Page 26 of Precious Legacy
“I love you, honey.”
“Love you, too.”
I wait for her to hang up before I push my key into the lock of my apartment. I was in a good mood before she called. In all honesty, I have been all week. Since my ‘date’ with Roman, I’ve felt this subtle shift of the weight that’s been tethering my anger. No way have I forgiven Roman for what he did, though. As far as bridges that have been burned goes, not even the ashes can be turned into something useful. Though for just a few minutes, while Roman pinned me beneath him, I’d forgotten about the pain and the hurt he caused. I’d forgotten about the heartbreak and the betrayal. For just a split second, when Roman told me he didn’t want to fight anymore, a thought flashed through my mind.Me too.
Something changed in an instant, and I’m not sure if I like it. I’ve been so hellbent on hating him because I believed that would help me move on, but all it’s done is make me bitter and resentful.
Maybe it was spending time with Roman that reminded me of better times; times when I was happier, times withhim. Or maybe it was the fact he’d been willing to take a beating just to make me feel better—which worked. Whatever brought on the idea to resign my negative feelings for him, it has given me the chance to recognize how considerate Roman once was… maybestillis.
I’m not one for romanticizing anyone, least of all my ex-boyfriend, but it’s exhausting harboring so much anger. It’s tiresome holding onto the past like it defines me. I keep telling myselfit happened, get over it.And I really want to. But the depth of what I felt for Roman five years ago is still embedded in my soul. The good and the bad rub against each other, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel anymore.
After half a decade, you’d think I’d be able to move on and let the past be the past. But something is preventing me. Something I think I need.
I drop my keys on the side table by the door as soon as I step inside, only to freeze when a familiar scent wraps around me. I find myself gravitating towards the gentle clinking sound of glass, noticing a cloud of smoke coming from the living area.
Rounding the couch, my suspicions are right. “What are you doing here, Roman?”
He’s silent, not a single word parting his lips. Despite the frown on his face, he looks more than happy to finish off the whiskey bottle on my coffee table. It’s a good thing I’m not attached to the stuff, because then this interaction would be a lot more volatile. As I search for the agitation I should be feeling over Roman’s second intrusion in two weeks, I can’t. His lips press together in a flat line, his brow furrowed so deep that I want to reach forward with my thumb and rub the crease away.
His fingers tap on the worn leather of my couch; a rhythmic sound that pierces the silence. The longer it stretches, the more worried I get. Until he reaches forward, grabs my hand, and pulls me onto his lap. He nuzzles into my neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of whiskey sits heavy on his hot breath, skating past my lips when he lifts his head to gaze into my eyes.
“I found you,” he smirks, and the change in expression is so sudden it stuns me. His smile is delicious and obnoxious, yet I can’t find it in myself to hate it because the promise of something else digs into my ass. And as if to prove that point, he grinds his hips upwards. “What’s my prize?”
“How about I don’t knock you out for breaking into my apartment?” I retort, running my thumb over his split lip. I’m a little too proud about getting in some decent hits the other day. I knew he was going easy on me because the Genoveses are pro-fighters. They might not have gained a title or belt, or whateverthe victors are awarded at fights, but they know their shit and they’re good at it.
He bites down on my thumb, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for me to recognize what he really wants. He doesn’t want to talk. He doesn’t want to be placated. He wants to forget about whatever has pissed him off, and I don’t know why that turns me on so much.
Maybe it’s because I want to forget, too.
The air turns ominous, and my heart pounds at a dangerous rhythm. I’m skating close to the edge of no return,again.One of these days I’ll address my constant contradiction between my head and heart, but for now, my soaked panties are telling me to live in the moment.
Wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck, Roman pulls my face to his, brushing his soft plump lips against mine. “I’ve missed these moments,” he admits, and those few vulnerable words seem to be my undoing.
I fuse my lips onto his, ignoring all the signs that tell me I shouldn’t be doing this—again.
Roman’s hold tightens around my waist while the smash of glass sounds behind me. This kiss is consuming on a whole other level. It’s harsher than the other times we’ve kissed; urgent, intoxicating, suffocating. Roman parts my lips with his tongue to deepen it, and the rush of lust makes my pussy throb with need. Desperation clings to every parting move of our lips, not wanting to break the contact.
The taste of whiskey hits my tongue, woodsy and warm. I revel in the way the flavor rolls down my throat as I swallow, eager to taste more than residual alcohol. I know this is not the way to get over someone. Sex makes things complicated, and that’s the last thing I want. But for now, I want to revel in some good sex. Then maybe I can lay down the law—so to speak—with Roman and tell him enough is enough.
Yeah right,the little voice in my head tells me.
Roman tugs at my leather jacket, grunting in agitation when it gets stuck on my arms. He lifts me off his lap and tosses me onto the couch, peeling his own jacket and shirt off his body so effortlessly that a gasp leaves my lips when my eyes lock onto his taut body. I’ve seen it before—three days ago, to be precise. But up close, I’m able to commit every detail to memory. His abs that look like they’re chiseled from marble, his chest that’s a depiction of perfection. The tattoos that stain his skin only add to his devastating beauty. It’s no wonder this man left me in pieces. He’s one wanton glare away from obliterating me, and I’d shamelessly let him.
He runs his lips over my neck, his hands doing all the work of undressing me. I don’t stop him. Ican’t. There isn’t one bone in my body that would act willingly right now. I’m beneath my enemy, a dangerously sexy enemy.
Leaning back on his heels, he tosses my converse onto the floor before peeling my jeans down my legs. “I hope you aren’t attached to these,” he comments.
I frown, then gasp when the tear of fabric answers my silent question. I’m completely bare, my naked chest heaving with anticipation as his eyes feast on my pussy like a starved man. And she’s just as desperate for the attention.
Roman dives between my legs, running his tongue through my slick folds, alternating between long, slow licks and fast flicks. My back arches as a raspy moan breaks free, my legs parting wider to give him all the access he needs, all the accessIneed.
His warm chuckle vibrates against my pussy, sending a ripple of sensations through my body. “I love that sound,” he whispers, though his words are aimed between my legs.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp, tugging at his hair. “Don’t…stop!”
He doesn’t. He feasts on me like a man possessed, hands digging into the flesh of my thighs until I’m grinding against his face. He clamps his teeth down on my clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive nub until I shatter, my screams exploding around us. My shaky breaths aren’t enough for him, though, and my pussy throbs for more.“Roman!”
I don’t even care how desperate I sound, I can regret that later.
