Breaking Roman (The Moran Family Book 3)

Home > Childrens > Breaking Roman (The Moran Family Book 3) > Page 20
Breaking Roman (The Moran Family Book 3) Page 20

by Alexis James


  Good lord, what has that man done to me?

  Deep breath in, big breath out, I shove my key in the lock and plaster a happy smile on my face. Jack and Emmy are perched on the couch, some reality show blasting in the background, an empty pizza box and candy wrappers scattered on the coffee table. They each greet me with a smile, although Jack takes one look at my face and is up off the couch and stalking toward me. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me down the hall and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind us.

  “What the hell happened?”

  I glance down at myself. I’m rumpled, but I’m clean and my hair is pulled neatly into a ponytail, even if I do smell like Roman’s body wash. “Uh, nothing?”

  Jack glares at me. “You’re MIA for over twenty-four hours, coming home almost two hours after you said you’d be here, and you’re telling me that nothing happened?”

  Shrugging, I toss down my purse onto the bed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He shoots me a hard look and glances up and down my body. “First, you need to understand that I am no fool. I know a well-fucked woman when I see one.” Leaning closer, he gives me a sniff and rolls his eyes. “Second, you smell like him.” A cocky smirk lifts one corner of his mouth. “And third, your shirt is on inside out.”

  I gasp and look down at myself, finding the shirt perfectly righted on my body and hating myself for failing to see that he was playing me. “You’re a jerk.”

  Jack grins at me and plops down onto the end of the bed. “And you, gorgeous lady, are one big slut.” He waves his hand in front of me. “Look at you! Jesus, you’re practically glowing you’re so damn satisfied.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Why, oh why, can’t I meet a hot guy like that?” He’s quick to amend his statement, like I could forget. “A gay one, I mean.”

  “Oh really?” I feign shock and slump down next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Have you ever been with someone and when you leave one another it feels physically painful?” He nods, but remains silent. “God, Jack, I’m a mess. I feel happy and elated and ready to burst. Then I think about how long it will be until we can be alone together again and I just want to cry.” My already teary eyes meet his. “Is that stupid?”

  “No, it’s not. I think it means you’re heart’s invested.” His fingers entwine with mine. “Is it?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” Tears drip slowly down my face, and suddenly I feel like a stupid teenager. “I’m terrified that I’m falling in love with him.”

  Jack is silent, but I can’t miss the way his body tenses next to mine. Like me, he’s avoided love all his life, though in his case it’s more about his need to play the field rather than certain responsibilities getting in the way of a lasting relationship.

  “How does he feel?”

  Swiping at my face, I whisper, “He says he wants to make a life with me. That me and Em mean the world to him.”

  “Ah, baby, I’m so happy for you.”

  Facing him, the tears return with a vengeance. “He says that now, though, but what about when …”

  “Stop. Stop right there. You know better than anyone that you can’t predict the future and that you have to take what you’ve been given and make it your own.” Leaning close, his eyes are hard on mine. “Don’t you dare push him away because you’re scared or because you don’t think you’re worthy of him. The man adores you, Sabrina, so let him. Let him make a life with you.” His forehead comes down onto mine. “Let him love you.”

  I want nothing more than for that to happen, but I’m fully aware of Roman’s past and his almost habitual need to romance women. How can I trust that my heart will be protected? How can I believe that he really is willing to change just for me? As overwhelmed as I feel about what happened today, I’d rather walk away now than risk getting deeper involved and having him break me completely.

  The odd thing is, I do trust him. I do believe it when he tells me he wants to make a life with me and Emmy, which is why it’s so hard to consider these doubts when they wander in and out of my head. Why would the man admit that he’s been enamored with me for years, if he didn’t have plans to make us a long-term deal?

  Jack wipes the tears away with his thumbs and pulls me close. “Trust me with this, my beauty. I know when a man is smitten. And that man is crazy nuts for you.”

  Closing my eyes, I whisper, “I sure hope so.”

