Roman (Raleigh Raptors Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “It’s stunning!” Liberty said, jumping up and down.

  Savannah squealed right alongside her as we fell into a fit of hugs and giggles as I told them how Roman had proposed. How everything had fallen into place. How deep my love ran for this man.

  Roman and Nixon shook hands, holding their own version of the tale off to the side as me and my girls celebrated.

  The night flowed into a flurry of music and drinks and celebrations with friends who were genuinely happy for Roman and me. A blissful sort of contentment settled over my soul as I realized how different life was when you had someone who truly loved you by your side. Someone who didn’t want to change you or mold you into their perfect prize, but someone who loved you for you—flaws and all.

  “Dance with me?” Roman whispered into my ear, his hand grazing my hip.

  “Always,” I said, sitting down my champagne flute and following him onto the dance floor.

  He twirled me beneath his hand as we made it to a clear spot, the music soft and slow around us.

  “Do you still like me?” He asked, a free smile on his lips.

  I bit back my grin at the memory of the question we’d asked each other dozens of times over our long friendship. “Yes,” I answered. “Do you still like me?”

  Roman drew me to his chest, his hand lifting my left hand between us as he smiled down at the ring that claimed me as his.

  “Always,” he said. “That diamond looks good on you.”

  I raised my hand, wiggling my fingers so the stone caught the light as we swayed to the music. “You know,” I said, my tone teasing. “I would’ve said yes to a RingPop.”

  Roman laughed, the sound filling every inch of my soul with light.

  “I’m pretty sure you did, in third grade, but I’ll be sure to remember that on our anniversary,” he said, tucking me closer to lean his head against mine. “Future Mrs. Padilla.”

  My heart sang at his words, but my body froze at the sight just over his shoulder.

  “T?” Roman felt the shift and moved in our embrace to follow my gaze.

  Rick.

  Dancing with some cheerleader not four-feet away.

  His eyes flared, his neck tense as he looked at the ring on my finger. The one I’d just so unashamedly held up in the air. And he’d no doubt heard Roman’s words just now.

  Roman tensed beside me, but I stopped his efforts to tuck me behind him. I stared Rick down, unashamed. I loved Roman. The true kind of love someone like Rick would never understand.

  I held that vicious gaze, and I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blush. I didn’t look away. I steeled my spine and dared him to say one word to me.

  And after a few heartbeats, when he had made no move to approach, I nodded and took Roman’s hand.

  I led him off the dance floor.

  After seeing Rick, facing him without cowering or recoiling or falling into a panic attack, there was nothing more I wanted to do than to get home and thank the man who had helped me find that strength.

  “T?” Roman asked as I led him through the doors and gardens and back to his car. “You all right?”

  I smiled at him, the motion genuine, easy. “Absolutely,” I said. “I can’t wait a second longer.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to take me home.” I let the desire and love churning inside me show through my eyes, and Roman echoed my need.

  We made it to his house within twenty-minutes, greeted by an extremely excited Walt. After petting and catching up with him, Roman let him outside to go explore the grounds as he often did this time of night. He’d barely closed the back door before I threw myself at him.

  He caught me easily, his lips meeting mine in a hungry clash.

  “I love you,” I said, my heart racing against my chest as I tore my lips from his. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I couldn’t show it properly. You know that?” I titled my head, clinging to him, needing him to understand just how much he meant to me in that moment.

  “I know, Teagan,” he said, flicking his tongue over my bottom lip. “I love you, too.”

  I kissed him again, harder, and with abandon. So many revelations had hit me since falling for Roman, since realizing how much I’d always loved him. He’d given me the space to heal, to become myself again, and now I had forever to give him every piece of my heart.

  Roman set me gently on my feet, my high heels clicking against his floor.

  I grinned after kissing him one more time, then took a step back, his tie slipping through my fingers. “We never finished our dance,” I said, crossing the living room. I pushed a few buttons on my phone, connecting my music to his surround sound. A slow, sultry song filtered through the speakers, and Roman cocked a brow at me as I motioned to the armless chair on the opposite side of his couch.

