by Aly Martinez
Surprise registered on his face as he dodged my second scrambled blow. “Then help me get her away from him!” he implored. “I’m here to help you, Clare. I swear on my life I would never let anything happen to her. Or you. Just open the fucking gate and get in my goddamn car.” Anguish filled his voice, but again, even through my fury, I knew he was being honest.
But Walt had held that same truth in his eyes once, and look where that had gotten me.
His hand was still wrapped in the front of my shirt, and even with the adrenaline fueling me, I was no match for him, so I drew in a breath and used the only resource I possessed.
It was wrong, and it felt filthy to utilize it on what seemed like a decent man, but much like the rest of my life, I was out of options. Opening my mouth, I screamed Walt’s name at the top of my lungs.
His eyes grew wide as he started shaking his head. “No!” he growled. Then his anger morphed into pleas. “Come with me. Please.” His eyes flashed to the door behind me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I waited for my dark knight to appear, swoop me off my feet, and carry me back to the dungeons of Hell.
“Clare, please,” he said, digging into his back pocket and retrieving his wallet. Without releasing me, he flipped it open and shoved it in my face. “This is my wife. Look at her!”
It took a second for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to see anything else ever again.
Tessa’s eyes.
Tessa’s nose.
Tessa’s hair.
Tessa’s smile.
“No,” I breathed.
With the exception of my eyes, I’d always thought Tessa looked like me. But, with one glance at that woman, I realized just how wrong I’d been.
“Her name’s Elisabeth, and she’s a good woman. I scared you. I’m sorry. But please hear me when I say I can help you. And if you don’t believe me, fine. Give me the DNA. Get the police involved. They can help you. I’m not here to take her away from you. I’m here to get you both someplace safe.”
I couldn’t have answered if I’d tried.
But I never even got the chance.
“Fuck!” Roman barked, letting me go and then hauling ass back to his car.
Walter must have finally shown up to save me—from a man who was actually trying to save me.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No!
Chapter Fourteen
Elisabeth
I spent the day finding things to do in order to keep my mind off…well, my life.
I returned phone calls from clients who had zero intention of actually buying a house. Replied to emails from other clients who were concerned about why their overpriced, smelly house had been on the market for over twenty-four hours. And then I had lunch with Jon where I had the unfortunate task of informing him that Roman was back in my life. At least temporarily.
He smiled. Lied and said he was happy for me. I felt like a total heel. After a quick hug in front of a sandwich shop, I watched a good friend walk away for what I hoped wouldn’t be the last time.
Roman was in a mood when he got home. Unfortunately, so was I, considering my house was not his home and he had used a key, which I had not given him, to get in the front door. He’d at least had the good manners to toss it in the key basket when he’d slammed the door behind himself. I made a mental note to remove it from his key ring before kicking him out.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, rising off the couch as he marched to the back door to let a tap-dancing Loretta outside.
It should be said that she was not the best guard dog.
“Change of plans. I’ll have Seth deliver dinner again. Figure out what you want. I need a shower,” he said before heading to the stairs.
“Um, maybe we should try that again? What are you doing here?” I asked his back while following him up.
“Anything but Chinese and I’ll be cool.”
“Roman,” I called. I was hot on his heels as he walked past my bedroom door and yanked the door to the hall closet open.
“Actually, I could do a good burger.”
“Roman!” I finally yelled when it was clear he had no intentions of answering my question.
He lifted his gaze to mine and said, “What?”
“What?” I repeated, dumbfounded.
“Yeah. What, Lis? You got something to say? Let’s hear it, because right now, I need a shower, a beer, and, if it’s good with you, a fucking burger.”
Roman was officially off his rocker, so I gave it to him gently. Which meant I only used minimal sarcasm when I gave it to him.
“Okay. Well, then you better hurry home and get on that.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He bent down to the bottom of the closet and retrieved a gym bag that was busting at the seams.
He’s leaving. Praise the Lord!
He squeezed my hip as he walked past me…
Directly.
Into.
My.
Room.
“What are you doing?” I asked a little louder than I had planned, but it was still below a shriek, so I chalked it up as a huge demonstration of self-restraint.
He tossed the bag into the corner by the bed, and it slid across the hardwood until coming to rest against the wall. “Jesus Christ, Lis. We just discussed this.”
“No. What we discussed was you going home to your house, taking a shower, drinking a beer, and ordering a burger. I’m not sure why I’d have to agree to said burger seeing as how I won’t be eating dinner with you. But, if you need that approval, you got it!”
His eyes narrowed and the muscles in his sexy, sexy jaw began to tick as he ground out, “I know you heard me say I was checking back in last night.”
I threw my arms out to my sides. “Still not a hotel!”
He sucked in a hard breath, his chest expanding, and just like his jaw, it was sexy squared. “I had a shit day, Lis,” he warned, scrubbing a hand over his smooth chin. “I’m not coming home to more shit. So check your attitude before I check it for you.”