  Work has never been more of a challenge. I’ve been constantly distracted all week, obsessively fixating on every single thing Sabrina and I did to one another in the sanctuary of my bedroom. I find myself zoning out during phone calls, recalling how responsive she was. My mind trails off during meetings, remembering how alive we were in each other’s arms. Recalling how the entire world faded away until it was just the two of us, surrounded by candle light, giving and receiving pleasure time and time again. Marco has been hassling me nonstop about being tuned out, though thankfully not whenever Emmy is in the office. He may think he knows things have changed between me and Sabrina, but he has no clue how far we’ve fallen.

  Keeping a businesslike distance between us is a challenge, especially when every time I look at her I don’t see the distant HR manager but the naked woman writhing underneath me, calling out my name as she comes. It’s like I’m seventeen again, the way I can’t seem to shake off this heightened sense of awareness I have about her now.

  All week our physical contact has been less than nothing—a brief touch of a hand here and there and some lingering glances. Driving her into work should have been a good chance for us to reconnect, but I somehow forgot that Emmy would be tagging along too, which made the idea of carpooling even more awkward than it should have been.

  Finding her car gone the following morning threw me, but I suppose I should have expected nothing less. Of course she can’t admit to her daughter that she left her car at my apartment, and I have no idea what excuse she’s used. How selfish of me to insist on it, not once taking into consideration the fallout for her or how it would appear. I suppose I should have asked how she arranged to pick it up, but we haven’t had a chance to speak alone; I can only assume Jack had something to do with it.

  “Hey, Roman, can I ask you something?” Emmy plops down in the chair across from me, pulling her legs up onto the seat, slim arms wrapped around her upturned knees.

  Pulled from my musing, I nod. “You bet, kiddo. Fire away.”

  Tipping her head to the side, she gnaws on her lower lip and turns curious blue eyes on me. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”

  I hold my expression, keeping calm even though I feel turned upside down. “Well, yeah, I suppose I am. How do you feel about that?”

  She shrugs. “It’s cool, I guess. My mom has never had a boyfriend so I’m not sure how this is gonna work.”

  That makes two of us. Bet she’d rethink her cool remark if she knew I’d never really been a boyfriend before to anyone, not the long-lasting type any way. “What did your mom say?”

  Emmy picks at her chipped nail polish. “Not a whole lot. She told me that you guys like each other. And that you’re dating.” She blinks repeatedly. “Does that mean that you’re gonna sleep over all the time?”

  My groin tightens at the idea, and I’m very grateful I’m sitting behind the desk. Acting nonchalant will go a long way in easing her fears. “No, I’m not.” Fingers clasped, I lean forward. “What are you worried about, Em?”

  “It’s just that I know how these things work. I have friends whose parents are split up and whenever they start seeing someone new, they’re gone all the time.” Worried eyes meet mine. “Are you gonna take my mom out every night?”

  God, my heart is breaking for this sweet kid. No surprise Sabrina was so damn skittish about getting involved with me. It all seems crystal clear now. Her mom has been her world, and now all of a sudden I’m there threatening to unravel it all. “No, I’m not. But I would like to take her out for dinner or to a movie once a week.”

  “Maybe sometime I can come too?”

/>   “Of course, kiddo. Just because I care about your mom doesn’t mean we aren’t going to spend time with you.” Rising, I move around the desk, squatting to face her. “Your mom and I need time alone to get to know each other better, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I want to pull her away from you. Okay?”

  She nods. “Do you love my mom?”

  “Yes, I do.” Taking her hands in mine, I whisper, “I’d appreciate you keeping that to yourself for a bit until I have a chance to tell her myself.”

  Her lips lift in a wide smile. “How come you haven’t told her?”

  “You know what, I’m not sure. I think it’s because I’m trying to take things slow. Love is a very, very big step, and I don’t want to push your mom into anything she’s not ready for.”

  “Yeah …” This time she’s the one whispering. “I think she loves you too.”

