Breaking Roman (The Moran Family Book 3)

by Alexis James

  Innocent is the last thing I want. After years of nothing, I would be content with him in my bed every single night. I’m just that desperate. Maybe it’s not the act itself that I’m desperate for but the man.

  Fear trickles down my spine, and I quickly dismiss it. Nerves are normal at the beginning of a relationship, right? Why wouldn’t they be? After all, I’m handing myself, and my child, over to him, entrusting that he will care for us both. I’m leaving myself wide open for heartbreak. But then again, so is he. I suppose that’s the price you pay for releasing yourself to another. There’s always the chance that something will happen and you’ll be forced to face the future alone.

  There’s a quick knock at the bathroom door. “Mom? Roman and Uncle Jack are here.”

  “Be right out.”

  Stretching my neck side to side, I take a few deep breaths and remind myself that today is about Emmy, her celebration, her friends. Roman, Jack, and I are merely chaperones, forced to endure hours of endless giggling and constant, rapid conversation from the teenagers. Today is not about me or my relationship with Roman. Tomorrow I can worry about what happens next.

  Moving down the hallway, I enter the room and look around. Emmy is seated on the carpet surrounded by her friends while Jack and Roman stand over them like sentries with their arms folded, expressions muted. Jack sees me first, wiggling his eyebrows as I move closer. But its Roman’s gaze I feel on a solely physical level, taking me in and thoroughly looking me over. If the heated look in his eyes is any indication, I’d say he’s spending his own amount of time remembering what transpired between the two of us.

  His hand engulfs mine so naturally it feels like breathing and his dimples taunt me as he smiles wide. “You look beautiful.”

  Glancing down at my T-shirt and jeans, I have to laugh. “Uh, thanks, but I’m dressed for bowling.”

  Leaning close, he whispers, “Not about the clothes, babe.”

  “Oh my,” Jack gushes, fanning himself discreetly.

  Emmy turns her attention away from her friends and waves her hands at me. “Look, Mom! Roman brought me all these gifts!”

  The child is quite literally surrounded by gift bags and brightly decorated packages. I immediately turn to Roman and scold, “You should not have done that. You will spoil her.”

  He shrugs and shares a smile with Emmy. “I didn’t. Well, I did, but only three are from me. The rest are from my family.”

  Oh goodness! My heart may actually explode with happiness. “They didn’t have to buy presents for her.”

  The look he sends me—narrowed eyes, deep scowl—looks an awful lot like he’s insulted. “Yeah, they did.”

  “Mom, can I open them?”

  Wanting to move past the weird vibe I’m now getting from him, I reply, “Sure. Then we’ll head out.”

  Minutes later all that’s left are piles of tattered wrapping paper and empty boxes. We’ve all oohed and aahed over everything: the various pieces of clothing from Mia and Cruz, the purse from Amita, the stack of gift cards from Marco. There’s an assortment of makeup from Isabella, a fancy E-reader from Roman, as well as some pricey sunglasses and an adorable tote bag. Nothing can compare with the beautiful necklace his parents have given her. It’s simple, though it’s clear they spared no expense. At the end of the delicate silver chain hangs a square lime-green gem with a tiny diamond in each of the four corners. She admires it with wide, stunned eyes, as moved by their generosity as I am.

  “That’s your birthstone,” Roman states, moving behind her to fasten it around her neck.

  Emmy fingers the jewel and gazes up him. “Wow. This is too much.”

  “No it isn’t, kiddo. You deserve it.” He shoots her a smile then resumes his place next to me, our hands linked once more.

  There is so much I want to say to this man it’s practically burning a hole in my tongue, but now is certainly not the time for me to declare my undying love nor is it the time to tug him into one of the rooms and kiss him senseless. On one hand I’m grateful for all the chaos around us as the girls prepare to depart, which leaves me lost in the shuffle to mull things over in my head. On the other hand I’d give anything to have him alone for five minutes just to express how grateful I am.

