Chapter 21
Ren
Idon't know what time it was when Roman came home, but when we fell back asleep, the sun’s first rays were painting the sky. So, when my phone starts ringing, all I know is the sky outside my window is a brilliant blue, the sun full and bright.
The first call I send to voicemail with a blind slap to the nightstand, snuggling closer to Roman, who, between when I fell back asleep and now, has put on a durag.
The second time, it rings I begrudgingly roll over and actually look.
My stomach drops when I see an unknown number.
Eight out of ten odds it’s my mom, and she’d only be calling this early if something was wrong.
“Oh, good, you’re alive.” My blood goes cold.
I sit up, clutching the comforter to my chest. “Lewis?”
Roman, who up until this moment, I thought was still asleep, suddenly rolls over, alert.
“You had me worried, Serenity.” For a split second, I feel bad, almost fooled by the drip of sincerity in his voice. “You haven’t returned a single call or text. The least you could do is let me know you’re okay—”
“Because I blocked you,” I say firmly. Roman props himself up on his elbow and watches attentively, supportively.
“You what?” And just like that, any hint of genuine concern is gone. “How immature, Ren.” I grind my teeth together and exhale tediously though my nose, waiting for his tantrum to end. “And to believe I was actually concerned about you, and all the while you were just acting like a goddamn child.”
“Are you done?” I’m surprised my voice doesn’t shake with rage. Which probably has something to do with Roman scooting closer, his hand slithering across the top of my thigh.
“That’s it?” he scoffs. “That’s all you have to say to me?”
Roman’s hand dips between my legs, his eyes full of devilish intent, and I bite back a giggle to say, “Well, now that you know I’m doing just fine, goodbye, Lewis. And don’t bother calling me again. I’ll be blocking this number too.”
“Go ahead, it won’t last long. You’ll come crawling back. I was the best thing that ever happened to you . . .” I don’t listen to the rest of his tirade, pulling the phone away from my ear.
“Don’t hang up.” Roman takes it from me before I can. Instead, he puts the call on speaker and reaches over me to set it on the bedside table. “Let him hear how well you’re doing without him.”
I slide out of my sitting position as he climbs on top of me. My blood thrums as he pushes my tits together before salaciously tracing each nipple with an exaggerated circle of his tongue. He groans softly as they instantly harden, turning a deeper rosy shade.
Lewis’s prattling might as well be white noise for as much attention as I’m paying it. I only tune back in when Roman stops and gives a pointed look and nod toward the phone.
“Ren. Ren? Are you still there? Are you even listening to me?” His frustration makes me fill with glee.
Especially because as he’s huffing and puffing, Roman is nudging my knees apart with his wide shoulders and settling between my legs. He drags his nose up the crease between my pussy and thigh, his soft breath and beard tickling the sensitive skin.
“Yes,” I exhale heavily. Lewis thinks I’m answering him, but really it’s Roman making the first drag of his tongue through my slit.
“Good. Because I’m serious, Ren.”
Serious about what? I never find out, too busy clamping my hand over my mouth as Roman sucks and swirls my clit with a heavy tongue. I release a muffled whimper when he stops, smirking up at me and pulling my hand away.
“Let him hear you,” he whispers smugly.
“What? Is someone there?” I stifle a laugh at Lewis’s confusion.
I can’t deny the brazen thrill I get when I let the next moan slip out uninhibited.
“Huh? I can’t hear you—”
“Oh, yes.” I gasp as two thick fingers are thrust inside my dripping cunt. I grind my hips up, both hearing and feeling Roman’s appreciative, rumbly groan in response.
“Ren, I can’t hear you,” Lewis snipes, growing increasingly irritated.
“God, yes.” I mewl, digging my fingers into Roman’s strong back and shoulders.
“Yes, what?” Lewis shouts, and I smile giddily, as much at Lewis’s vexation as Roman’s talented tongue.
He works me higher and higher, his fingers pumping in and out, and I rock harder and harder into him, chasing that exquisite rise of pressure and pleasure.
“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I bite out sharply, my toes curling into the sheets. I’m distantly aware of Lewis’s irate cursing as he finally puts two and two together, but I’m too far gone to care.
In fact, his presence only makes me beg harder. “Oh fuck, Roman, I want you inside me. Please let me come on your cock.”
I’ll never know how Lewis responds because before filling me to the hilt, Roman slaps my phone away, making it fly off the table. I watch it skitter across the floor with wide eyes.