  He sank into it, his eyes never losing my heated gaze.

  Fueled by champagne and love and feeling truly beautiful and seen for the first time in so, so long, I rolled my hips to the beat of the music, using my hands to slide over my body like I knew Roman would once I pulled the trigger.

  He growled when I gripped his shoulders, swaying my hips over him, teasing him, my dress flowing out around us. I let the steady pulse of the bass fill me, let the sultry strings pluck my body into a dance that teased us both.

  Roman’s fingers slipped beneath my dress, his warm touch sizzling against my bare thighs as he explored me while I danced above him. Teasing him, rolling my lace-covered heat over what was hard as granite beneath his suit pants.

  The music rose in beat, a crescendo of notes that propelled my pace over him, winding us both up until every touch, every graze, every innocent caress felt like a match to gasoline.

  “God, Teagan,” he growled. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  His words undid my restraint, my resolve, and I gave him a hazy grin as I stepped back enough to unzip my dress. The silk fluttered down my body, pooling around my ankles. I stepped out of the pile of fabric, leaving me in nothing but black lace and heels.

  Roman hurried out of his suit jacket and shirt, discarding them atop my dress. He reached for his pants, but I chided him, slowly falling my knees, my fingers on his zipper.

  His hard chest rose and fell as I unzipped his pants, tugging them and his boxer briefs down and throwing them over my shoulder until he was gloriously bare before me. I lightly dug my nails into his muscular thighs, my mouth watering at the sight of him—all smooth dark skin, carved muscles, and that perfectly hard cock that twitched when I dragged my nail down his shaft.

  Roman hissed, his hips thrusting up off the chair as I gripped him.

  The music shifted to a new song, this one with harder edges. I smiled up at him, flicking my tongue over his head, lapping up a drop of pre-come and relishing the taste of warm salt and pure Roman before standing to continue our dance.

  The hard length of him slipped between my heat, the lace drenched from wanting him as I ground against him to the beat. He gripped my ass, holding on with a growl as I planted kisses along his chest before spinning to bend slightly, giving him an eyeful of my ass as I swayed to the music.

  “Goddamn, Teagan,” he said, lightly smacking my ass. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  I smiled at him over my shoulder, my head spinning with love and power and need. My body buzzed with an electric current of mutual love and respect and desire. God, there was such a difference between giving physical pleasure from a source of love as opposed to someone demanding it, expecting it, from a source of entitlement.

  Emotion clogged my throat at the thought, at that dark truth I hadn’t been able to face for the past three years. And I spun again, dropping to my knees before Roman. My eyes met his for a moment—a question flickering behind his as he looked down at me.

  I showed him everything—my love, my appreciation for all that he’d done for me, and my apology for being blind for so damn long. His fingers tunneled through my hair, but I dropped my head and took him in my mouth.
r />   His hips thrust upward, a hiss escaping his lips as I devoured him. As I relished the feel of him between my lips, the taste of him. I showed him how much I loved him, how much I needed him, how much I wanted him. How much I would always want him.

  I moaned when his grip tightened in my hair, loving the effect I had on him, loving the way he growled as he hardened inside my mouth.

  “Teagan, fuck,” his voice was rough.

  I upped my pace, taking him as far as I could before pulling out all the way, my lips popping around his cock, only to dive right in and do it again.

  “T,” he growled. “Baby, I’m going to come.”

  I moaned my response, swirling my tongue around his head, sucking harder. Heat flooded my body at the way he growled, my eyes flickering up to his.

  “Fuck!” He hissed, throwing his head back as he found his release inside my mouth. I took it, swallowed it down with a satisfied smile as I gently pulled him from my lips.

