Problem is I welcome blood.
I was hoping Juliette would give them my name, my address and my fucking social security number. I was seriously disappointed when she told them who I was and then politely talked them out of pursuing the matter.
That's how I know for sure that I'm spinning out of control, and I'm not entirely sure what can stop me, but I'm going to try like hell to stop. I need to if I want to ever deserve the right to keep Elizabeth by my side.
♥ ♥ ♥
I met Katherine Lee Dixon (Kat for short) when I was thirteen years old, and she was seventeen. Our fathers were longtime friends and we were visiting her home for some sort of business meeting. Business back in those days usually involved drinks, and drinks meant we were staying a while.
The night we met, Kat asked me if I wanted to go watch music videos in her room for a while, and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I was young and horny, and I was hoping like all hell that "watch music videos" was girl code for "touch my boobs."
I was right.
"Have you ever had sex, Roman?" is what she asked me outright, as she pulled her oversized T-shirt over her head, revealing a pretty pink lace bra underneath. I remember my thirteen-year-old penis getting stiff as a board, which probably had a lot to do with my keen interest in women's lingerie. There was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime by telling her the truth that day, so I lied.
"Yep."
"So you know how to make a girl come then?"
"Don't you know how?" I asked like an idiot, basically exposing my lie.
She laughed a little and began stroking the side of my face.
"It's okay if you don't know what to do, Roman. That's what I'm here for. To teach you. If you want."
I didn't actually think whether I wanted to or not was up for decision or debate. Kat was ready to teach me something about sex whether I was ready or not, because at this point she had her pants off and jumped up on her bed in her bra and matching pink panties.
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be taking off my own clothes or helping her take off her underwear. I'd watched plenty of porn by that age, but this was a real world situation, an actual opportunity, and like a punk kid, I froze under the pressure.
"Well?" she asked. "Do you want to learn how to make a girl scream your name or not?"
Well since she put it that way.
"Yep."
"Good let's get to it then. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."
I watched hungrily as Kat unlatched the hooks of her bra, slid down her lace-trimmed panties, and sat up against the headboard with her legs spread eagle. I almost came right in my pants at the sight.
I think that's the moment I truly fell in love with pussy.
A few moments later I learned how to eat it; and then it only took several more moments for me to learn how to push inside of it and seek release. As first times go, I have to admit that I had a great one.
Kat moved to Florida to live with her mother not too long after that, but we occasionally kept in touch over the years. I hadn't seen her in several years when we reconnected at the autism event, but I knew she would be there. We briefly talked before she flew in, and we made a plan to catch up as well as to talk business at the gala. She's a VP at a production company based out of Miami, which is admirable at her age, although I'm sure her daddy's money had a lot to do with it.
She mentioned something about a complicated situation going on with a former employee, and asked about hiring me to take care of it. It was a much welcomed distraction from all the energy it was taking me to avoid Elizabeth all night (a big mistake evidently), so we spoke in great lengths about it.
"So my dad told me that you've broken off with your father and are on your own now. Is that right?"
"That's right. He's retiring. Spending more quality time with Juliette I suppose," I said casually.
"Good for them. You know I love them as a couple. Wish my dad would have found a nice stepmom for me, but you know him. So listen, are you ready to take on a project asap? Or would you need time to wrap up some other commitments if I hired you?"
"I'm available right away. Anything I've got going on here, my partners can handle."
"Wonderful," she smiled. "You know you look real good, Rome."
I was well acquainted with the hungry look Kat was giving me. The look of a good woman desperate to erase the bad memories of a love gone wrong. I'd been that man for many women before, but unfortunately I couldn't be that for her. We'd have to keep this strictly business if this was going to work.
"You too, Kat. I'm glad to see that divorce agrees with you."
"It does," she smiled back at me, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Her divorce must have been tough on her.
"Relationships are a beast, Rome. You've done the smart thing by staying away from anything too serious. I'm barely in my thirties, and I'm already a divorcee."
"Yeah, that sucks," I said with distraction, because my serious thing had just entered the building.
I knew the minute that Elizabeth walked into the room. I could feel her, like I always do. I was itching to find her, wrap my hands around her neck, and kiss her long and deep. Making sure that every man in the place knew that she belonged to me, but there was a part of my ego that wouldn't allow it. Part of me was waiting for her to come looking for me that night. I needed her to want me and find me in more ways than one.
It didn't take me long to spot her among the crowd, and once I did, I could not believe what she was wearing. My woman has a mouth-watering shape. Images that I've jerked myself off to many a fucking night when we weren't together. But one of the things that I love about Elizabeth is that she doesn't flaunt it. She likes to keep things covered and casual in jeans or sweats most of the time, but not that night.
That damn dress.