“If it’s broken, I’ll buy you a new one.” Roman pants as he cages my head with his forearms and thrusts into me.
“You think I give a shit about my phone right now?” I laugh, and I think his deep, husky laugh in return is just about my favorite sound in the world.2
Fifteen minutes later, a thunderstorm of knocks raps on my front door, simultaneous with one long, continuous buzz of my doorbell.
Nestled closely on Roman’s chest, the barrage of noise doesn’t startle me.
Instead, I’m more annoyed, if anything, as I instinctively reach for my phone to check the doorbell camera.
“Oops,” I mutter with a small giggle as I come up empty-handed. My phone, of course, is still somewhere—potentially shattered—on my bedroom floor.
“I’ll look,” Roman offers with a crooked smile and slides out of bed to peer out the window down at my front stoop. He chuckles smugly. “This should be fun.”
There’s a confident, almost eager air about him as he pulls on his pants.
“Who is it?” I ask even though I knew the second his demeanor changed who it was.
Running his hand up my leg under the covers, he gives me a brief kiss and squeezes my knee. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
He doesn’t say it dismissively, and I have no doubt he can handle Lewis, yet I still get up. Throwing on my shorts and cami set, I insist, “Let me talk to him.”
He nods, giving me a proud once-over, wetting his bottom lip. “Of course.”
Even in pajamas, I’ve never felt more empowered than I do walking down the stairs with Roman behind me.
Lewis doesn’t stop his incessant knocking the entire time it takes us to reach the front door, but it doesn’t bother me.
In fact, I’m unashamed of the joy I take in knowing he’s only getting more and more riled up while I have never felt calmer and more in control.
I open the door, and he sputters, all red and flustered, “Oh, oh, so this is who you’ve been cheating on me with?” He throws a hand in Roman’s direction, standing at my back.
My jaw literally drops. I’m absolutely stunned. “In what conceivable world are we still together?” Flabbergasted, that’s what I am.
“We never broke—”
I swiftly cut off whatever bullshit train he was about to get on. “In fact, in what world were we ever together?”
“How can you say that?” He balks, and I hear Roman snort, amused, behind me.
“Because you were married the entire time!” I don’t care that the person walking their dog across the street turns their head at my raised voice. There’s only one person who should be embarrassed here, and it sure as hell isn’t me.
He opens and closes his mouth like a damn trout, unable to respond, and I wonder if I’m the first person to call him out on his shit. Realizing he’s just a pathetic man with an ego that got too big for his britches has me spelling out the next part slowly.
“Now, you’re going to leave my stoop, delete my number, and do me the favor of never having to see your face again, because lord knows you owe me at least that.” He opens his mouth to say something, and I wag out my finger. “Uh-uh. Leave. Now.”
He blinks, stupefied, before turning around and schlepping down the steps. I stand in the doorway, watching his usually arrogant posture deflate.
Roman wraps his arm across my chest and kisses my temple. “You’re fucking amazing.”
Lewis drops his car keys while taking them out of his pocket in a failed attempt to get out of here quickly.
“One sec,” Roman says before casually jogging down to the sidewalk.
He manages to reach Lewis’s keys before him, and when they both stand back up, Roman’s at least half a foot taller. And shirtless, his chiseled muscles looking like velvet-draped marble in the sun. While Lewis looks like Captain America before he got the superhero serum.
Roman holds his fist with the keys out but doesn’t release them into Lewis’s waiting palm right away.
Instead, he clasps him by the shoulder and yanks him unwillingly closer.
I can’t make out his words but can clearly see the effect they have on Lewis, who goes rigid as stone, eyes wide with fear.
He nods rapidly, muttering something that looks like yes, yes.
Finally, Roman drops the keys into Lewis’s near-shaking palm. He claps him on the shoulder. With a friendly but sure tone, loud enough for me to hear, he says, “Alright, good meeting you and glad we understand each other.”
I don’t give Dr. George Lewis Guzman one more second of my attention.
Instead, I look at Roman with a proud smile and watch him take the steps two at a time back to me.
In the doorway, he reaches down to hug me, and I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and looping my arms around his neck.
I pull him in for a bruising kiss as he walks us inside, slamming the door and leaving one massively mediocre man behind.
1. Play "S.L.U.T."—Bea Miller until end of chapter
2. P.S. Yep, it's me again, letting you know there is also spicy art for this scene here.