My mouth fell open as I gasped. “You did not just threaten me.”
“For fuck’s sake,” was all he said before he was on the move.
And, as it seemed he only had one speed when he was pissed, he did it fast.
One of his hands went to my ass, the other into the back of my hair, and he had me pinned against the wall beside the door before I could even protest.
My body heated from head to toe as his fingers in my hair curled into a fist like he had done so many other times over the last twenty-four hours.
It was clear I needed to either shave my head or find a way to amputate his arms, because the sparks that fired off inside me had become progressively more intense each time. I feared I’d spontaneously combust if there was a next time.
“Roman,” I breathed, though I should have been fighting against him.
Coulda. Shoulda. Woulda.
“I’m not fucking leaving. There is a shitstorm brewing around us, and I’m gonna take care of it. But, in that, I’m gonna take care of you, too. You gotta trust me on that, Lis. I fucked up in the past. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I wasn’t. I’ll explain that to you later. But do not for one second think that you are going to melt for me the way you did yesterday, again last night, and then again this morning after two fucking years and then you’re gonna take it away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feigning innocence, though I knew exactly what he was talking about. I had melted for him. I just wasn’t ready to acknowledge it. Not even to myself, and certainly not to him.
He twisted his lips. Then he proved his point by using my ass to grind me against his thickening length, which drew a moan from my throat.
“You feel it between us,” he declared.
“Roman, you’re very well…um…endowed
,” I informed in a sugary-sweet tone before finishing with a snap. “Of course I fucking feel it.” It was a last-ditch effort to keep from falling under his spell.
It failed.
He grinned arrogantly and gave my ass a squeeze.
I moaned, and this time, I ground into him.
He dropped his elbow to the wall. “Christ, Lis.”
That small victory allowed me to take some of the power back. I couldn’t lie: I wanted Roman. I’d been physically and mentally strung out all afternoon as I’d sat on the couch, waiting for him to come back while equally hoping he didn’t.
But the fact remained. He did come back. And, now, he had me pinned against the wall, only two layers of clothes separating me from what I knew would be an incredible night of ecstasy. And, through all of this, he hadn’t kissed me yet.
And I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Fine. If we’re gonna do this, we’re doing it my way. One night. You leave when we’re done.”
“Done?” He laughed. And not just a chuckle. I’m talking an all out belly laugh like I’d taken up a side gig as a stand-up comedienne.
“I’m serious,” I defended.
“You’re a lot of things. But serious is not one of them. I get inside you, I’ll have my ring back on your finger by tomorrow night.”
Oh, hell no! We are not going back down that road.
I gave him a hard shove. “You will not. Don’t even think about it. That is not what this is about.”
He smirked. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not proposing.”
That mildly relaxed me.
Well, until his lips descended upon mine and he said, “But you’ll still say yes,” a half second before taking my mouth.
Oh God.
Yes.
Without hesitation, I opened like the desperate woman I was, welcoming him home. His tongue greedily swirled with mine, and I circled my arms around his neck, taking him deeper, my nipples tingling as they met his chest.
After releasing my hair, he moved his hand down to the other side of my ass and lifted me off the floor. I took the cue and wrapped my legs around his waist. My dress gave way and his straining hard-on made contact with my lace-covered core, forcing a cry from my lips.
It had been too long.
Too long without him.
Too long since I’d reached for the toy tucked into the back of my bedside table.
Too long since I’d dropped my finger between my legs in the shower.
Part of that was because it paled in comparison to the real thing.
The other part being that I couldn’t close my eyes without imagining it was him.
No matter how much I’d told myself to let him go, he was always in the forefront of my mind.
But there he was, in the flesh, carrying me to a bed that had once been ours, and I was ready to let him take me in any and every way he wanted.
He set me on the edge of the mattress and then followed me down. His hands landed on either side of my head, his mouth still moving with a practiced ease over mine.
I kept my legs around his hips, locking my feet at the ankle and using them as leverage to circle myself against him.
“Fuck, baby,” he grumbled into my mouth.
I made fast work of peeling his shirt over his head then sat up off the bed long enough for him to tug the zipper at the back of my dress down. He didn’t delay in pulling it over my head.
As much as I’d lied to myself about what was going to happen if he showed back up tonight, deep down, I’d known. And it was that knowledge that left me sitting in front of him in only a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra that were not only beautiful, but the pattern was so wide that it was damn near invisible. Everything from my nipples to my slit was on display.
With an approving rumble, he raked his eyes over me. Licking his lips, he pushed me back flat and sank to his knees between my legs, which were hanging over the side of the bed.
“Repeat after me,” he ordered, gliding his hands up my chest, gripping both of my breasts, and then smoothing his palms back down my stomach.
I moaned, arching off the bed while seductively sliding my bare foot up his side.
“This is not one night. You will not shut down on me. I get you’re scared. We’ll figure out that part later. After I make you come, fast and hard against my mouth. After I shower. After I drink a beer. After my burger. But before I fuck you.”
