storm, but I don’t turn. I simply stand still and let the hot tears score my cheeks. “Please get inside the car. I’m sorry.” But that’s the thing; he has nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry for ever believing in fairy tales.
I step forward, lowering my chin and allowing the rain to batter against me. I’ve never felt this way before. This ache, this heaviness in my heart...is this what a broken heart feels like? I can’t stand it, nor can I stand here any longer. I’ve embarrassed myself long enough.
Before I can act, though, I feel Roman before he speaks. The warmth from this body instantly thaws out my chill, but I scold myself. This needs to stop.
“Lola…” His breath bathes the back of my neck, indicating he’s standing close. “Please, turn around and look at me.”
The desperation in his voice has me hesitating for a mere second, but that second feels like a lifetime. I would rather cut off my own arm than hear him so miserable ever again. I turn slowly, my chin still downturned, unable to face him.
With the gentlest of touches, Roman places a quivering finger beneath my chin, coaxing me to meet his eyes. When I do, a gasp escapes me because the look reflected in those depths takes my breath away.
Heavy raindrops coat his cheeks, but I’m mesmerized by a single one as it trickles down his temple, over his chiseled cheek, and into his parted, full lips. An urge to lick that raindrop overcomes me, and I grapple with the momentous revelation of wanting to act on that desire.
Roman watches me watching him, and a low hum of approval fills the space between us. The finger under my chin suddenly strokes over my jaw before leaving a hot trail in its wake as he skims it over my trembling bottom lip.
He watches with fire behind his eyes as his finger skates along my ripened flesh. “I’m helping to save you because…you’re someone worth saving.” The rain pelts down, and we’re both soaking wet, but nothing has been more perfect than it is right now.
Roman’s confession leaves me speechless, and I part my lips, wanting to say something, but what would I say? We’re caught in a deadlock, both knowing that what happens next has the potency to explode.
Roman doesn’t let me speak. He runs his finger along my bottom lip one last time, the electricity thrumming through his touch, awakening a molten verve within. I’m terrified but excited all in the same breath, and that breath is stolen from me as Roman swoops forward and replaces his touch with his lips.
At first, I pause, my mind needing a moment to process this miracle as real. This isn’t an event my amorous brain conjured up; this is really happening. The softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch is actually happening, and it’s happening to me.
With that as my driver, I open my mouth and allow my body to take over. I surrender, giving all I am to Roman because I am his. And take he does. He wraps his arms around my middle and kisses me with such passion, I see stars. He’s everywhere, his gentle touch setting every part of me on fire.
He’s dominating my mouth, my body, his tongue cautiously but assertively demanding permission, which I grant as I open myself up to him and get lost in the whirlwind that is Roman Archibald.
He places his palm to my cheek, angling my face so he can govern me and deepen the kiss. Our tongues meet, the warm wetness sending every nerve ending into overdrive. He tightens his hold around my waist, pulling me into him so we’re pressed chest to chest. I can feel his heart beating frantically, a frenetic butterfly flapping its wings, demanding to break free from its cage.
He nips my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from me, but it does something to us both, and Roman lets down his guard. He swiftly walks me backward, slamming me up against the hood, our lips never missing a beat. I stand on tippy toes, unable to get enough of him, needing to touch and taste every part of him.
With sheer strength, he lifts me up and my ass crashes onto the hood as he places me on it, sensing my dilemma. The height difference is no longer an issue, and I wrap my arms around his neck, never intending to let go.