  “The girls can ride with me,” Jack suggests, grinning at us both with a wicked smile. “We’ll meet you there.” Leaning close to Roman, he whispers, “No hanky-panky, mister.”

  “No promises, man,” Roman drawls.

  Jack makes quick work of coaxing the teenagers into his car, sending us one more knowing grin as they pull away from the curb. And just like the day in the stairwell, the moment we’re alone we crash into one another, a flurry of lips and tongues and groping hands as he sinks down onto the couch and pulls me across his lap. I do nothing to hide my need and neither does he, not when his hands slide under my shirt, not when my fingers work his zipper.

  “We’ve gotta be quick,” I pant, shooting to my feet and dragging my jeans and panties down to my ankles. By the time I crawl back on him again, he’s sheathed himself with a condom and pulls me directly down onto his cock. Our loud groans fill the empty room as I start to move, sliding up and down on him in a slow, unhurried pace.

  “I thought you said we had to hurry,” he whispers, lips on my neck, fingers between my legs.

  “Feels too good to hurry.”

  But the need for completion far outweighs the need for long, leisurely lovemaking. Mere minutes later I’m bouncing up and down on his lap and he’s filling me so completely I almost can’t breathe. Looking down, I find him clenching his teeth and looking up at me with dark, needy eyes. His fingers grip my hips tightly as he removes my control and takes over, thrusting into me each time he pulls me down. I may be the one on top, but he’s clearly the guide here, directing each and every pump of his hips to the exact spot inside of me that makes me tremble.

  “Roman … oh God …”

  “That’s it, beautiful, come for me,” he commands, growling out the order, as if I have any hope of denying either of us. But his words do exactly what he expects, sending me flying high and groaning loudly as I shake through an exquisite, body-melting orgasm. Two more deep thrusts and he’s following me over the edge, head thrown back as he curses loudly and groans out my name. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things in my life but watching him come undone beneath me tops everything else. The sheer splendor of watching this magnificent creature release himself to me has me spiraling yet again, making me gasp breathlessly as I attempt to gain some control over my own body.

  What has he done to me? I know I’ve asked myself that question a few times this past week, the past few months, but each time I ask it again it feels like I’m being pulled deeper and deeper into the chasm of his heart and leaving mine behind in the process. Well, technically my heart isn’t even mine anymore; it’s been his for a while now. Now it just feels like every part of me is his as well, and I don’t know whether to be elated or terrified.

  “Holy shit.” Roman sighs, opening his eyes and smiling slowly at me. “What the hell was that?”

  Glancing down at our bodies, I start to laugh. My sandals have scattered in opposite directions, jeans and panties hanging precariously off one ankle. His own pants are pulled down just enough. We’re both still fully dressed up top. Clearly there was only one thing in mind the moment his mouth met mine: quick, hard, mind-blowing sex.

  Wrinkling my nose, I mutter, “Um … yeah.”

  “Come here.” Pulling me down, he drops a tender kiss on my lips, tucking my hair behind my ears. “You know Jack is gonna give us crap about this.”

  Rolling my eyes, I thread my fingers in his soft, messy hair and nod. “Oh yeah. He knew exactly what he was doing when he offered to drive the girls.” A quick glance at my watch tells me we’re close to pushing our luck. “We should probably get going.”

  We share another sweet, heartbreaking kiss. Then he helps me off his lap. Ten minutes later we’re finally on the road headed to the b
owling alley, and he’s once more holding tightly to my hand. I feel like I’m smiling so wide my face might split in two and just the thought of that makes me laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  With a shrug, I drop my head back against the seat and turn to face him. “Nothing. Just happy. So happy.”

  His eyes dart sideways. “Me too.”

  My stomach flips around a few thousand times, excitement and elation mixed with the usual nerves of holding back all the feelings that want to explode from my mouth. Now is not the time to delve into all that. Later, much later, when I can get him alone I’ll tell him. Until then I’ll just sit here and glow with happiness.

