Page 2 of Precious Legacy
Alvaro retracts his hand, returning his attention to Roman, who is heading straight towards us. “Keep telling yourself that, sis. Maybe one of these days you’ll believe it.”
“Happy Birthday, bro,” Roman greets my brother with a fist bump and bro hug. Then he scours those bright blue eyes over my body, and every inch of my skin responds with abetraying burn, a desire that I try to push as far away from my consciousness as possible. “Lani,” he smirks.
My back stiffens. “Alanis,” I correct through gritted teeth.
With an awkward nod, my brother retreats. His expensive shoes clip the hardwood floor as he heads towards the bar, unable to leave the toxic tension quick enough.
I gulp back my vexed frustration. The urge to slam the damn champagne bottle over Roman’s head just so I can get away from him is too strong to ignore. Sure, it’s violent, but the damage it’d inflict would be nothing compared to how he left me.
Roman clearly has other ideas, though. He circles my figure with his own like I’m prey. His vibrant irises darken as they tour my neck, my chest. As his footsteps prowl behind me, I feel his hand drag down my waist, his touch leaving a path of scalding desire down my side. “Have I ever mentioned red looks good on you, Presh?”
I wince at the nickname, closing my eyes as his manly scent surrounds me. “Fuck off, Roman.”
Hot breaths suddenly kiss my ear. Roman’s proximity is deliciously suffocating; a confusing storm of lust and loathing that spins me around until I’m dizzy. It doesn’t help that beneath that cocky, disgustingly confident and nauseating mask, is a man who’s fuckinggreatin bed. I just have to remember why I need to steer clear.
He never really loved you.
“You know how much I love it when you talk dirty,” Roman whispers before sliding his hot tongue behind my ear.
I suppress the shiver that crawls up my spine, the hairs on my arms refusing to obey my demand not to react. With my body standing rigid and resolute, I grit my teeth and reply over my shoulder, “Go bother someone else.”
“Why would I do that, Presh?” His fingertips gently caress my bare arm, starting from my shoulder and coaxing every hair to stand to attention as his touch descends to my wrist. When he reaches my palm, his little finger links with mine; a sharp reminder of our past. “You’re the only person in this room I want,” he purrs.
I snatch my hand away, feeling the frigid ache of his vanishing touch. I’m not about to let him get close again. I can’t afford to.
Never again.
“Want to know a secret?” Roman rasps in my ear as he leers over my shoulder from behind. His hand squeezes my hip before dropping down the curve of my ass.
Yes.“No.”
“I enjoy bothering you the most.”
I suck in a breath when his palm tours my thigh, landing on the one thing I never leave home without.
“How the hell did you get this in here?” he tuts, fingers thrumming against the piece holstered to my thigh.
I swing my arm around, hand clutching his wrist as I yank it away and twist it back. He winces slightly, but that’s about as much emotion as this asshole will ever show, so I go for the jugular, reminding him just how much I hate him.
“Does it matter? The only person I intend to use it on is you.”
“So hostile,” he breathes out heavily, his other hand planting firmly on my ass and pulling me close to him. “You know I enjoy your fight.”
I do. I also know how much he enjoys fucking everything up, taking whatever he wants and leaving me with nothing. I’m all too familiar with how much enjoyment he takes from obliterating everything good in his life.
“Go fight someone else,” I grit out.
“I don’t want to fight. I want to dance,” he winks.
I shove him away, using as much force as I can muster without causing a scene. “In your fucking dreams,” I hiss.
With only two steps, Roman presses his chest flush with mine, his forehead pushing against my own and our lips so close to one another’s that any sudden move could result in catastrophe. A surge of panic blended with excitement pools in my stomach, dropping to the throbbing pulse between my legs.
I hate how responsive I am to him, even after everything he did. It’s like I can’t stay away—no matter how broken he left me, I’m always craving more. My body betrays me, my brain doesn’t know what to do anymore, especially when Roman leans forward to press his lips to my cheek, searing his promise into my skin.
“You’re always in them,” he whispers. Confidence fixes his posture as he moves away from me, and his smile stretches those detestably perfect lips. Another wink makes my heart skip a beat before he glides past me and towards my brother—who’s now throwing back shots with Haldon at the bar.
There’s no way I can stand to be here anymore. Not while Roman is on the prowl, not while I’m in his line of sight. Not when I know he will make every effort to piss me off tonight, just like he does every time I see him.
