The noise vibrates through me, and I wonder what I did to make him angry.
I force myself to dry off and find a cotton white t-shirt and pair of boxers on the counter. I slip on the oversized t-shirt, relishing in the soft fabric against my skin. It ends just above my knees, so it looks more like a dress. I grab the boxers and pull them on next, rolling the waistband until they're somewhat on, then wrap my long, dark brown hair in a towel.
I pick up my discarded dress and place it on the counter before walking to the door. He sits on the edge of the bed, his arms folded over his broad chest. When I walk toward him on unsteady feet, he gets up and steps aside, giving me room to lay back down.
“You should try to get some sleep. If you need anything, I’m in the bedroom across the hall.” He starts to walk out the door, and the thought of being alone again scares me enough to give me the courage to speak.
“Please stay,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He stops mid-step, giving me an icy glare. “I don’t know what you think this is, but I don’t have the time or patience to babysit you. You are here because my brother has nowhere else to put you—that’s it.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. I want to ask him why he’s so mad, or what I did wrong, but he storms out of the room, closing the door behind him before I can.
I feel beyond alone right now, like I’m back in that cell, only it’s worse because there is someone for me to talk too now. There is no noise apart from my breathing and too fast heartbeat. I remain in the bed, the quilt tucked up to my cheeks, trying to let go of the irrational fear of being alone.
I shouldn’t care. Not really. It’s not Roman’s job to keep me company, so his words, though cold, aren’t false. I should be glad I’m here now, in this nice house, in a comfortable bed, instead of on the cot in the cell. All of this could’ve ended in a much worse way than me simply being alone, but it’s not enough for me.
I try to calm myself. I try to tell myself to just forget about the things plaguing my mind, but I can’t. The emptiness of the room threatens to swallow me whole, and I just can’t take it anymore. My mind is my worst enemy, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to escape it. I lay on the bed, watching as the room grows darker and darker.
Each passing second makes it harder and harder to breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating, and I don’t understand why. I was alone in that cell for days without caring, but being alone inside this room terrifies me.
Refusing to stay another second, I get up and tiptoe to the door. I open it quietly and stick my head out into the dimly lit hallway. I look left, then right. Roman isn’t anywhere in sight, so I step out into the hall and dart to the door across from mine.
My heart speeds up inside my chest. It pounds against my ribcage painfully. My hands shake as I raise one and knock on the door. Worry fills my gut when no one answers.
The thought of him leaving me here alone in this house consumes me, shaking my body to the core with fear. Before I can stop myself, my hand is on the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open. My eyes widen at my actions, and I take in the room before me.
The complete darkness is broken up by the hallway light now spilling into the room. I close the door behind me, and my feet move on their own, carrying me farther into the bedroom—Roman’s bedroom.
This is a bad idea. I should turn around right now and run back into my room. But…I can’t. My body craves this man’s presence, like an invisible force is pulling me toward him.
My feet move very slowly until I reach his bed. It’s easy to tell that he’s in it because I can make out his form beneath the sheets, the moon letting a sliver of light in through the window across the room. I run my fingers against the silky sheets as my gaze roams over Roman’s body. He has a blanket pulled up to his chin, covering his muscular chest.
His face is relaxed, making him look younger. I don't know how old he is, but right now, he doesn't look much older than me. I have this foolish urge to trace the contours of his face, to feel his skin beneath my touch. His lips are slightly parted, and I imagine myself kissing him…tasting him. I have no idea where this is coming from. I’ve never had these kinds of thoughts about a man before. Sex, attraction—it’s all a foreign concept to me.
The closer I get to him, the more at ease I feel. For a moment, I stand there, unsure of what I should do next. Do I wake him? I nibble on my bottom lip. He looks so peaceful...and would probably just send me back to my room—the last place I want to be right now.
I yawn. All I want to do is sleep. I eye the bed, contemplating the repercussions of sleeping beside him. What’s the worst that could happen?
