by S. M. Soto
With slow, methodical movements, she strips her shirt off over her head, leaving her in a sports bra. I drop down onto my haunches beside her on the bed, resting my hands on her hips. I hear her sharp intake of breath, as I begin tugging her bottoms down her legs. She bares her center for me, and I groan when I get a closer look at her pussy. Back at the garage, everything was fast and hot, but here, I want to take my time with her.
“You stole my lollipop,” she whispers, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling on it.
“I wanted to taste you.”
Her brows dip. “And you thought that was best done with a lollipop?” I hear the amusement in her voice. That’s what makes what I’m about to do next so damn perfect.
“I can show you much better than I can tell you, Sunshine.” Taking the lollipop, I drag the sticky ball of sugar down her stomach and pause just over her pubic bone. She gasps, and when I glance up at her, I see the knowing gleam in her eyes.
Taking the candy, I swirl it around her clit, enjoying the way she squirms on the bed. The way her hips ride off the sheets and she moans, begging for more. I apply more pressure, swirling through her folds, and then I pause at her entrance.
“You like that, Olivia?”
“Y-yes,” she pants.
As I slide the sucker inside her pussy, she groans, drawing a deep chuckle from my chest. “I thought so.”
I fuck her slowly, sliding the lollipop in and out, watching the way her walls grip the candy, the way her pussy glistens and drips with cum. With one last stroke, I pull it out and slide the lollipop over my tongue, tasting her.
Her eyes slam shut, and she tosses her head back onto the sheets.
“Oh, my God.”
I smirk. “You taste good, baby.” I drive my point home with a swipe of my tongue over her perfect little cunt. Her entire body spasms, and the noises spilling from her throat, bouncing off the walls in her bedroom, are driving me fucking crazy.
“Want to taste yourself?”
When she doesn’t say no, I drag the lollipop across her lips, until she opens and then slides it over her tongue. There’s never been a more perfect sight than this one. My balls draw up, and unable to help myself any longer, I strip out of my clothes and slide between her legs, pressing my cock against her entrance. When I slide inside her, my eyes slam closed, and her walls grip me like a vise.
Sex with this woman is addictive. Everything about her is addictive, so addictive that I can’t get enough of her body, even well into the night.
“Softly”—Clairo
I wake the next morning, disappointed that the spot next to me on the bed is empty. Raising my arms over my head, I stretch, relishing in the slight sting between my legs. Last night was…like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Roman is like no one I’ve experienced before. Because that’s exactly what he is, a whole damn experience.
Back when I was with Reid, I once thought our sex life was what dreams were made of. It turns out, he doesn’t hold a candle to my neighbor. Not that I expected him to anyway. I’ve never felt so connected and downright consumed by a person the way I do with Roman.
As I pad from the bedroom to the bathroom, I silently thank my lucky stars that today is my day off. I can’t even imagine trying to focus on work, while images of last night keep flashing through my mind. The stiffness radiating from my lower body is also another delicious reminder of last night.
I try not to let it bother me that I woke up alone after everything that happened last night. It’s not like I would expect a cute note from a man like Roman. He doesn’t really seem like the type. I shower and dress quickly, trying not to let my worries get the best of me. As I’m padding down the hall, I freeze, when I hear a thud outside. My heart jumps into my throat, and fear settles in my gut.
Slowly, I make my way down the hall, toward the living room. My gaze immediately flies to my newly installed window, and I can’t help the slight upturn of my lips. It gets wiped off my face when I spot a large form outside the window.
Without really thinking it through, I run to the front door and throw it open. I stand on the porch in my bare feet, staring at the scene before me, my jaw unhinged in shock.
“Rome?”
He pauses when he hears me and casts a glance at me over his shoulder. He’s in another one of those black T-shirts that hugs his biceps to perfection. That’s not what has me rooted to the spot in shock, though. It’s the fact that there’s a crate of brand-new tulips beside him, and right next to that are the old ones that had been stomped to death.
“Is this a dream?”
He chuckles. The sound is warm and raspy, as it travels through my body in waves. “This the shit you dream of, babe?”
I swallow thickly, my heart kicking up a few notches at the name. After sleeping together, the term suddenly takes on a whole new meaning in my head. “You’re calling me, babe?” I squeak.
Roman stands to his full height, wiping his filthy hands on his pants, as he closes the distance between us. He doesn’t make any move to touch me, but as I stare in his eyes, I can practically feel the heat brewing there. I can feel his need. It rivals my own. There’s a sharp bark, and it’s then I notice Max, standing dutifully beside his owner, watching me with his head cocked to the side.
“Pretty sure this isn’t the first time I’ve called you that. Would you rather I call you something else?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I like babe. Babe is fine. Babe is perfect.”
He smirks, obviously knowing the effect he’s having on me. I glance, around his large form, at the brand-new flowers that Max is now sniffing. He turns away from them, clearly uninterested.
“Dumb question, I know, but…what exactly are you doing?”
“Bought you new flowers.”
I scratch at the back of my neck. “You do this a lot? Buy flowers and plant them for people in their front lawn?”
