by Joya Ryan
“She’s gone,” I sobbed. “It doesn’t get easier.”
Roman pushed the hair off my brow and continued to hold my face between his hands.
“She’s still a part of you. And living this way, with this kind of guilt, thinking only of her death instead of her life, is doing a disservice to her and her memory,” he said softly. “You need to let go of the end, sweetheart, and hold on to how she lived.”
My breaths were coming faster, the pain in my chest reaching an all-time high. No one had ever been so amazing. Paige knew and was supportive, but Roman made me believe that I just might be able to move on. Let go.
“I’ve been keeping this from you. The secret of my fault in it. I was ashamed. I don’t want it to affect your campaign—”
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he cut me off, not letting me finish my words, or the thoughts that had been plaguing me. He pulled me to his chest. I let myself get lost in the steady drum of his heartbeat. Finding a rhythm, a stillness.
It wasn’t until I had met him that I’d started to realize I was losing Lauren all over again. Only this time, it was the memories. All the good memories. Roman was stopping that, bringing back the good and fighting off the bad.
I threw my arms around him and kissed him hard.
“I don’t want to feel this way anymore,” I admitted.
“I don’t want you to either,” he murmured against my mouth, and returned my kiss. He pushed to his feet, never taking his mouth from mine, and hovered over me. I kept my arms around him and lay back on the bed.
A spark of need rushed through me, so hot and heavy I couldn’t stand it. And that need was for Roman. I needed him to be inside me, a part of me. Needed that connection. It was the only time I truly felt wanted. Felt whole and not alone in the world.
I tugged his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. He must have sensed my urgency because he returned my attentions.
He made quick work of my clothes, and when the last pieces of fabric fell away, he placed himself between my thighs and hugged me tight. Skin against skin. Every part I could reach, I touched. His hardness was like a hot brand on my lower stomach, but he held himself still and just embraced me.
His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I wove my legs around his waist. Using every ounce of strength I had, I clung to him, tighter and tighter, while tears ran down my cheeks.
“More,” I whispered. “Please, I need more of you.”
Without taking himself too far from me, he reached for his discarded pants and pulled out a condom, quickly put it on, and settled back between my legs.
“Amy,” he whispered, as he shifted his hips and positioned himself at my entrance. “You’re beautiful.” He pushed slightly, breaching me with only the crown. “You,” he emphasized, “are kind.” Another inch slid in. “You are ambitious.” And another.
He kissed the tip of my nose, and more tears ran from my eyes down my temples and into my hair. All the things that were never said to me, about me, he was saying now.
He kept his eyes on mine. “You, Amy, are amazing.”
With a final thrust, he surged home and I gasped, digging my nails into his back to keep him close. Praying he’d never move from that spot.
“I need you,” I whispered against his ear, then bit the lobe. His body tensed and I arched my hips, taking him just a bit deeper. “So much.”
He stirred himself in my depths, hitting every nerve and bringing out that amazing feeling of strength. Of trust. Of hope.
Right then, life didn’t seem so bleak. The past didn’t seem too daunting. Not with me wrapped around him and him within me. It was simple. Good. Just us. And I believed him. I’d known it the first night I’d met him, when he’d removed me from a place I didn’t belong. I’d known he was different. Just like tonight, he’d saved me. Led me to something better. Led me to him.
“I need you too,” he rasped and kissed me hard, devouring me. Consuming all I was, branding me with his kiss while he pushed and pulled at my body, demanding more. Taking me higher. Moving deeper. My body couldn’t keep up, couldn’t understand such intensity because it had never felt it before.
I splintered apart before I knew what was happening. Over and over I came, around him, with him. He clutched me tighter and I kissed him with everything I felt, everything I was sorry for, everything I was grateful for.
We shared one perfect moment of bliss when the world stopped spinning and the past and darkness fell away.
All that existed was us.
Chapter Eighteen
The short grass crunched beneath my feet as I made my way toward the single slab of concrete that brought tears to my eyes: Lauren’s headstone.
Roman’s grip on my hand tightened, and the morning air brought scents of my childhood in its breeze. An Indiana sunrise was a beautiful thing.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Roman said. With a final reassuring squeeze, he let me walk ahead to find Lauren.
“Hi, Sister,” I whispered, and set down the flowers I’d gotten her.
Kneeling, I brushed the dew and scattered blades of grass and leaves off of her stone. The edges of her name, her birthday, and her death date scratched my palms as I smoothed them over the glossy rectangle.
“I miss you,” I said. “It seems like time goes by so quickly, but then I come here, see you, and always remember how young we are.”
Tears started to fill my eyes, but with a sniffle, I held them back.
“I want to start living, Lauren. Enough for both of us.”
I ran my fingertip along the cursive letters just below her name. “Beloved,” I read. And she was.
“I love you, and I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I know I say it every year, but this time, I’m saying it for a final time.” I glanced to the sky, hoping somehow she could hear me. “Something that was said to me recently made me realize that grieving is okay, but thinking only of your death poisons your memory and takes away the goodness you left.”