Pushing the fear down, I quietly and carefully crawl into the bed, settling beside him. His scent washes over me, and a calmness encompasses my body. I curl up into a tiny ball on top of the blanket, pulling only a corner of the blanket over me. As soon as I relax into the mattress, I start to drift off to sleep, and for once, I don’t feel so alone.
Chapter Three
Roman
I know something is off before I even open my eyes. My bed feels different, my blanket doesn’t smell the same—it’s as if the room has been tainted by something. I open my eyes and swing my gaze around the room. My hands curl into the bedsheets, and I can’t shake the strange feeling that something is off. I’m seconds away from throwing the covers back and getting out of bed when my ear perk up at a noise—a tiny whimper. A feminine one, which can’t be right. I didn’t have anyone here with me last night, anyone but…
I twist my body toward the noise. There, right beside me, lies Sophie, asleep, curled up in a tiny ball, in my bed, on top of the blankets. Her dark brown hair is draped over her face, and her chest rises and falls gently beneath my shirt, which swallows her entire body. As the shock seeps away, anger starts to take root. I told her I wasn’t her fucking babysitter, that I wasn’t going to stay with her and coddle her, but she snuck in here and did it anyway.
What the fuck is she thinking?
Did she try to wake me up? The fucking Adderall I take is great for keeping me awake during the day, but a fucking drag for putting me in a coma once I’m out. I’m not sure how I should feel about her sneaking in here. Part of me wants to throttle her, and…well, the other wants to protect her, pull her into my chest, and tell her no one will ever hurt her again.
Anger rushes to the surface at the mere thought of being anything more than a fucking landlord for this girl. She’s clearly not capable of fucking, and that’s all I’m good for. I can’t be thinking about protecting her or holding her in my arms.
I grit my teeth and force myself out of the bed. Blood pumps through my veins, my heart beating faster and faster as I stare long and hard at the sleeping girl in my bed. I know what I have to do next, and for some stupid fucking reason, I don’t like it. It should be easy for me to wake her up, yell at her, and send her back to her room, but something tells me it won’t be that easy.
I scrub a hand down my face in frustration, cursing my brother for giving her to me and making her my responsibility. I hope he finds someone else to pawn her off to—and fast. My patience for bullshit has surpassed. Then again, the mere thought of her going somewhere else doesn’t sit well with me, and that just makes me angrier.
Her being here is fucking with my head, my emotions, and my fucking life. I feel so fucking irritated, I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I decide to take a cold shower to calm the storm raging inside me.
I stomp into the bathroom and slam the door closed behind me before I strip out of my boxers. Before I do anything else, I open the medicine cabinet and get out my pill bottle. Taking two Adderalls out, I pop them in my mouth and swallow them with some water from the tap.
I turn the shower on cold and step under the spray, letting the stark drop in temperature shock my nervous system. I clench my jaw as the cold water slaps against my skin. It’s like razor blades gliding across my flesh. Once my body reaches the point of shaki
ng, I turn the water to warm, letting the heat soothe away the tension.
After my shower, I dry off and brush my teeth before heading back into the bedroom. I don’t wrap a towel around my waist on purpose. By now, she’s either come to her senses and left my room or she’s about to get a show.
I open the door and find her sitting on my bed. Show it is. The moment she sees me stroll in, her big blue eyes go wide and her whole body visibly stiffens. Her gaze automatically drops to my dick, and her soft white cheeks turn a bright pink. As soon as she knows I’ve spotted her, she looks away, keeping her eyes trained on some invisible spot on the floor.
Stepping right into her line of vision, I take my cock and give it a good stroke. I feel fucking guilty as I do it, but I push the stupid feeling away. I’m a bastard, an asshole, and I have a fucking point to prove.
She raises her head, her eyes peering into mine.
“W-What—What are you doing?” she whispers, like someone else might hear her.