  “Goddamn,” he said again, his breath ragged as he reached for me. He hauled me off my knees, and before I could blink, he’d switched our places. He tugged at my hips until my ass was at the edge of the seat, him on his knees before me. His fingers hooked in the lace covering me, and he slid it down and over my heels, tossing it behind him before he propped my legs over his shoulders. “My turn,” he said, the warmth from his breath hitting my center and sending warm chills over my skin.

  “Roman!” I gasped as he set his mouth on me. My heels dug into his back as he licked me from slit to clit, devouring me like I was his favorite flavor in the whole world.

  I gripped his hair with one hand and the back of the chair with the other, my body a coiled spring from all the teasing we’d done to each other.

  “Delicious,” he growled against my sensitive flesh, teasing my clit with his tongue.

  I arched against him, electricity gathering a building like a storm as he continued to tongue me.

  “Roman,” I moaned when he slid two fingers inside me, stretching me with fast pumps as he sucked my clit into his mouth. “Omigod!” I screamed, my fingers fisting his dark hair as I flew apart, his tongue swirling and flicking me through the aftershocks.

  My heart raced as he shifted beneath me, gently settling my heels on the floor on either side of him. He licked his lips, grinning up at me.

  “Come here,” I said, scooting off the chair to settle him on it. No sooner had he sat than I straddled his lap, my back to his chest, my ass teasing his cock that was apparently ready for round two.

  He trailed the tip of his tongue along my spine, and I reached between us, guiding his hard length to my slick entrance, and sank atop him to the hilt.

  “Damn,” he hissed, his hands on my hips as I took control of the pace.

  My mind spun, my breaths ragged as I rocked atop him, taking him in entirely only to pull out and do it all over again. I rode him until we were both trembling on the edge, until we were both slick with sweat. I took control, owning my pleasure and his with each raise of my hips, with each pass of our bodies as we crashed together over and over again.

  “I love you,” I said through a broken moan as my body reached that sweet edge once again.

  “I love you,” he said, his hand sliding around to play with my clit as I rocked above him.

  His words, his touch, undid me. Sent me flying apart above him, shattering me into a thousand tiny pieces. He followed right behind me, spilling inside me with a sweet heat and a growl that made my bones melt.

  Roman held me in place, his chin tucking over my shoulder to kiss up the column of my neck. “Beautiful,” he sighed against my skin.

  I leaned my head back against his shoulder, catching my breath as love and happiness filled my soul so much I was pretty sure it was healing.

  Not just from Roman’s love, but from my own love.

  Because he’d helped me love myself again. With that, I knew I could give him every piece of me—the dark and the light. The real and the raw.

  Roman had made me whole.

  And I had a lifetime to thank him for it.

  15

  Roman

  Cars packed the street in front of the row of houses Teagan and I had grown up in. Thanksgiving was always crowded, and this year was no exception. It didn’t matter how many times I offered my house up to the mess Mom endured when it came to hosting dinner, she never took me up on it.

  Just like she never let me buy her another house.

  The fact that I’d paid off this one with my signing bonus had earned me nearly a month of the silent treatment, but what was I supposed to have done with those millions? Sit tight on them and not thank my parents for raising me?

  “Thanks for helping with the dishes.” Mom smiled, putting away a stack of plates.

  “No problem.” Helping with dinner wasn’t ever allowed, Mom always looked at me like I might screw up one of her signature dishes. But doing those dishes? Yeah, that was always up for grabs.

  “How the hell did you get a parking spot?” My sister asked as she sailed through the door in a set of pale blue scrubs.

  “Mom put out a construction cone. Don’t be pissed that Matt took your spot.”

  “He what?” Her mouth dropped. “Stupid boys.”

  “Hey, you married that stupid boy.”

  She smacked my shoulder, and I flicked sudsy water at her.

  “Knock it off, Elena. You, too, Roman.” Mom looked Elena up and down and shook her head. “Tough shift?”

  “Always. Did I make it in time for pie?” Her eyes lit up.

  “Of course. I saved you a plate. It’s in the oven. You’re too thin.” Mom launched straight into another lecture as I finished up the last of the pots, glancing at the clock every so often.

