neck as he carries me out of the shower and into my bedroom.
“I told myself that I was the one in control, but it was always you leading the way. I was helpless to resist you. I couldn’t walk away, even when I knew I should. ”
He sets me down in front of my dresser and retrieves a pair of panties and a sleep cami from my top drawer.
Removing my towel, he leans down and silently instructs me to step into my panties before sliding them up my legs.
Next he helps me into my camisole then turns me around and begins drying my hair.
I close my eyes and revel in his tender affections as my mind reels from everything he’s told me.
“That night at your apartment. The things you said to me,” I say.
His hands stop, and I think I hear him suck in a breath and hold it.
“I felt like you weren’t merely trying to hurt me.
It was like you were trying to break me. ”
I feel his long stream of expelled breath as he leans his forehead on top of my wet hair.
He pulls me back against him, his arms around my waist like steel bands, as though he’s holding on for dear life.
“From the moment you walked out my door, and every moment since, I’ve hated myself for what I said to you that night. But I thought—”
He sighs and releases me. I turn to face him, my arms hugging my middle as I watch him struggle with the words. “Roman?”
Dragging a hand over the stubble on his jaw, he says gruffly, “I thought you were hooking up with Austin on the side.”
I close my eyes and take a calming breath before I can look at him again.
The volatile cocktail of emotions from the last few months is quickly overtaking the whisky and sex endorphins rushing through my veins.
The slight buzz is wearing off, and in its place is the sharpness of the pain Roman caused me, as fresh as the night it happened.
Leveling him with a glare, I finally respond.
“You know, I thought that maybe you suspected as much, and I understood why that would’ve upset you.
If the roles had been reversed, I would have been spitting mad, too.
But you know what I wouldn’t have done in your place?
” I ask, my voice rising as my emotions get the better of me.
“I wouldn’t have played at entrapment, or attacked your fucking character.
I would have confronted you with what I saw or knew, and asked for an explanation.
And do you know why?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. “Because I loved you, too, goddamn it.”
His eyes widen, which only serves to piss me off more.
“Don’t look at me like that. Of course I loved you.
How you could’ve ever doubted that is beyond me.
It’s not like I was the one who treated you like shit.
Because here’s a newsflash, Roman, when you love someone they deserve the benefit of the doubt and proper communication. Not assumptions and slander.”
Brushing past him, I leave my bedroom and make my way down the hall toward the door so I can usher him out of my apartment and out of my life. With every step, the hot sting of new tears grows in the back of my eyes. Damn it, keep it together. You can fall apart when he’s gone.
“Keep the towel if you want,” I toss over my shoulder as I turn the corner to the main living area. I hear his heavy footfalls behind me.
“Addison—”
“I’ll have your tux dry cleaned and sent over to you.”
“For Christ’s sake, Addie, it’s seventeen degrees outside.”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I just barely manage a hoarse, “That sounds like a you problem.” Then I throw the deadbolt and yank the door open.