A single drop escaped my lower lashes and trailed down my face. “And you left so much goodness. I’ll never let go of you, but I have to let go of the guilt…for both of us.”
Hanging my head, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. A small laugh came forth. “Do you remember the time we stayed up all night watching Pippy Longstocking, and were convinced that our kitchen floor needed to be scrubbed just like they did it in the movie?”
Another burst of laughter came out as I held the memory.
“You convinced me that Mom and Dad wouldn’t be mad, so we tied sponges to our feet and used an entire bottle of dish soap to skate across the kitchen floor.”
I shook my head, giggling the same way I had that night.
“Mom was so pissed. But damn, that was fun. You always were fearless like that.” I rested my hand against her name. “And I followed you anywhere.”
Something warm and smooth filled my chest from the inside out. Deep down, I knew it was Lauren’s presence.
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled at the man who stood several yards away.
“That’s Roman,” I said, looking down at Lauren again. “He’s amazing. I wish so much that you’d known him, and that he’d gotten to meet you. He’s made me realize things, and helped me move forward.”
A breeze blew just then, kicking up the scent of the wildflowers, and I felt Lauren with me more than at any time in the past seven years. It was as if she’d actually spoken to me.
“I love you too,” I whispered and rose to my feet.
Her spirit was too strong to be buried, and it was time I started listening to it.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I said, as I fished my keys out of my purse and unlocked my front door.
“Thank you for having me.”
I smiled and opened the door. Roman placed my suitcase right inside and stood to his full height. He stared down at me, his breath visible in the cold night air. I wanted to invite him in. Paige and Hazel were gone tonight. Ju
dging by the text messages I’d gotten this afternoon, they wouldn’t be home anytime soon. But after being shot down last time, I knew better than to ask.
Then, over Roman’s shoulder, I watched his personal driver speed off in the town car.
“Um, I think you’re being ditched,” I said, but Roman didn’t bother to look where I was pointing.
“I guess I’ll have to call a cab.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps I could stay with you.”
My gaze shot to his. “Seriously?” I asked around a huge smile.
He stepped closer, all that yummy-smelling heat surrounding me. I was so excited and surprised, I couldn’t help but mess with him a little.
Tapping my chin, I looked at the sky. “Hmm, you seem to be inviting yourself over an awful lot. Better be careful, or I may think you’re getting clingy.”
“Politicians don’t get clingy.”
“Well in that case, I’d love it if you stayed.”
He followed me inside and hung our coats by the door. I’d missed my small apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was cozy.
“Would you like some coffee or tea?” I asked over my shoulder, walking into the kitchen. Roman sat down on the couch and I rummaged through the cupboards. “Ooh, we have hot chocolate.”
“Sounds great.” He smiled.
I made the drinks quickly, brought them to the coffee table, and sat next to him. I wanted to snuggle into his amazing body and enjoy hot chocolate like there was nothing else going on in the world. However, a couple of lingering questions needed to be answered.
“Why did you change your mind?” I asked. “Last time I invited you in, you made it very clear that you weren’t interested in spending the night.”
Resting his arm over the back of the couch, he turned to face me. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“What?”
“It’s just surprising how easily the truth comes out when I’m with you. I’m not used to it.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Could be,” he said. “I always pick my words carefully, but somehow you have me blurting things out I’d typically keep to myself, or not bother to feel in the first place.”
I scooted closer, hoping that Roman’s open mood would continue. “What do you not usually feel?”
He looked hard at my face, like he couldn’t decide if he was mad, confused, or happy.
“Trust.”
It was everything I could do to keep from dancing with joy. He trusted me. Enough to admit it. Enough to stay the night when he wouldn’t before. The idea filled me with so much hope. Maybe this whole thing could have some kind of happy ending.
“You trusted me with your sister and your past.” He grinned a little, but his eyes remained serious. “Maybe you’re a good influence on me.”
Shock and happiness burst simultaneously in my body. The truth about Lauren, and how I had felt about it, was the hardest thing I’d ever admitted out loud. Especially in light of the way I felt about Roman, and how it could possibly affect his campaign. Yet he’d never once blamed me. He hadn’t even brought up his campaign or the possible ramifications of my admission. He was simply there for me. No strings. No agenda. Just support. Honest support.
“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” he said. “I don’t like being out of control or surprised in any situation. I learned quickly that if you can manipulate an event beforehand, the desired outcome is more likely. It’s key, since I don’t like others to have power over me.”
I gave him a disbelieving smile. “I have a hard time believing that anyone could ever have power over you.”
His eyes locked on me, and something very hot, very serious and heavy, surged through my veins, replacing my blood with thick anticipation.
“Not anyone,” he said. “You.”
I swallowed hard. And here I’d been thinking that Roman held all the power in this relationship. He thought I influenced him? Handing over control, giving someone else free rein with your emotions, was a big deal. I knew that, having had my own feelings stomped on before. I’d never do that to him. But now that I knew a little more about Roman Reese, his need for control and how it manifested made more and more sense. Because for so long, he’d been locked away, all of his choices taken from him.