“The only reason I let girls in my room is to fuck them, and even then, I don’t let them spend the night. So, unless you’re here to fuck, or at least suck my dick, I’d advise you to get the fuck out of my bed. Don’t show back up in this bed unless you want my cock shoved somewhere inside you,” I sneer.
She flinches at my words, her hands clutching the sheets, but she doesn’t make a move to leave. I expected her to jump up from the bed and run out of here screaming like there was a fire, but she just remains staring at me.
Her eyes are filled with fear and something else…something I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s lurking just beneath the surface, threatening to transform that fear into lust, or maybe even need. For a moment, I think she might be interested in what I just told her, and that alone makes my heartbeat faster, sparking curiosity.
“You ever fuck a man before?” I growl, watching her cheeks turn a soft petal pink.
She answers me with a shake of her head, but I want to hear her say the word.
“Yes or no, or I’m going to assume you have and that might just change the way this entire thing goes.” I don’t plan to fuck her, but she doesn’t know that.
“No,” she whispers, and I wonder why the fuck she’s still sitting in here on my bed when it’s obvious she’s scared of me. Maybe she wants to tempt me, see how far I’ll go, and that’s fine with me. It’s easy for me to be an asshole. Everything else is hard.
I walk right up to the bed and continue to stroke myself. Her eyes move from my face down to my groin. Her gaze turns curious when it lifts back to mine. I smirk.
“Have you ever touched a cock before.”
“No,” she answers again. The saliva turns to concrete in my throat. She’s looking at me with doe eyes, as if she doesn’t understand why I’m asking her all these questions. It’s irritating as fuck knowing how fucking pure she is, how big of a temptation she’s going to be for me.
“Well, if you don’t get your ass off my bed, I’m going to shove mine down your throat.” Her gaze widens with fear, and without ever breaking eye contact, she stands on wobbly legs and takes small hesitant steps past me like I may reach out and grab her and toss her onto the bed. She doesn’t know I would truly never hurt her—and it needs to stay that way.
She continues out of the room at a normal pace, closing the bedroom door quietly behind her. And just like that, it’s as if she was never here—but she was. Her sweet scent fills my nostrils, reminding me she was.
What the fuck was that? I shake my head. I’m now hard as a rock and have no way but my fucking hand to relieve myself. Fuck. I’m a man, and I’ve never been one to stop myself from enjoying the pleasure of sex.
A hiss slips past my lips as I start stroking myself again. My eyes drift closed, and I suck in a deep breath, letting her intoxicating scent flood my system. I think about how she just looked at me when she walked past me. Maybe she’ll come back into my room? Maybe she’ll take me up on my offer and suck my cock?
The thought of her perfect plump lips wrapped around my cock has me grunting into the room. What would she do if she walked in now? I stroke myself harder as I think about how she was just lying right beside me all night.
I could have just reached over and fucked her any time. I imagine her whimpering and moaning in my arms and how she would call out my name in pleasure as I slipped in and out of her virgin channel. A tingle of pleasure starts to build in the bottom of my spine and my balls draw together as I think about her naked body in the shower, how my hands felt on her bare skin and how I wanted to touch every inch of exposed skin. It’s a shit thing to think, but I never promised to be a saint, and beneath all the fucked up pieces of her soul, she’s still a woman—a very beautiful women.
I bite my bottom lip, my teeth sinking into the flesh as I pump my shaft harder. Two more strokes and I explode, the orgasm ripping through me with brute force. My muscles tense, and my entire body shakes as I come all over the bed sheet so close to where Sophie was just curled up not too long ago. An image of her covered in my cum enters my mind. I stroke myself a few more times, trying to elongate the pleasure.
Then, I sigh, realizing I beat off to the image and thoughts of her.
How the fuck has she weaseled her way under my skin so fast? I shake my head and pull the sheet off the bed. Throwing it into the corner, I go back to the bathroom to clean my sticky cum off my hand, unable to stop wondering what my cum would look like on her creamy skin. Fuck, I need to stop thinking about this chick. She’s a virgin. I don't fuck virgins. Not that I'd fuck her anyway. She's not my type. At least…that's what I'm going to keep telling myself.
