by Cassie Leigh
He set her down just long enough to unlock her door and then lifted her again. She giggled and he smiled down at her. “Straight face, beautiful. Dress rehearsal for your future role as Mrs. Bishop.”
CHAPTER 10
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GIGI STARED AT THE GLASS of water and two aspirin waiting for her on the nightstand. A vague memory of strong hands and a deep voice coaxing her to drink a similar glass of water teased at the hazy edges of last night. She sat up gingerly and reached for the glass in hopes of rinsing the cottony nastiness from her mouth. This could have been so much worse. In fact, it should have been. She didn’t even remember how she’d gotten home last night.
She shuffled to the bathroom to refill the glass. More water—that’s what she needed if she wanted to keep dodging this hangover. She jammed a toothbrush in her nasty mouth, and then she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. Holy hot mess. She still had on last night’s dress and her mascara had run, leaving her eyes a smeared black smudge, like some kind of drunken bandit. Bonnie without her Clyde came to mind, considering the wannabe flapper dress. Her hair had turned into a tangled and wild mess. It would not have surprised her to find a fucking squirrel hidden in there.
Roman must be so disappointed in her right now—oh God—Roman. That’s how she’d gotten home. What had she been thinking getting drunk like that? Instead of drowning herself in a pity party for one, she could have been having hot sex with the first man to tempt her into more than a casual fling. Whatever was happening between them was not going to be over after one night and for the first time, the idea appealed to her.
That also messed with her head.
Now she had to worry if he still wanted her AND face the wrath of Ann— because there was no way Ann didn’t know after the possessive way Roman was touching Gigi when Ann found them at the party. She might even have to go back to hunting for a job on Monday. With the way she’d acted, Gigi wasn’t ruling it out.
Disgusted with herself, she scrubbed the offending makeup off her face, replaced it with the weekend minimum of fresh foundation and lip-gloss, and then took care of the usual morning necessities. She padded back out into the bedroom ready to shed the dress for something more comfortable for her pity party. She made it as far as the dresser when the heavenly smell of bacon assaulted her senses.
She scrunched up her nose in confusion. “What is that?” Her stomach rumbled, impatient for the savory aroma wafting in from her kitchen.
Abandoning her quest for yoga pants, she poked her head out of the bedroom door. The stack of French toast cooling on her kitchen island caught her eye first and then Roman, half-naked flipping bacon in the skillet. Holy shit. Talk about taking your life into your own hands—grease burn anyone? Her gaze moved over the hard planes of his body, catching on the way his jeans hung low on his hips, giving her just a hint of the fine ass it contained.
Splatter bacon splatter. She totally planned to kiss any resulting burns to make them better. In fact, she should prove just how medicinal her tongue action could be. Or not. He was probably pissed about her behavior last night.
“Good morning.” God, she hated that her voice betrayed her as shy and fucking meek. That wasn’t her. Confident and brazen—that’s how her voice should have come out. Instead the fear of losing him undermined her hard-won confidence.
Roman spun around and revealed the ridiculous frilly apron he’d dug out of her drawer to protect his skin. She was both disappointed and turned on. Pink floral and aqua polka dots never looked so sexy. He hadn’t bothered to tie the back or she might have noticed it. Now she was going to get all hot and bothered every time she unearthed it to bake. There were worse problems to have.
He snaked one arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard body for a gentle kiss. “How’s your head this morning, beautiful?”
Such a simple loving action. No judgement, no harsh words. He made her breakfast and asked how she felt. Fuck—she had to choke back tears.
“I’m fine.” Her voice shook as she said it.
He looked at her with a slight frown. “Are you sure about that? Did you take the pills I set out for you?” She nodded weakly, and he continued. “Good. Grab a cup of coffee and have a seat while I make you a plate. How do you like your bacon?”
“Extra crispy,” she mumbled.
Roman chuckled. “Good, because that’s how I made it.”
She had to be caught in a dream or some kind of altered reality brought on by that fairy drink he’d given her last night. Still, she wasn’t about to argue. When she finished fixing her coffee, a plate sat waiting for her.
Stewing over her expectations and this new reality with Roman, Gigi poked at the scrambled eggs, pushing them around the plate. “I can’t believe you did all this. I thought for sure you’d be gone this morning or at least angry at me.”
Roman leaned back against the counter. He’d lost the apron and stood feet crossed at the ankle, nibbling like a mouse on a strip of bacon. “I see two problems with what you just said.” He held up his fingers counting them off. “One, what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t take care of my hungover girlfriend properly? For the record that does include aspirin and bacon.”
“Don’t forget French toast,” Gigi mumbled as she swiped her finger through an errant drip of syrup.
“With a girlfriend named Gigi, it seemed like the natural choice.”
Her hand stilled, hovering over her plate. “I’m your girlfriend?” Her heart fluttered wildly as she whispered the question. He said it twice. The first time she just thought he slipped. The second time seemed more deliberate.
He raised an eyebrow and ignored her question. “Two, why the fuck would I be mad at you?” He came around the edge of the counter, dropping the bacon on her plate as he turned the stool she perched on to face him; their noses almost touched. “Sometimes life leaves you no option but to numb the pain. If I had been paying attention, I could have done that for you without the alcohol. You went for the next best substitute. Although next time I suggest you use me instead.”