His smile is crooked, revealing that slight dimple in his cheek, and it causes my stomach to flip, as if I’ve just gone through a dip on a roller coaster. “Not usually, no. Though, I have planted half of Josie’s garden for her.”
I raise my brows, fighting back a smile. “Oh, really?” I glance across the street at the woman in question. The stamp of disapproval on her face is, ever present, as she stares at us. “So, I have quite the competition then?”
“I’d say so.”
I lose the battle and burst into laughter. “You know, when you aren’t being a jerk, you’re kind of funny.”
He shrugs, fighting back his own laughter. “It’s a gift.”
I roll my eyes. “How long have you been up doing this? I can, uh, I can make you breakfast, if that’s maybe something you’d want.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually gotta get going in a bit anyway.”
I don’t mean for it to, but the goofy smile I was wearing, suddenly drops off my face, and I shift awkwardly on my feet. I feel like an idiot for assuming he’d want to have breakfast together after last night. I mean, so what if he replaced my window, stayed the night, and is planting new flowers for me? This is normal male behavior. This is casual. I can handle this.
“Oh. Right. Yeah. Totally.” I’m babbling one-word answers in quick succession. I realize I probably sound like an idiot, but I can’t seem to stop talking. “You can leave the flowers if you have some place to be. I can get to them later.” I force a smile and spin on my heels, heading back inside, before I make myself look like an even bigger shithead in front of him.
Roman calls out after me, but I’m already shutting the front door behind me. I busy myself in the kitchen, making breakfast, and then I move on to the bedroom. I change my sheets and do a load of laundry, all in the hopes it’ll help take my mind off Roman. I shouldn’t let it bother me that he didn’t want to have breakfast with me. This is my problem. This is why doing anything casual isn’t meant for women like me. We think too much. Worry too much. The attraction I feel toward Rome is dangerous—not
because I don’t trust him, but because I don’t trust myself. I’m not at a place in my life where I can drag someone else into my mess. I’ve done it, once before, in my last relationship, and it didn’t turn out great.
I have nothing to offer but the here and now. I can’t promise a future, because my future isn’t promised. That is why I moved here and started over. Not to find love, but to live the best life I can, while I am still able to.
Feeling weighed down by my thoughts, I pause, in front of my makeshift reading nook, and glance at Roman’s house. A shocked gasp flies past my lips, and I jump in surprise. He’s been standing there for who knows how long watching me. His hands are curled around the window ledge. He’s shirtless and looks freshly showered. His dark hair is hanging over his face.
Swallowing thickly, I push open the window and perch my hip on the nook, mirroring him.
“I want to show you something.” His voice travels across the small space between our fence and windows. I swallow, opting for humor.
“You plan to show me from this window?”
His mouth quirks. “You dressed?”
I nod, trapping my bottom lip between my teeth in anticipation.
“Meet me out front.”
Slamming the window shut, I slip my shoes on and lock up behind me. When I pad down the porch steps, Max is already there, jumping up on my legs.
“Hey, buddy.” I scratch behind his ears, enjoying the way he leans into my touch, as if he can’t get enough of me. At the sharp whistle from his owner, Max runs back to Roman who lets him inside the house.
“So, what is it you’re showing me?” I ask, following him into the garage, toward his car. He opens the passenger side door for me, helping me in.
“You’ll see.”
We ride in silence, and my confusion over what’s going on between us only grows, when he leaves Campbell and keeps going south. When I see the signs for Oakland, my eyes widen. As I shoot a wary glance at him, the question is on the tip of my tongue.
He must know I’m on the verge of asking, because he answers for me. “On my days off, I always come down here to visit my brother. I didn’t turn down breakfast with you to be a dick.”
My eyes slam shut. “Rome. You didn’t have to bring me here for this. I’m such a child. I thought you were just blowing me off, but I get it now.”
His grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m bringing you along because I want to.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, wrapping around my heart. “This is where you grew up?” I ask, glancing out the windows, taking in the dingy neighborhood. The sky is gloomier here than it was back in Campbell.
“Pretty much.”
There’s a tightness to his voice, as though he’s having a hard time admitting this is where he came from. Or maybe it’s just him suppressing all the awful memories.
“Are you guys still in contact with your mother?”
“No.” His answer is short and clipped. I lean back in the seat, deciding to stop my questions, until he’s ready to talk.
We drive for another fifteen minutes, before Rome pulls to a stop in front of a building, that has me working overtime to hide my cringe. The weeds are overgrown out front. The place looks like it’s a halfway house, and the fact that someone is living here with children? That’s a scary prospect.
“I’ll be back in a few.”
I watch him go. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t there earlier. His gait is less fluid than it usually is. For the most part, the neighborhood seems quieter than I was expecting. There’s a group of men loitering on the corner, glancing our way, but they don’t seem too interested in us.
There’s suddenly a loud uproar of voices, and when I glance back at the building, I see why. The front door opens and closes behind Roman. Just from the door being opened, the inside of that place sounds like someone is having a concert inside. Hell, if it’s loud from out here, I can’t imagine what it’s like inside.