  The birthday bowling party turns out to be a success. Emmy and her friends take over one lane while the guys and I take over the other. Jack and Roman keep up a healthy back and forth banter about who is better at the sport, and I happily sit back and watch it all unfold, feeling like I need to pinch myself. Everyone I love is right here with me … my child, my best friend, and the man who has quickly taken over my heart. I couldn’t ask for more, although I would, if only it would mean I’d have more time alone with him.

  “So, Roman, I gotta ask … what are your intentions with my girl here?” Jack is smiling but the intense look in his eyes says he’s completely serious about the question.

  I start to intercede, but Roman waves me off and brushes his lips against my temple before stating, “Isn’t that between me and Sabrina?”

  “No. It’s my job to watch out for her.”

  Their silent pissing contest goes on for a few long moments. Then Roman replies, “Good. I’m glad. And to answer your question, my intentions are for her to be mine, in every way, for as long as she’ll have me. That okay with you?”

  Jack grins and sighs. “Good God, man, why can’t you be gay?”

  Roman remains silent, but the look he directs at my breasts tells Jack and I everything we need to know. “Okay, whose turn is it?”

  After another two games of bowling, we head to the pizza parlor. The girls are chattering nonstop, munching on pepperoni slices and slurping down soft drinks, content to sit at their own table while the three of us share a booth. Jack regales us with a watered-down story about his night out on the town, keeping the details to a minimum for the innocent ears nearby. We comment or asks questions when it’s required, but mostly we’re content to simply listen and enjoy being in one another’s company.

  Back at the house a few hours later, we enjoy cake and ice cream, and then the girls head off to Emmy’s room to do what teenage girls do best. Jack and Roman are sprawled on the couch watching some action movie, bantering back and forth over particular scenes as men do. At first glance, one would assume they are good friends, laughing together and falling easily into conversation. And I suppose maybe they are friends, or are getting there; Jack’s easy acceptance of Roman in my life sure does make it easier, that’s for sure.

  Handing over beers to the men, I go to plop down next to Roman, but he pulls me onto his lap like it’s the most normal place in the world for me to sit. Jack shoots me a cocky smirk and leans close, saying softly, “You two can use my place if you want. I’ll keep an eye on the kids.”

  I turn about twelve shades of red and Roman, the big jerk, can only sit there and chuckle. He even has the nerve to tap his beer bottle against Jack’s. At least he redeems himself when he answers, “It’s all good, man. I wouldn’t want to have to explain to Em.”

  Jack shrugs and turns back to the screen, muttering, “If I had man who looked like you, I’d take any opportunity to fuck him senseless.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, hiding my face in my hands. While I’m hiding, there’s more chuckling and more bottle tapping. Damn men.

  Jack takes off after the movie and once Roman helps me straighten up the living room and kitchen, he tugs me out onto the porch and pulls me close. “Can I bring by donuts for you and the girls in the morning?”

  My hands loop easily around his waist. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I know. But I want to.” His forehead drops down to mine. “Thanks for inviting me today.”

  “Thank you for coming. And for spoiling my child.”

  He smirks and grabs a handful of my ass. “Coming is always my pleasure.”

  Nuzzling his neck, I whisper, “Mine too.”

  We stand there embracing for a long, silent moment, taking this rare opportunity to simply enjoy holding one another. Even though I know I’ll see him in about twelve hours, that familiar pain is back in my chest, reminding me how quickly he’s managed to make me greedy for all his time. What I don’t want is to become one of those women, the type who has to know all his comings and goings, has to have him around every hour of the day. Sure, I’d love having all his time, but that’s not the least bit realistic. It sure as heck is not fair to my child, who deserves the bulk of my time. I doubt this will be the only time I’ll feel pulled too far in one direction, and I have a hunch this will be the biggest challenge for me. Not the physical, like I initially thought, not even the idea of being in a relationship. Learning how to be a part of that relationship is the real task, the real test of whether or not Roman and I will be long lasting or simply fade away into nothingness over time.