  It was four-ten, which meant I had about an hour before I’d get to see Teagan.

  Funny, the wall that separated our homes had always been a sort of comfort, but today I wanted to shred the thing with my bare hands to get at her. She’d moved out two weeks ago, and though I’d spent half my nights with her, I missed her like hell.

  It only made it that much sweeter in the moments I saw her.

  “Hey!” Mom yelled into the living room as Dad switched on a game. “No football!” She launched into rapid-fire Spanish about how this was the one day-a-year she didn’t let that fly, and if he wanted any of this pie, he’d shut it off.

  Elena and I grinned but quickly schooled our faces when Mom caught us.

  “Uncle Roman!” Celia shouted, racing in from the back yard with mud covering her Chucks and a football under her arm. “The Davidsons are beating us!”

  Slowly, both Elena and I looked toward our mother.

  She shook her head.

  Celia used those big brown eyes on Mom. “Please? They brought their brother in, and he plays for the high school. It’s not fair.”

  I lifted my eyebrows at Mom.

  She sighed. “Well, we can’t have that. Get out there and show the Davidson boy how it’s done, Roman.”

  My grin was instant. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I chased my nine-year-old niece outside and reveled in the groan of the neighborhood kids who had gathered in the small field behind the houses that served as a community yard. To include one very tall high school kid on the opposition.

  The kids on my side were ecstatic.

  “Got our seventh!” Celia announced, her head held high.

  “Yes!” My seven-year-old nephew, Alex, jumped to give me a high five. I’d always been a sucker for Elena’s kids. Figured they were the closest to having kids I was ever really going to get.

  “Isn’t this against your contract or something?” The high-schooler called across the line.

  “Why don’t you let me worry about my contract. You concentrate on the scoreboard.” I took the quarterback position—it was already unfair to be playing, but putting me at running back was just too cruel, even for the smartass across the street.

  Half-an-hour later, our side of the
street was decidedly up by a handful of touchdowns, and that high school kid wasn’t looking as cocky.

  “That’s the game!” One mom called from the back porch a few houses down.

  “Guess time’s up,” I told Celia and Alex before swinging Alex up onto my shoulders.

  “Thanks for playing with us, Uncle Roman.” Celia tucked her ball under her arm—uncaring that it had been autographed by both Hendrix and Nixon because to her, they were just family.

  “Anytime.” I barely stopped myself from ruffling her hair—she’d decided she was too old for that now, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder instead.

  When I glanced toward Teagan’s back porch, I saw her leaned up against the railing, and nearly stopped breathing. She was so fucking magnificent. It wasn’t her face or that killer body. There was a light that had come back to her eyes, a fullness in her smile that hadn’t been there for years.

  I’d get to put that smile on her for the rest of our lives. How fucking lucky was I?

  “You look good with a few kids hanging off you,” she remarked with a smile, coming down her back steps in painted-on jeans and a green blouse.

  “Do I?” I hadn’t realized just how many colors she’d forsaken over the past few years until she’d started wearing them again. Every time I saw Baker, I wanted to shred him into tiny little pieces for what he’d done to her, but I knew she’d flip out if I did anything resembling vengeance, and in the end, it was only Teagan’s happiness that mattered.

  In a flash, I realized this could be our future. Thanksgiving with the parents, carrying our kids off the field. I loved Alex and Celia like they were my own. There was no reason to think it would be any different when Teagan and I decided we were ready to start a family. I understood that adoption wasn’t an option for some guys, and I didn’t judge them for it, but maybe that was because I’d never been able to have kids of my own, anyway.

  I just hoped Teagan didn’t regret choosing me, because I knew how important having kids was to her, and I wasn’t fully convinced that her, “we can adopt,” speech had been the full truth. She’d been looking forward to the whole pregnancy, labor, newborn baby thing our entire lives. For fuck’s sake, she’d shoved a pillow under her shirt and ordered me to play house when we were seven.