I straighten in my seat, a smile breaking out across my face, when Roman walks out of the building with his arm slung around a young kid’s shoulders. I know Roman said Ryder is his half-brother, but just looking at them together like this, side by side, they look like near carbon copies of each other. The other difference is the obvious age difference and their builds. His little brother’s hair is a few shades lighter than Roman’s, and his skin is a shade lighter. I can’t tell if that’s just genetics from his father or if he just isn’t getting enough sun in that place.
Once they’re a few feet away from the car, I throw open the door and get out. Surprise alights the young boy’s face. He glances up at his brother, both of them pausing before me.
“Hi, Ryder. I’m Olivia, your brother’s neighbor. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
To my surprise, a smile steals over his face. He glances up at his older brother, who is rolling his eyes.
“And you said you didn’t like her.” Ryder snickers under his breath.
Roman hides his grin. “Shut up.”
“Believe me, I didn’t like him much at first either. Your brother is a bit of an acquired taste. Definitely not for everyone.”
Ryder bursts out laughing, as he climbs into the back seat. I’m just about to get in the car, when my gaze snags on Roman’s. He’s watching me, a softness in his eyes that I’ve yet to witness. It has glitter bursting in my chest. The sensation is light and airy, and for once, I welcome it instead of tamping it down.
Roman and his little brother catch up on the way to go eat. Ryder said it’s a tradition for them to go out for pizza, then ice cream. I listen in on their conversation, enjoying their slight bickering. Even though they’re siblings, it’s easy to tell, just seeing how he interacts with Ryder, how he takes on the parental role with such ease. Sure, he acts like an older brother, but he also holds the weight on his shoulders, as though he’s a parent. And he practically is. He raised his little brother when his mother couldn’t. I can’t help but respect him. Both of them.
We settle into a booth at the restaurant. While Roman heads to the front to order for us, I hang back with Ryder.
“How long have you guys been hanging out?” he asks.
“Not long. Being the new neighbor and all, there were a few long weeks, where I’m sure your brother hated me.”
“He talked about you a lot. He doesn’t hate you.”
“Hate is such a strong word. Maybe severely dislike is better?”
Ryder laughs and shakes his head at me. “He likes you. He wouldn’t bring you here if he didn’t.”
My heart does a somersault. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re the first girl he’s ever brought around me.”
I scoff, brushing that off, trying not to let his words get to me. “I’m sure that’s not true. He’s probably just busy. He wants to spend his time with you.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But he purposely doesn’t date. I know my brother. Just like I know you mean something to him if you’re here.”
I’m stunned into silence over Ryder’s words. I shake it off when Roman comes back, not wanting to alert him that we were talking about him. For the rest of the meal, we laugh and talk, but I can’t get Ryder’s words out of my head. I shouldn’t get my hopes up over this. I shouldn’t find joy in this. But I do. God, I do.
Knowing what I know about Roman, it does something to my heart—the realization that maybe he feels something for me after all. Even if it’s just a minuscule thing.
But with all those good feelings comes the guilt. Guilt because I’m lying about myself. I’m keeping secrets from him, and after the life he’s had, he doesn’t need any more surprises. Not like the ones my news could potentially give him. Throughout the rest of the day, my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much. I didn’t think I’d enjoy spending the day with a kid and a grown man, but I have. Sometimes, when he doesn’t think I am watching, I catch Roman staring or watching me with an odd look on his face. It is a
mixture of confusion and something else I can’t quite name.
On the way home, a yawn rips from my chest. “Thank you for bringing me today. I had fun.”
“You’re good with him.”
“Ryder?” I smile and shrug. “He’s easy to be around. Well-mannered. I like him. Maybe even more than I like you.”
The corner of his mouth inches into a crooked grin. “Oh, I’m sure.”
“Any news from the social worker?”
“She said to expect a call this next week, so I guess we’ll find out then.”
Reaching over, I place my hand over his that’s resting on the gearshift. “This is going to happen for you, Rome. For both of you.”
He casts a quick glance my way. It’s short-lived but filled with everything he’s unable to put into words.
When we get back to his place, I linger, unsure if I should head home, stick around with him, or wait for him to ask me to stay. He’s leaning against the car, those thick arms crossed over his broad chest, as he watches me, making me uncomfortable with the weight and intensity of his gaze.
“I should probably head home now,” I offer weakly.
When Roman doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at me, I turn on my heels and force myself to walk away. Warmth suddenly encloses around my arm, and I’m pulled back into the hard planes of his body.
“Stay.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. “You’re probably tired.”
“I could be running on no sleep for days at a time, and I’d still find a way inside you, Oliva.”
I whimper.
Turning in his arms, I feel Roman’s hands slide around my waist, tugging me flush against him. His heat envelops me. His intoxicating scent is a drug. My nipples pebble against my top in anticipation, and he growls, almost as though he can feel it.
With an animalistic need I’ve never felt before, Rome digs his fingers into my hair and drags my mouth up to his. He takes my lips savagely, leaving me boneless. I fall into him. My lips and body surrender to him.