I pull on some shorts and make my way out into the kitchen. I need to eat something before the pills kick in and I lose my fucking appetite. I take two high calorie protein shakes out of the fridge, screw off the lid of the first one, and down it in one sip. Opening the second one, I drink on it slower.
I try to concentrate on my plans for the day. I need to go to the gym, work out a little, then Ivan wants me to come by the compound again.
I almost growl at the thought. I hope the fucker doesn't expect me to wear a suit today…or any other day. It's not happening. I run through my schedule in my head once more, but images of the sweet angel in my guest room sneak into my thoughts.
I wonder what her story is. Who gave her the bruises on her back?
I down the rest of the shake and toss it into the trash. I can already feel the Adderall kicking in, my aggression fading into a fuzzy feeling that leaves me somewhat content. Guilt tickles my senses. I shouldn't be taking the fucking pills, but they give me the edge I need to keep winning fights and that's the only thing that truly matters to me.
Grabbing another shake from the fridge, I head back toward the guest room and open the door without bothering to knock. She overstepped my boundaries by sneaking into my bedroom and sleeping in my bed without my knowledge, so it’s only fair I overstep hers.
My steps falter just inside the door when I find her sitting on the bed, her eyes locked on mine. The fear I saw in them earlier has vanished. She looks content, maybe even at peace. The dark circles under her eyes have faded, making her face seem brighter. I step right up to the side of the bed and hold the bottle out to her.
“Drink this,” I order. “If you’re still hungry after that, you can go to the kitchen and get yourself whatever you want. Room service ends today.”
“Uh, okay…” She seems taken back by my tone. “Thank you.” She takes the bottle from my hand, our fingers touching briefly. As soon as her skin touches mine, an electric current runs through me and into her, connecting us in some way.
I pull my hand away quickly, not wanting her to notice, but when I look at her, it’s clear she felt the same thing. My eyes roam over her body. She's still wearing my shirt, and though I don't mind, I don't think that's what she'll want to wear forever. I imagine eventually she’ll want to go out places and do things, and she can’t do either wearing my shirt as a dress.
> “I'm going to get ahold of Ivan and have his girlfriend take you shopping.”
“I don't have any money.” She looks away nervously.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for it.” I grab for my wallet without thought, pull out the first credit card I find, and toss it onto the mattress. I watch as her gaze moves down to the piece of plastic. If she doesn’t take it, I’m going to pick it up and put it in her fucking hand. One way or another, she’s using the card and buying herself something.
“I can’t take that…”
“You can, and you will. Violet’s going to be here soon to get you. You’re going to get some clothes and whatever else the fuck you want, got it?” I give her a look that dares her to defy me on this. It’ll be a battle she’ll never win. Her mouth opens as if she wants to say no, but I hold up a finger to my lips, shaking my head.
“Just take the damn card and buy yourself some fucking clothes,” I grit out.
She nods a second later, finally coming to her senses. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” I nod, feeling the air grow thick between us. I need to get out of this room and away from her.
I don’t know what the fuck it is about this girl, but she’s got my insides twisting into knots. I want to make her feel better, secure, happy, and at the same time, I want to push her away. I don’t have any female friends. The only time I’m around them is if they’re under me and I’m inside them, so interacting with Sophie without sex being involved puts me on edge.
She’s the absolute exception to all my rules because my brother has made her my responsibility, but that doesn’t mean I need to be nice to her, right? It doesn’t mean I need to care about her beyond the means of her eating and having a place to lay her pretty little head.
I can’t have her or anybody else thinking I’m some weak bastard...even if it makes me feel like an asshole for being a douche to her. She doesn’t deserve it, especially after what she’s been through, but it’s better to treat her like shit than have her wanting to get close to me. I don’t understand why, but she wants to. Why the hell else would she have crawled into my bed last night?
Tame Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 5) Page 3