  I’m not used to feeling sexually frustrated. Hell, I’m not used to feeling frustrated about anything. Life to me has always been relatively easy. I have a great job, my family is amazing, and my personal life was never much of a hassle. I knew what I wanted, what I expected from it, and I got it. Having to be patient, remembering to bite my tongue, and constantly having to fight back the urge to snap at everyone is sure as hell out of character for me. Knowing Sabrina is worth every bit is the only thing keeping me sane.

  Six weeks. It’s been six, long, lonely, frustrating weeks since I’ve had my hands on her. Sure, we’ve shared a few hot kisses here and there, and a few times I even snuck in a grope or two, but I’ve barely gotten her to myself long enough to have a brief conversation, let alone shuck all our clothes and go at it. Between her crazy schedule and mine, life has now taken over and our relationship has had to take a backseat.

  Don’t get me wrong, sex is not all that I think about. It does encompass a majority of my thinking time, but I do really just miss being with her like we were that afternoon at my place. I miss uninterrupted conversations, being able to kiss her when I want, simply sharing the same space and sitting quietly together. Having had her, and now being forced to step aside and let life take over, has been a bitter pill for me to swallow.

  Pretty much everything that could go wrong has gone wrong the past month and a half. Emmy started school, which meant that I was suddenly back to having stacks of paperwork and crap scattered all over my office. Then we took on three new projects, two of them out of town, requiring me to travel more than I usually do. Of course there was the usual stuff that seemed to get in the way and before I knew it I looked at the calendar and six weeks had passed and not once had I even taken her out for coffee.

  All that is about to change, though. I am a man on a mission, determined to take control of all this chaos and get some alone time with my woman. I sound like a dick when I say that, but it’s the truth. We’ve spent so little amount of time together it feels like I’m right back to crushing on her from afar and that’s simply not acceptable. I’m strung so tight I’m not above paying someone to watch Emmy for the weekend; not some loser babysitter either, I’m talking about a professional security person. Which is why I’m currently stalking down the hallway toward Cruz’s office to see if he can provide any recommendations.

  Mia’s eyes widen as I near her desk and whatever she sees on my face causes her to sit upright and slightly back in her chair. “Hey, Roman. What’s going on?”

  “Need to talk to Cruz.”

  “He’s tied up on the phone right now. Can I help?”

  Growling out a curse, I lower into the chair next to her desk and tear my fingers through my hair. “Got any
recommendations for security people?”

  Concern etches her pretty features. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Need to hire someone to stay with Emmy this weekend.”

  She frowns in confusion but a moment later understanding dawns. “You’re going to hire someone to watch her so you can be alone with Sabrina?”

  “Yes. Yes I’m going to hire someone so that I can finally be alone with Sabrina.” I’m literally so tense I might bust at the seams, hands clenching and unclenching, one knee bouncing up and down. “Jesus Christ … how do people do this?”

  Mia smiles, taking my hand and attempting to soothe me. “Do what?”

  “Be parents!”

  She chuckles, obviously amused at my complete and utter lack of understanding for how the real world operates. “Well, first off, most parents live together. Share the same dinner table, the same room, the same bed each night.” One dark eyebrow lifts and realization dawns on her face. “Oh, so that’s the issue?” She immediately starts to laugh but has enough respect for my situation to slap her hand over her mouth.

  I glare at her. “There is no issue. And stop laughing at me.”

  Mia pats my shoulder like I’m her dutiful pet. “Oh, Roman, you’re so funny.”

  “Knock it off,” I growl. Hands clasped at my neck, I lean over and curse … repeatedly.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh at you.” She pats me again and leans close. “Cruz and I will invite her over for the weekend. She and I can go shopping with Amita, get our nails done, do girly things while you and Sabrina…” her eyes widen and she smirks “…talk.”

  Relief like I’ve never known before floods through my entire body until I’m lightheaded. “You’re serious right now? You’d do that?”