His fingers curled around her wrist, as he drew her fingers up to his mouth. One at a time, he took each slender digit into his mouth, sucking the sugary liquid off as his eyes locked with hers. It was the single sexiest thing anyone had ever done to her that didn’t involve actual sex. Damn.
Gigi wanted to pay attention to those words. She should be asking what he knew about why she’d been drinking. She just couldn’t think past the building pressure between her thighs.
Roman leaned forward so that his lips grazed her ear. “We could talk about this or I could show you just how distracting I can be.”
He took her earlobe between his teeth, teasing it with a gentle suck that stole an involuntary groan from her lips that sounded suspiciously like “please”. Her skin burned wherever he touched her, aching to have him brand her body with his heat.
“And you’re definitely my girlfriend.” His voice was a low growl, staking his claim in a visceral way that should have bothered her.
Had Roman been any other man it would have sent her running. With him she wanted to be claimed and that too should have worried her—but god help her she wanted it. She wanted him to take her right here, bent over this counter. His lips teasing her neck had her panting for it.
She needed to get her head back in this game and remember herself. She needed control.
Yes, she started last night planning to have him, but her plans had been shattered. Last night had been her choice. This morning, this was something she hadn’t planned, even if she was still wearing the pink lace set she’d purchased just for him. So much of their time together had been unplanned as she succumbed to the irresistible need that she felt her body caving to now. Maybe if she took over—took the lead away from him—she could have her man and enjoy it too.
Bracing her hand against his chest, Gigi gave a gentle push and broke the trail of kisses Roman had continued to use like a weapon ag
ainst her restraint. She slid from the stool and he looked down at her, eyes cloudy with lust and confusion.
Gigi hooked her finger in the belt loop of his jeans. Using her hold like a leash, she pulled him towards her room. “Bedroom,” she whispered, tempering that single word into a seductive promise.
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As the back of his knees hit her raised mattress, Roman stewed over the change in Gigi that had swept over her during their breakfast conversation. She’d come out of this room looking wary of him and a little bit sad. Now, she’d turned back into the self-assured seductress that seemed more like a defensive front, rather than the real woman beneath. That changeable nature made him question whether he should be standing in her bedroom at all. At the same time, it was those very glimpses—brief as they were—that told him she would be worth it. That she was nothing like Jessica.
Those green eyes, they were his guiding light. Leading him past the façade she wanted others to see. For the public, she projected a sweet-tempered professional. In private, she allowed a select few to see her as a sexpot. Both those masks were a part of her, along with countless others he’d likely encounter along the way. Occasionally with him, she’d let them all slip away. In the kitchen, she’d been real. She’d been exposed. Undone by him simply calling her his girlfriend. He was falling for that woman.
Gigi gave him a small push that sent him crashing backwards into the mess of her unmade bed—the bed he’d tucked her into in the dark hours of the morning to sleep off her pain. The flick of his button popping open and the rasp of his zipper filled the silence. He reached down to still her hand. “Stop, beautiful.” His voice was horse with his strained control.
She looked up at him through her thick lashes, her green eyes filled with that vulnerability—his weakness—as she knelt on the floor in front of him. “Please, Roman. You’ve taken such good care of me. Why don’t you want me to take care of you?”
What was it that held him back? Because she was right. Since they’d started this dance that first night in his shop, he hadn’t allowed her to return any of the pleasure he’d given her. He’d held that piece of himself back while trying desperately to chip away the layers of her resistance—digging for the woman underneath. Now here they were, in her bedroom about to make love, and he was still limiting her access to him.
Roman released her hands, moving them to cup her face and caress the rising heat in her flushed cheeks with his callused thumbs. He had to pull the trigger—trust her or walk away.
CHAPTER 11
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GIGI STARED, TRANSFIXED BY THE quiet war in Roman’s eyes. They swirled with his inner turmoil, like whiskey in a highball. Someone hurt him—if she had to guess, it was someone who treated sex as cavalierly as she often did. Why hadn’t she known that?
Alarm bells flared to life in her heart. Her conscience—a fickle bitch she’d forgotten still resided inside her—whispered that she should end this before she broke them both.
Then he caressed her cheeks, his rough skin contrasting the softness of his touch. “I’m all yours, beautiful.”
Fuck—the things it did to her heart when Roman called her that. For others she’d been princess, baby, or even dirty girl. No man before him had ever called her beautiful. She’d never needed to hear it, not until he’d said that one word. Now she craved it like a drug.
Roman saw her—saw past all the barriers she’d flung up around her heart. Would he still trust her so much if he knew what she’d done before him? He’d only seen a small glimpse. For the first time she wished Roman could have been the only one—wished she hadn’t needed to fill that empty void inside herself with hollow physical experiences.
It may be selfish, but here she could pretend the past hadn’t happened. She would lay herself truly bare in a way she’d never given anyone else—fear and control be damned. After all, he was doing the same for her.