Drunk on the promise of feeling him between my legs, I would have agreed to anything, but something he’d said required discussion.
Brazenly, I sat up and threaded a hand into the top of his hair, using it to pull him back to my mouth for a toe-curling kiss. When I released his mouth, I corrected him. “After you fuck me.”
“No,” he replied firmly.
I had no choice but to move my assault farther south. Dragging my tongue down the corded muscles of his neck, I pushed my argument. “We’ll talk after, Roman.”
His hand moved into the back of my hair again, and it wasn’t helping his case in the least. My entire nervous system lit up like the New York City power grid.
And then the most incredible thing happened.
For the first time since he’d come back into my life, Roman Leblanc didn’t argue.
“Okay. After,” he rumbled, thrusting a hand into my panties then pressing a single finger inside me.
“Yes,” I panted against his shoulder while spreading my legs wider.
“Take off your bra, baby,” he ordered, giving my hair a gentle pull and adding another finger.
“Oh God,” I cried at the beautiful bite at my scalp.
“Off,” he repeated, guiding my mouth back to his.
As his tongue stroked mine, I obeyed and unclasped the back of my bra, allowing it to fall from my arms.
I groaned in remorse when his hand left my hair, but then I groaned for a different reason as it landed on my breast. I rolled my shoulders back to encourage him to take more. I didn’t have the biggest breasts, and truth be told, they’d been fuller when we’d first met, but his large hand more than covered all of me. Yet, if there was even a millimeter he wasn’t touching, I wanted him to find it.
His hand disappeared from between my legs at the same time he released my mouth and roughly pushed me to the bed. I went down easily, knowing what was next: Roman’s order of operation.
First, he stripped my panties down my legs.
Second, he stripped his jeans down his legs and palmed his heavy cock as he stepped out of them.
Third, my personal favorite part, he dropped to his knees and sealed his hungry mouth over my clit.
A strangled cry escaped my lips, the pressure climbing high within me.
Fourth, one arm snaked up my chest, gripping my breast and sending the perfect balance of pain and pleasure searing through me.
And, lastly, when I was perilously close to falling over the edge, he thrust two fingers deep, coaxing the orgasm from the inside.
“Roman!” I moaned, fisting his hair as I rode my release out against his mouth.
When I stopped pulsing around his fingers, he lifted his head and rose to his feet.
“Back up,” he ordered, prowling toward me, his hand glistening with my release as it pumped his cock.
Still in a post-orgasm high, I sluggishly shimmied up the bed, dropping my legs open as he followed me up on his knees.
Using my thighs, he stopped my ascent and dragged me back toward him. “Far enough.”
“Condom,” I breathed as he hovered over me.
His response was fast and final. “No.”
“But—” I started.
He cut me off. “I’m not using a fucking condom with my wife.”
“I’m not—”
“I swear to God, Elisabeth. Do not fucking finish that sentence.”
And then the most incredible thing happened.
For the first time since Roman Leblanc had come back into my life, I didn’t argue.
&
nbsp; “I’m clean,” I whispered.
“I know you are, baby, and so am I, okay?” he said, positioning himself at my opening.
“Okay.” My eyes fluttered closed with anticipation.
And then he drove in with a gentle dominance that spurred orgasm number two to mercilessly rear up. The feeling of finally being full again overwhelmed me. My body shook as I fought a second release back. I wanted to ride it out with him, but emotions were scrambling my resolve, leaving me unable to hold back.
“Roman,” I whispered, a single tear escaping the corner of my eye.
All at once, his arms slid under me and lifted me so he was on his knees, our chests smashed together, and my face tucked into his neck. “Shhh. Stay with me.”
I folded my legs around his back while he used his upper-body strength to lift me up and down, setting a relentless rhythm that would have us both finishing in seconds rather than minutes.
I finally lost the battle and came as he speared into me, his arms squeezing me painfully tight. His speed increased, and then he planted himself to the hilt, groaning, “Lis,” as he emptied inside me.
I clung to his shoulders as he lowered me back down to the mattress, our connection remaining until he shifted to my side. He was still holding me, but the loss was staggering.
He gathered me in his arms, tucked my face back into his neck, and brushed the hair off my neck.
We sat in silence for somewhere between a second and a century, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my shoulder, before I finally found the courage to confess, “I miss you.”
He sighed. “You have no idea.”
My heart wrenched, and I couldn’t keep the ache from my voice as I asked, “What happened to us?”
His arms spasmed around me, and then he kissed me hard on the top of my head, letting it linger for so long that I wasn’t sure he was going to reply.
But, when he finally did, I still wasn’t ready for the answer.
“Do you remember the lamb gyro?”
I stopped breathing, and he must have taken that as confirmation.
“Well, this time, I really fucked up. I actually lost you, and now, I’m lying here, praying that you’ll let me fix it. Otherwise, I’m gonna look like a real ass when I propose tomorrow night and you say no.”