Small, tight, and a subtle gold color that shimmered against her skin. Illuminating her figure. Acting almost as a siren call to every man in the building. The dress was made from a fabric that clung and caressed every hill and valley of her luscious body. It was somewhat modest in the front with zero cleavage, but then it dropped down dangerously low in the back. So low that I was sure every man within a three foot radius around her was trying to see if they could get a good peek at the crack of her ass. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that Elizabeth was purposely wearing that dress to tease me.
Torment me.
Kill me.
I wanted her in the worst way and not just because of how fuckable she looked, but because I missed the hell out of her. I hadn't smiled in days. I hadn't really laughed in weeks. I hadn't touched her in forever. But the words she spoke in her house a few days back hurt me, and sometimes I don't heal quickly or forgive easy. In fact, sometimes I can be a stubborn ass.
So I admit that I didn't say much to her over the course of the evening. I gave myself the excuse that she asked for the space. So even though Kat and I were actually talking business, the type of business that might turn everything around for me and the Kings, I may have paid my old friend a little extra attention when I thought Elizabeth was watching. It was a dick move I know, but I did it anyway.
In fact, I was so preoccupied and inside of my own feelings that I didn't even notice just how much Elizabeth was drinking until it was too late. I had eyes on her most of the night, but when I let her out of my sight for one fucking second, it's like the sharks in the room could smell blood in the water and started circling.
That beefed up fucker was about to go to blows with me over Elizabeth, and he hadn't even had a whiff of her pussy yet. I don't think my Duchess has a clue of the effect that she has on men. She thinks I'm blowing smoke up her ass when I tell her that, but it's true. If I could shrink her ass and tuck her away in my pocket all day, God knows I would.
The deal I'm cutting with Kat is a good one. Not only will I handle the problem she's having with a former line producer at her company, but she's going to retain us to handl
e various problems with talent at the company. A lot of actors and actresses are nothing but over-indulged children, with a sense of entitlement and money to burn. They get in more trouble than a little bit. It will be my job to get them out of it. It will also get me out of town for a while, which is probably just what I need. Clear my head and get my mind straight, because it seems that all of my insecurities are fucking with me.
My mother's letter brought up a whole lot of shit for me. While her words validated much of what I've always felt growing up, the bottom line is that she still was a shitty mother. Whether she had good reasons or not. Everyone shouldn't be a parent. Sometimes I think bringing me into the world was probably one of the most selfish things she could have done. She was not ready to be a parent and who knows if my real father was. He was never even given the opportunity to find out. Now he's dead. So that's the end of that.
Then there is the other obvious issue glaring me in the face–Joseph. I know that he read the letter. It was opened and taped back. There's no way that he didn't see what my mother wrote. So he must know that he isn't my biological father. Or maybe he's always known.
All of this is making me seriously doubt ever having kids of my own. There's just so many ways to fuck it all up. I wonder if that would be a deal breaker for Elizabeth? No kids. I wonder if just I could be enough for her?
Speaking of Elizabeth, things are still not right between us. I can't put my finger on it, but this isn't just about me giving her the silent treatment for a few days or even about Kat. She's put up a wall. Not a brick wall, but something tantamount to a clear Plexiglas one. A wall where we can clearly see each other, want each other, but we cannot reach out and touch each other. She's pulling back, and I'm pushing hard, but no connection. It's driving me fucking nuts.
I think I better learn how to blow up fucking Plexiglas.
And fast.
Before my blue balls force me to seriously hurt someone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ELIZABETH
Ethan: We need to meet.
Me: I told you not to contact me.
Ethan: Then you should have changed your contact information. Maybe there's a reason why you didn't? ☺
Me: Stop texting me.
Ethan: You didn't answer my email so I'm texting.
Me: That was my response to your email. No response.
Ethan: Oh, I thought maybe it just went to your junk folder. ☺
Me: OMG, what do you want Ethan?!
Ethan: Like I said, I need to speak to you. It's about your cousin. Oh, I mean the dude you're fucking.
Me: And f*cking me well.
Ethan: Hopefully he taught you a few things.☺
Me: He's definitely a better teacher than the one I had.
Ethan: Who is this new and improved spitfire?
Me: Someone you need to leave alone.
Ethan: Only after we meet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELIZABETH
I didn't respond any further to Ethan, because it was clear that he was looking to pick a fight, but I have to admit that the exchange between us has me shaken. I didn't respond to his email, especially now that I know that Jade is watching his inbox, and I changed my cell number after moving in with Joseph and Juliette. So the fact that he was able to find my new cell number worries me. While I know that he likely obtained my new number from a mutual friend from Penn or something, the fact that he went through those sorts of hoops to do so is really troublesome.