Claiming her mouth in a deep kiss that was equal parts gentle and intense, he continued caressing her face before threading his fingers in her hair as she dragged his jeans and boxers down his legs. She took his hard length in her hand and stroked his hot flesh slowly. When he released her from their kiss, his eyes flashed with lust as she stared into them, pumping his cock. She licked her lips seductively. His breath caught. With her free hand, she toyed with the trail of hair that lead to her prize. His breath caught as her nails grazed the taut muscles of his stomach.
Fisting the sheets with one hand, he leaned back, creating more space for her as she knelt between his knees. She circled the head of his cock with her tongue. When he hissed with pleasure, she flicked the flat of her tongue against the V on the underside of the head, working the sensitive spot.
“Holy shit.” Roman’s hips bucked once and then held perfectly still, his muscles straining under her touch.
Gigi licked the underside of him root to tip, slow and sure. His answering groan and the way his grip tightened in her hair spurred her on.
This man had cared for her. Taken her to bed when she was pliant and weak. He could have done anything to her while she was that drunk. She probably would have agreed to it. But he hadn’t taken advantage of her. No. He’d rewarded the trust she hadn’t known she was giving him and left her safely dressed in her bed. He’d given her medicine and made her breakfast. He’d taken nothing from her—only given her what she needed. Now she’d take good care of him.
Gigi took the tip of him in her mouth and eased down, building inch by delicious inch. He was too large to take all of him down her throat but damn if she didn’t want to at least try. He didn’t push her for more, didn’t force himself down. He let her take as much as she wanted. When she couldn’t take another inch she curled her fingers around the base of him, pumping her mouth up and down. In answer, he fucked her mouth. Each stroke down came faster than the last. His hips twitched under her, as his restraint failed—and god that made her hot.
“Beautiful—” his voice broke on a groan as she sucked him as far down as she could take him. “Gigi, I won’t last much longer if you keep doing this.”
She looked up at him through her lashes and stroked down with her mouth again.
With a warning growl, he pulled her off him. He gripped her by the arms and tossed her on the bed beside him. Her whole body shuddered in delight and a giggle bubbled up from her lips.
“What’s so funny?” He crawled up her body as he spoke, prowling like a jungle cat.
She started to answer but gasped instead when he pressed his naked body against her still clothed one, rocking against the ache in her covered pussy. She took a deep steadying breath and he stilled over her.
“I like it when you lose control a little. I like that it was because of me,” Gigi said at last, her voice a husky whisper.
His answering grin—like the cat that got the cream or was about to—made her heart stutter. “I’d like to see you lose a little of that poise, sweetness.” He rolled them and pulled her up so that she was in a sitting position across his lap. “I think it’s time I found your pink. It’s been suspiciously absent.”
Roman’s lips found her neck, first a soft kiss and then a nibble. She drew in a sharp breath and he soothed away the delicious sting with the stroke of his tongue. A surge of pleasure rocketed through her in response, making her squirm as her panties flooded with the evidence of just how hot he was making her. His deft fingers found the pull of her zipper at the back of her dress and dragged it down. The metallic rasp and her panting breath seemed to echo in her tiny apartment bedroom.
“I never thought much of pink.” Kissing her bare collarbone, he slid the shoulder of her dress down, exposing the rosy pastel lace of her bra. “But since I’ve met you it’s become my favorite color.”
He nudged the other shoulder strap down and her dress slipped across her heated skin to pool at her waist. “Is this just for me?” He palmed her aching breast through the fabric.
Gigi nodded, her words catching in her
throat. When she did finally push them out, they were little more than a breathy whisper. “Yes—I’m burning all the rest.”
Lifting her breast from the cup, Roman bent his head. First, swirling his tongue around the beaded nipple and then drawing it between his lips. He nipped her and soothed her. The repeat of his actions from her neck and shoulder on her bared breast sent a warning pulse through her pussy. If he kept this tease up, she would come before he even touched her there.
“Roman—please.” It wasn’t the first time this week he’d played with her and drawn that breathy whine from her lips.
He growled his approval around her nipple before releasing it with a soft pop. “Be patient. You’ll get what you need.”
Instead of touching her where she wanted it most, he continued where he’d last touched. This time lifting her other breast free and teasing that nipple in the exact same agonizing way. It felt so goddamned good and so goddamned infuriating at the same time. Her pussy was weeping in frustration and pleasure.
He pulled back, freeing her breast. “Do you have any more pink for me to find?” His hand slid up her thigh as he asked, caressing the edge of her sopping wet lace panties.
He was so close to where she needed him. Just a little bit more. His hand stilled, waiting for her answer. God—what was the fucking question? Color, he’d asked about the pink again. “Yes!” she moaned at last.
Rewarding her outburst, he slid one finger past the flimsy fabric barrier, stroking and then entering her pussy. It pulsed around the invasion. His free hand danced along her spine until he popped the clasp on her bra, freeing her heavy breasts. He bent his head once more taking one nipple back into his mouth as he continued the slow drag of first one finger and then a second through her, stretching her sex as he pumped in and out.
“Roman—I need more.” She hated to beg, but everything he was doing to her was on another level. She’d do more than beg if he asked it of her, but now she needed so much more. “We’ve had a week of foreplay. I need you inside of me.”
