place my hand over his that’s resting on the gearshift. “This is going to happen for you, Rome. For both of you.”
He casts a quick glance my way. It’s short-lived but filled with everything he’s unable to put into words.
When we get back to his place, I linger, unsure if I should head home, stick around with him, or wait for him to ask me to stay. He’s leaning against the car, those thick arms crossed over his broad chest, as he watches me, making me uncomfortable with the weight and intensity of his gaze.
“I should probably head home now,” I offer weakly.
When Roman doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at me, I turn on my heels and force myself to walk away. Warmth suddenly encloses around my arm, and I’m pulled back into the hard planes of his body.
“Stay.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. “You’re probably tired.”
“I could be running on no sleep for days at a time, and I’d still find a way inside you, Oliva.”
I whimper.
Turning in his arms, I feel Roman’s hands slide around my waist, tugging me flush against him. His heat envelops me. His intoxicating scent is a drug. My nipples pebble against my top in anticipation, and he growls, almost as though he can feel it.
With an animalistic need I’ve never felt before, Rome digs his fingers into my hair and drags my mouth up to his. He takes my lips savagely, leaving me boneless. I fall into him. My lips and body surrender to him.
He works my lips with finesse, his tongue stroking mine so seductively that I feel the effects of it shoot straight down to my core. I can’t get enough of his mouth. The way he tastes, the deep lashes of his tongue. He is unrestrained, but oh, so skilled. There is knowledge in the way he handles me, experience that promises pleasure too heady to resist.
We break apart from each other, both of us heaving for much-needed breath. “I don’t know if I hate how good you are at this, or if I love it.”
His hands trail down my ass, and he lifts. My ankles wrap around him, and before I can inhale another breath, his lips are on mine again. We stumble inside his house, crashing into the walls of the hallway, tumbling onto his bed, all limbs and lips. With frantic hands, I grapple at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. With the lights on, I get a full glimpse of his body, and a moan reverberates in my chest. I run my hands down the ridges of his abs. He’s perfect, absolutely perfect.
For every article of clothing he sheds, he helps me do the same. I’m so caught up in him and what his touch is doing to my body, I don’t notice him freeze when he rips my shirt and bra off.
“What’s this from?” The pad of his finger lightly traces the ugly scar along my sternum. My hands fly to my chest, trying to cover it, before he can get a better look, but he grips my hand in his, stopping me.
I don’t know how I forgot about this. Hell, I don’t know how he’s just noticing it now. Maybe because the lights are on, maybe because this is the first time we’re taking our time with each other, exploring our bodies while fully naked. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I glance away, avoiding his probing gaze.
There’s no way I can talk myself out of this or ignore him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it, to come clean about everything, but a startled gasp flies out, instead, when he touches me. With a caress that’s so gentle and soft, so unlike him, he traces it. He runs his finger over the scar, and the effects of his touch, of his hands on me, even if it’s just one finger, have my heart pounding. My blood is rushing through my body, roaring through my ears.
For some unknown reason, tears spring to my eyes.
“Why are you hiding, Olivia?”
Because I like you.
Because if you knew the truth, you’d run. Just like everyone else.
Because I want you to want me.
I don’t say any of those things, though.
“Because the scar is ugly.”
“Embrace your scars. They’re what make you beautiful. They’re what tell your story. And this one?” He leans into me, dipping his head down to rub his lips across the scar. “Is no different.”
I’m speechless, as this