While Ethan may have completely fooled me about his drug habit last year when we were dating, there are some things about the guy that I think I know for sure. He's not the type to pine away for me or any girl for that matter. Even though we were dating for over a year, I never felt totally secure about our relationship. Ethan is attractive, arrogant and completely full of himself. Typical frat boy. People are naturally drawn to him, including me, and things always came easy for him. Deep down I never felt worthy. I knew there was a strong possibility that he was looking, if not actually messing around, with other girls the entire time we were together. What we had definitely wasn't real, it wasn't healthy, and it wasn't love. It was the complete opposite of everything that I feel for Roman.
So if Ethan is contacting me out of the blue like this, then my gut is telling me that it must be for a legitimate reason. Not to woo me back, but probably for a reason that only he benefits from. He needs something.
You know what they say about curiosity and the cat. Regardless of what we want, it can't be worth jeopardizing my life to find out, because there's no question that Roman would kill me if he ever found out that I met with Ethan. That's if Sloan didn't beat him to it. Roman may rub her the wrong way sometimes, but after all the shenanigans that Ethan has pulled, she really can't stand him. She won't even say his name out loud, just like many of the Harry Potter characters won't say Voldemort's name.
"Every time we bring him up, bad shit happens," she said.
I just can't shake the feeling though, that it isn't just a coincidence that I almost bumped into Shrek one day and then I hear from Ethan the next. The two must be connected in some way, and not in a very good one. I don't want any part of it. I just want to forget about it. So I've decided to ignore both the email and the text.
"You all right?" Blake asks with genuine concern in his voice. He's finishing up some coding while I do a little social media marketing on my laptop.
"I'm fine. Are you almost finished over there?"
He shuts his laptop and turns completely around to face me.
"It's none of my business, but I can see that everything is not all right. I'm a great listener. You've already heard my sad story, so feel free to tell me yours, too."
"This isn't about my boyfriend at all."
"Okay."
I can tell by his tone that Blake doesn't believe me, and I don't even blame him. Roman didn't leave much of a first impression when they first met. The two met at my house. There was a brief handshake, a few hard looks, and then Roman went into the office to make some calls. He told me later that he didn't care for the look of Blake. I was completely embarrassed but Blake was gracious and told me not to worry about it.
Blake probably also doesn't believe me because I'm sure he's overheard me bitching to Sloan about Roman's behavior at the gala as well as the fact that he's now picked up and gone to Miami, the same place that the mysterious family friend Kat lives. So it's certainly more than likely that Blake thinks that Roman is a total asshole, which wouldn't be so off the mark. I'm starting to think he is too. Trouble is I'm in love with the asshole.
"No really," I sigh. "It was just a text I got from an ex."
"You don't have to talk about it, Beth. It's fine. Let's finish this up."
Now I was starting to feel weird. Like Blake thought I was keeping some sort of deep, dark secret.
"He wants to see me," I blurt out. "My ex asked if he could see me."
"Does he want to get back together with you or something?" Blake asks with interest.
"I doubt it, but I didn't really give him the chance to tell me why."
"Well there's probably a good reason why you didn't give him the time of day. I say go with your gut."
"My gut is actually telling me to do the opposite. It's saying that I should find out what he wants. It's my head that's saying hell no. I'm pretty good at holding grudges."
Blake raises an eyebrow at that.
"Is it possible that you still care about this dude?"
"Absolutely not. He's never had my best interest at heart."
"Well why do you think your gut is telling you that the two of you should meet? That seems a little strange if he's a total jerk."
Blake has no idea about the drama I went through last year. I've told so many versions of the story I can't keep track of the lies anymore. I don't want to have to tell another.
"Because I don't think after everything we've been through together, that he would just contact me for no reason."
>
He's up to something. Plus he mentioned Roman's name.
"Then maybe you should meet with him. It probably can't hurt if you don't have feelings for him."
"It's just not a good idea."
"Is it because of what Roman would think? Is that why you're scared?"
Well sort of, but I think Blake has the wrong idea. He sounds as if he thinks I'm in some sort of abusive relationship. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but I hate that he thinks so ill of him. Sometimes I just wish one person in my life could see Roman the way that I do. The way that he actually is. Imperfect but amazing.
"I'm not afraid of Roman at all, Blake. This is about my ex boyfriend. He and I don't have a good history."
Blake pauses for a moment, takes a sip of his energy drink, then speaks again.
"Well I see things like this. You're totally distracted by this situation. It's affecting your work and probably your personal life. So you should probably just handle it, and get it out of the way. What if I go with you to the meet?"
"Um, that would be above and beyond your call of duty, not to mention a total snoozefest for you."
Blake smiles.
The Cousins Series Boxed Set Page 54
