Chapter Thirty-Four
Roman
Don’t you love her?
Your mother cares about two things. Money and image. Love doesn’t factor into it.
What do you care about?
My legacy.
- Conversation between Roman, age 13 and his father
I think I might wake up before Lola every morning, just so I can see her like this, splayed out on the bed.
We stayed up well into the dark last night, finishing the final touches on the shop.
Flecks of pale blue paint freckle Lola’s face and arms, her chocolate hair with its shocks of purple tangled on the pillow.
Even in her sleep a little dent digs down between her brows and I give into the urge to smooth it out with my thumb.
She breathes in at my touch, her chest rising before she settles back into the bed, all trace of worry gone. Fuck, I love that I have that effect on her.
The sheets rustle as she shifts again and I hold back a groan as the material slips down, revealing the perfect swell of her breast and just the hint of her dusky brown nipple.
I check my phone, there’s still half an hour or so before Lola’s alarm will go off. Other than stolen kisses, we’ve been too busy to touch each other over the last couple of days, and I don’t think I can wait any longer.
I know that she’s mine, that she loves me the way I love her, but I have this incessant need to claim her all over again. To touch her, and kiss her, and fuck her until we’ve both forgotten how close we came to breaking.
I snag the sheets with my hand and drag them down, holding back a groan as the soft skin of her body is unveiled. I cup her breast in my hand, leaning down to suck at the writing tattooed beneath it.
Lola gasps but doesn’t wake. I hold myself above her and slide my hand under the sheets, finding her damp curls like the route is embedded in my muscles. I part her lips, sliding a finger through her wet folds and drawing circles on her clit until her breaths leave her in beautiful little hitches.
I could play with her for hours, but the promise of her taste is sweet on my tongue, and I want her awake, want to hear her moan my name because she knows it’s me and only me who can bring her pleasure like this.
I lower myself under the sheets and breathe her in, nuzzling her clit with my nose, then I reach up and tweak her nipple, squeezing until her eyes flick open on a gasp.
“Roman…” Her hands scrunch the sheets, arousal flooding her gaze as she looks down to see the lazy desire in my smile.
“Morning, Firebird,” I murmur against her core before giving in to my need to bury myself in her cunt. I drink her in, raking my teeth over her clit and spearing my tongue so deep inside her, her hips lift from the bed.
I chuckle, pinning her to the bed and running the scruff on my jaw against her inner thighs. “So needy.”
She shudders and her fingers tug at my hair, the pinprick sensations hardening my already throbbing cock.
“Roman, please.”
“Nuh uh, you were going to take this away from me, so now you have to be patient and let me savor what’s mine.”
Lola’s legs hook around my shoulders. “I don’t know if you noticed but I never really got the hang of the whole patience thing. I need you inside me, Roman.”
She tries to drag me up with her heels, so I swat my hand against her bare ass and bite down on her thigh.
“Behave.” My cock is so hard it hurts but I make her wait so she knows exactly who’s in control here. That she doesn’t get to give up on us, on herself, just because she’s scared.
I nip and lick and suck on her clit until her heels dig into my shoulder blades and she cries out my name. Her release is sweet and tart on my tongue and I lap her up before running my cock through her folds, her pussy soft velvet against my hard length.
I notch myself at her entrance then lift up so I can take her mouth as I drive into her still pulsing cunt.
Her aftershocks squeeze around me, holding me hostage exactly where I’m meant to be. I drop my hand between us, tracing my fingers over where we join. “Fuck, Lola, I can feel you clenching my cock, your lips all puffy and swollen as I fuck you.”
Lola moans.
“You’re going to let me take you like this every day, aren’t you, Firebird? So I can remind you that you’re mine and this is exactly where you belong. In bed, being fucked by me.”
Lola rakes her fingers down the back of my neck. “Only if you’re mine too.”
“Always,” I vow, thrusting in deeper and making Lola’s mouth part.
I rock into her, steady and slow, each stroke rising the tension. Our gazes stay locked together as we climb higher and higher.
This woman ruins me.
She’s inked on my skin. Stained on my lips. Her heart beating in mine.
When we shatter, we shatter together.
“I love you, Firebird,” I say as we catch our breath.
“I love you too. Until my heart stops beating and then a little longer because I’m stubborn like that.”
