as though it’s my first time. I’ll be the first to admit it doesn’t look great, but everything is slowly coming together.
My brows pull down when I bypass the open bathroom door and realize he isn’t in there. I hear something in my room, and my heart rate skyrockets. Swallowing down the sudden thickness in my throat, I push into my bedroom, finding Rome’s large, formidable body, hovering in the space. Having him in here, looking at all my stuff is strange. My bed is merely a few feet away from us. It does strange things to my heart—to my core. Things that shouldn’t be happening.
“What are you doing in here?” I croak out. Embarrassment crawls up my neck and stains my cheeks, so I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure.
He doesn’t turn or pay any mind to my question. He just continues snooping around my space. His gaze lingers on my made bed, and for some reason, my stomach flips, somersaulting. It feels like I’m free-falling, and I hate it. Rome shifts from my bed to the window that looks into his bedroom.
He pauses in front of my makeshift reading nook in front of the window. The same place I rubbed one out to him undressing the other night and stroking his cock. Even though I promised myself I’d never do it again, I lied, because I did, in fact, do it again. It was like my body had a mind of its own, when it came to seeing Roman in the nude.
I break into a sweat. It’s nonsensical. I was in the dark, and he couldn’t see me. There’s no way he knew what I was doing. But then, why is he standing here, staring so hard?
Can he smell me?
I sniff the air discreetly, remaining silent.
Oh, Christ, pull yourself together. He’s not a damn dog.
“Interesting view,” he comments, and the heart rate, that I’d just calmed some, spikes.
So that’s what he was looking at.
The view from my reading nook in my room has the perfect line of sight into his bedroom. And since it seems his windows and curtains are always open, I constantly have a front row view of him at all times.
“I like to read there. It’s comfy.” My voice is scratchy. Raw even.
Why the hell do I sound like that?
I hope like hell he doesn’t notice.
“Amongst other things, I presume.” He says it so low, I think I’m imagining things, but when he turns back to face me, I know I didn’t. His eyes are filled with heat. It’s like staring into pools of molten lava, threatening to turn me into ash and tar with just one touch. For some reason, my heart is racing, and it feels like someone is playing the steel drums in my chest. My breathing is labored, as if I’ve just run a marathon, and my body…God, I’m trembling. I can smell him everywhere in here. Rome has such a distinct scent; it drives me absolutely nuts.
It’s the perfect combination of musk and something tantalizing. I want to bottle it up and steal it for safekeeping. As we stand here, only a few feet apart, I’m surprised by the sexual tension in the air. It’s arcing between us, clogging the air, making it hard for me to breathe. I try to look anywhere but at him, but that proves impossible. Roman’s face is far too masculine to be beautiful, but somehow, he is anyway. An incredible magnetism surrounds him. The way his gaze bores into me makes me want to delve deep into him and figure out all there is to know about the man next door.
The corner of his mouth suddenly inches up, and the effects of it hit me straight in the core. He takes a step into me, his eyes glittering with abhorrence. “I’ve heard some interesting stories today. I particularly enjoyed the arm kissing one. Absolutely fascinating stuff, babe.”
My stomach dips at the use of the word “babe.” Frustration and wonderment spear me in the chest. It’s a dichotomy of sensations. I narrow my gaze, my lips pinching together in annoyance.
“I hate you.”
Roman laughs. The sound is husky, and it rolls through my body in waves. He leans in, and my body goes still, startled by his proximity. With his lips resting so close to my ear, I can feel the heat of his words race down my spine.