  My heart clenches painfully. “Well, I guess if she wants me to know that, she’ll tell me.” I give her fingers a squeeze. “I’m gonna make you a promise. I’ll never do anything to come between you and your mom. You have my word on that. But you have to promise me that if something is bugging you, something I’m doing or not doing or if I’m keeping her away too much, you have to promise that you’ll tell me and we will talk about it. Deal?” I hold out my hand, and she shoots me a smile when we shake on it. “Come here, kiddo.” Pulling her up, we embrace, and I grin when I hear her sigh of relief.

  Over her head, I see Sabrina step into the office, teary eyed and smiling. She remains standing in the doorway, giving us space I presume, although her gaze is locked on mine. My stomach rolls with anticipation … and something that feels a whole lot like nerves. Suddenly the weight of responsibility I felt at the beginning of this conversation has suddenly doubled. My love life, such as it was, was only ever about mutual satisfaction between me and my partner. I never felt particularly obligated to care one way or the other about the woman or her feelings and certainly nothing ever came up about children. Truthfully, the women I slept with before had little to offer in the conversation department and even though one or two actually held my attention for more than a few weeks, I’ve never once felt duty-bound to be particularly careful with their feelings.

  Not until now.

  Not until her.

  Stepping back, I look down at my young charge and shoot her a cocky smile. “Now, if you’re done with all the chitchat, there’s work to be done.”

  She giggles and turns toward her desk, lighting up when she sees her mom standing in the doorway. “Hey, Mom.”

  Sabrina drops a kiss on her head. “Hi, baby. Can I steal Roman away for a minute?”

  Emmy nods. “You bet.”

  I follow her dutifully down the hall and into the stairwell. The moment the door closes, I’ve got her backed against the wall and my mouth comes down hard on hers. She moans softly, throwing her arms around my neck and weaving her tongue with mine. There’s nothing sweet or gentle about this moment, not when I grind my pelvis against hers and not when her hand slides down to grip my ass tightly. I’m hard as steel for her, needy and impatient, and the way she’s rubbing up against me I’d say she feels the same way.

  My lips slide over her jaw and down her neck, just as my hand makes its way beneath her skirt. She fidgets, a move I can’t tell whether is to draw me in or push me away. Assuming she wants me right where I am, I dip my finger under the lace of her panties, finding her achingly wet for me.

  “Jesus, Sabrina,” I growl. “Do you know what this does to me?” Her only answer is to moan. I consider where to take her, where to get her alone, so I can plummet deep inside her warmth and once more feel the exquisite bliss of hearing her come with me. But our choices are limited and we’re on a real time clock here, considering Emmy expects us back any moment.

  Settling for getting her off is no chore, especially when she sighs, “Yes,” the moment my fingers slide in deep. I’m might be like a fucking stone, but her release will go a long way in pleasing me. The way she’s riding my hand tells me she’s as worked up as I am, maybe even more so, which strangely enough makes me harder. Makes me that much more determined to see she gets hers.

  “That’s it, gorgeous,” I whisper in her ear. “Come all over my fingers.” I can feel her trembling inside, her body fisting me tightly. “Just let go.” And she does … so much so that I fear for my own sanity in not being able to join her. Nails dig into my skin as she whispers and moans and swears, and I gobble up each word with my mouth as my hand continues to work her through it. Christ, she’s beautiful. Needing her, wanting her like this, is fucking with my head as much as it is playing with my heart. This intoxicating woman has me spellbound, impatient for her time, her mind, her body. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d take her away for a week and never, ever let her out of my sight. I worry only that it might make things even more difficult than they’ve already been.

  Satisfied blue eyes meet mine as she smiles happily. “I can’t believe I did that.” I remain silent, slowly pulling my fingers away and thoroughly licking each one clean. She watches me with a stunned expression, cheeks flushed, mouth hanging slightly open. After all we did to one another the other day, I can’t believe she’s embarrassed, but she is. It’s so darn cute all I can do is kiss her, kiss her hard and deep and thoroughly until we’re both breathless and I’m left speculating how the hell I’m supposed to walk with this beam between my legs.

  “I need to get you alone,” I say quietly as she straightens her clothes.

  “Okay. When?”

  Wow. I didn’t expect that. I expected a fight, evasiveness and excuses. I sure as hell didn’t expect her to fall right in line with my way of thinking. “How about tomorrow night, after Emmy’s party?”