I laugh, even though the idea of her heart stopping has mine beating erratically. I brush the terror away and focus on the now. This is just the beginning for us and if I have anything to do with it, Lola’s heart will keep beating for eternity.
I stamp a kiss on her lips and carry her to the bathroom.
The shower’s too small for the both of us but we make it work.
She’s got to get the shop ready to open up so I resist the urge to take her again pressed up against the tiles, but I can’t stop myself from littering kisses over the white ink tattoos on her side, tracing their path with my fingers until she’s trembling.
Afterwards, while Lola puts on her makeup, I duck back into the bedroom and take out the box I stowed under the bed.
The ribbon is still in place. I put the present on the bed and wait for Lola.
Her eyes lock on me, where I’m sitting with one leg bent on the bed, my shirt unbuttoned, but then her gaze drops to the box and her hands fall from where she was tying up her hair.
“You got me a present?”
“Happy Shop Opening Day.” I run my hand over the shadow on my jaw as she kneels on the bed and draws the box towards her. My chest aches and I feel like I’m ten years old asking a girl to go to the dance with me.
Lola takes the lid off the box and her hand flutters to her mouth.
“I can get you something else,” I say, suddenly doubting my gift-giving abilities.
“Don’t you dare.” Her fingers tremble as she reaches into the box and lifts out the faded blue whale. She strokes the well-worn soft toy, tears glistening in her eyes. “How did you even…”
“I found him in the bin. You loved Spout. I wasn’t about to let you throw him away. He’s been living in my reading nook for the last six years.”
Lola strokes her thumb over Spout’s nose.
“I can’t believe you kept him this whole time.
” She sniffs and squeezes the whale to her chest before launching into me, wrapping her arms around my neck.
When she draws back her eyes find mine and she cups my face in her palm.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Light plays inside of me as I hum. “You know I’m not sure you have, you better show me instead.”
Lola grins as she straddles my lap and kisses me.
She rocks against my hardening cock and I groan. My hands slip under her shirt of their own accord, seeking out her smooth skin and teasing at the edge of her bra.
A loud knock raps against the door. “Hey, Lola, stop banging your boyfriend and get your ass down here. I may have a god given gift for barista-ing but the whole apple fries malarky is your brainchild, so get to it.” There’s a pause before Skyler adds, “I may also be low-key terrified of the deep fryer.”
Lola snorts a laugh and I grin at her as she rests her forehead against mine.
I squeeze her hip. “Go. You’ve got this. I’ll be down in a minute, and you can put me to work.”
“Ooh, I like that sound of that.” Lola smirks then yelps when I swat her ass.
She presses one last kiss to the corner of my lips, and I deserve a fucking medal for letting her go and not pinning her to my lap like this forever. But my girl has big dreams and I’m here for it.
I make the bed and put Spout pride of place on Lola’s pillow. I’m just about to head downstairs when Lola calls up to me. “Uh, Roman.” The panic in her voice has me yanking open the door.
Anxious eyes stare up at me from the bottom of the stairs. “Your dad’s here.”
I curse under my breath and storm down into the shop. Sure enough, my father is standing out on the street, dressed in one of his fancy ass suits and scrolling through his phone.
“I’ll go get rid of him,” I growl, fury at what he did to Lola ratcheting through me.
Lola’s fingers touch mine. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No.” I don’t want Lola anywhere near my father. I turn and press a kiss to her forehead. “Stay here, I’ll deal with him, you just focus on your shop, you hear me?”
Fiery eyes narrow. “You’ll tell him I said he can shove his blackmail up his posh ass?”
I smirk, the rough edges of my anger smoothing over. “I’ll tell him.”
She squeezes my hand. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I shake my head as I leave the shop. It’s crazy how easy those words come and yet I don’t think my father’s ever told me he loves me.
The door dings as I open it, then clicks shut behind me. There’s been a slight break in the summer heat and the cool morning air pricks at my skin.
It’s weird seeing my dad here on Main Street. Growing up I had two lives, the time I spent at boarding school and the holidays here in Pine Rock. My parents didn’t feature heavily in either life, but they never came here.
For those short breaks I could pretend that the Fords were my real family and having Richard Banks standing across from me on the cobbled street is like a knife to the glass, shattering the mirage.
“You need to leave,” I say and he finally looks up from his phone.
He slips the mobile into his pocket and eyes the newly installed shop windows. “I heard you had some trouble.”