“Is that why you have problems with your mother?” I asked carefully, hoping he would feel comfortable enough to continue talking.
His body tensed. He was on the brink of yelling, I could tell. Instead, his chest slowly drew in a breath, and he spoke in that low, gravelly tone.
“I have problems with her because she took my freedom and made fear a common, recurring emotion in my childhood. In that closet, I always felt like the walls were closing in. I didn’t know where she was, or when she’d be back. I sat there, in the dark, my stomach aching from hunger and my skin dry from dehydration, and all I thought of was her. Whether she was okay.” He snarled the last part. “And as it got worse, I watched her waste away. Watched her choose to do so instead of taking care of herself or her family. She disgusts me.”
I folded my lips together. My heart ached for him. For his mother. For his broken past.
“She’s clean now,” I offered.
“Yes, she is.” He nodded. “Fifteen years now she’s been sober. Doesn’t change what happened though, does it?”
“You didn’t deserve that.” I gripped his hand and kissed his palm. “Somewhere in her mind, even when she was crashing, I’m sure she thought she was protecting you. Locking you away from the world that was hurting her.”
“I almost starved to death, Amy,” he growled, and ripped his hand from mine. “The last time she left me, she was gone for two weeks! That final straw finally got my father’s attention. And now you sit there and defend her?”
“No!” I moved to grab his hand again, but he went to stand. This was the moment I couldn’t risk. He’d walk away, misunderstanding what I was trying to say, and all that we’d built would be ruined. He couldn’t leave. Not this time.
I quickly launched myself at him, straddling his lap and cupping his face.
“Get off me, Amy.”
“No,” I said sternly. “You need to understand something, Roman. You won’t let me hold on to the past anymore, and I won’t let you either.”
He gripped my wrists but didn’t push me away.
“In my whole life, I have never wanted to take away something so much as I want to take away what happened to you. I wish I could take away the pain. But the only thing I can do is tell you that on some level, I understand. You have a mother who made terrible mistakes, but she loves you, and I will remind you of that regularly. But no matter what, I’m always on your side.”
“And what if I hate her?”
“Holding on to hate will only drain all the light from your life.”
“How would you know? I saw you with your parents, with Warren at the fundraiser. Despite all the shit, you still put on a brave face. You couldn’t hate someone if you tried.”
“I’ve hated myself,” I whispered. “Every day since Lauren died.” His eyes softened a little. “And it’s been very dark…until I met you.”
He searched my face for a long moment, as if trying to decide if I was telling the truth.
I leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. When I went to pull back, he let go of my wrists and reached behind me, grabbing my ass and clutching me closer. Biting my bottom lip, he brought me back to his mouth and plunged his tongue inside. I moaned because with one kiss, the man had my head swimming.
“You’re the one who pinned me here,” he rasped. “You really expect me to let you back away now?”
He thrust his tongue back between my lips and dueled with mine. I rose to my knees enough to unfasten his pants. With some fancy moving and swaying, he worked my jeans off of me, then ripped my panties away.
By the time we’d clawed each other’s shirts off, I was panting his name and desperate to have him. He yan
ked my bra off and instantly latched on to my swelling nipple.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, dropping my head back and letting him suck and nibble. Diving my fingers into his hair, I pulled the silky strands.
A burst of hot, violent need shot through me. I wanted him. Hard. Rough. Until we couldn’t breathe. When I pulled his hair harder, he bit down on my breast and I cried out his name.
“Fuck, you have me going crazy,” he growled against my skin.
I rocked my hips against him. His hard cock slid along my folds, hitting my clit with every glide. I was already on the verge of coming and he wasn’t even inside me.
He wrapped one arm around my back and used his free hand to cup my breast, bringing it closer to his mouth.
“You’re getting me all wet, sweetheart,” he said, thrusting his hips, grinding over my clit with more friction. With a firm hold on my breast, he sucked the entire peak into his mouth. I yanked again on his hair, which only made him suck harder.
“Condom,” I whispered. “Now.”
“I’m busy,” he snarled against my breast. “You get it.” He nodded at his pants next to us on the couch.
I didn’t find anything other than his wallet, so I pulled it out and sure enough, there were two inside. I opened one quickly and, with him still nibbling on me, reached between us and slid it on him.
I positioned myself above him. He relinquished my breasts and gripped my neck in his hands. I wanted to forget all the darkness, the heavy past that we both carried. I wanted to unleash the aggression I had been carrying around for years. And I wanted to be Roman’s catalyst for his release.
His hard stare told me everything I needed to know—he felt the same way.
I slammed down on him, his massive cock impaling me in one snug glide.
“Shit,” he hissed. “So tight, every damn time.” He leaned up and kissed me, though it was more of a bite than anything else.
Gripping my ass, he moved me up and down on him, faster and harder. My breasts bounced between us, my sensitive nipples raking along his hard chest. I pushed down, taking him all the way to the hilt, and stayed there, keeping him deep inside as I whipped my hips back and forth.