  She frowns. “Her friends are spending the night. That won’t work.”

  Yeah, dumbass, what did you think she’d say? “Sunday, then?”

  “I don’t know, Roman. I’m not sure how long the girls are staying.” Her hands grasp my face. “I need to get you alone too. We’ll figure something out.”

  Will we? I ask silently as I pull her close and breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. Finding time together is going to be a lot more difficult than I first thought, and the simple fact that I’m literally hard every time she comes around me sure as fuck doesn’t help. But I have to weigh the conversation I had with Emmy with my need to be alone with Sabrina. I’m just not sure how to do that.

  Sabrina nods and fixes a smile to her face that doesn’t reach her eyes. “We will. I promise.” Glancing at her watch, she grimaces. “I’ve got to get back. We’ll talk tonight?”

  Nodding, I send her on her way with a quick kiss, watching her ass as she climbs the stairs. Once out of sight, I flop against the wall and scrub my hand over my face. Christ, this whole entire thing is bat-shit crazy. How the hell are we supposed to do this … hiding out in stairwells getting each other off or going at it in the janitor’s closet? We’re not kids for crying out loud, and I do have a certain amount of decorum I’m supposed to uphold here at work simply because my last name is Moran. I can only imagine what Cruz would have to say if he knew about what we just did, though it’s not like the guy is innocent or anything. He’s done his fair share of sexual meanderings at work too.

  Willing my body into submission takes a whole lot of thinking about everything except the beautiful blonde who just came apart in my arms. Once I’m at least half-sane, I head back inside the office. Emmy is bent over the desk, sorting and filing, oblivious to me as she bobs her head to her music. Thank God for my desk … thank God she’s too young to assume we were off playing Ride My Fingers in the stairwell. Chuckling at myself, I force my attention to the computer screen and attempt to get some work done.

  Five minutes later my phone buzzes in my pocket. Reading the text, I swallow back a laugh and smile. “Wash your hands!”

  Damn … Minimal alone time or not, she is perfect.

  I can’t believe my little girl is sixt
een. How the heck did that happen? Seems like only yesterday she and I were sharing a small bedroom at my parents’ house. I remember lying there each night, watching her precious, sweet face in slumber, hoping and praying for a happy future for my child. It feels like I blinked and suddenly she’s pushing me to teach her to drive.

  Boy, do I feel old.

  A quick glance in the mirror reminds me that I’m not old, not yet anyway, and I’ve got a lot of living to do today. Considering this past week and the antics between me and Roman, I’d say that I’m just beginning to really live my life.

  My face heats when I recall our stairwell hookup. What the hell was I thinking, going at him like that, letting him bring me to orgasm just steps away from people we work with? Have I completely lost my mind over this man?

  “Yes,” I whisper to my reflection.

  Witnessing that sweet exchange he had with Emmy yesterday has been life-altering. Granted, I only heard the tail end of their conversation, but watching him gently reassure my child and make her feel a part of what he and I are has endeared him to me forever. If I hadn’t lost my heart to him before, I sure have now. How could I not? The man is a crazy dichotomy of sweetness and lightness mixed with his driven need to please me, both emotionally and physically. He’s like a tender mix of Jekyll and Hyde, though he willingly shows me both sides of his personality. He does have those intense moments where his need to command overrides his sense of innate kindness, but I’d be a fool to complain. Alpha-male Roman is something to behold, that’s for sure. The way he controlled my body and repeatedly brought me to heights I’ve only read about just goes to show how well hidden he keeps his inner beast.

  I can feel my body responding to my thoughts, nipples hardening, need pulsating between my legs—evidence of this man’s power over me. I’m lost in him, gladly handing over my heart and my body for his safe keeping. If someone had asked me months ago if I could ever imagine myself so mesmerized by a man, I’d have scoffed and said they were nuts. Yet here I am, eagerly awaiting an afternoon with him—an afternoon where we’ll be surrounded by teenagers and forced to play things innocently.

 

‹ Prev