All I can think about is her…
A second away from turning the entire fucking house upside down, I run into the same chick from my bedroom...again. I’m about to throw her out the fucking door when she lifts her finger and points toward the front door.
“The girl, the one I’m assuming you’re looking for... she went that way,” whatever-her-fucking-name-is whispers.
“She went out that door?” I ask to confirm. If she’s lying to me, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. She nods, and that’s all the confirmation I need.
I’m so fucking glad I didn’t have my pants off yet—for several reasons—but most being that I wouldn’t have gotten out of the bedroom fast enough to stop that fucker from hurting her. I run down the driveway, my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete.
“Sophie!” I call out into the fall air.
I stop at the bottom of my driveway, looking left, then right. Panic grips ahold of my insides, twisting them into a knot. I don’t see her anywhere. Would she just run away—away from me, from the safety I provide?
Have I hurt her so badly she’d rather risk being on her own? I exhale a ragged breath and run my hands through my hair as I lean forward, resting my arms against my knees.
Where the fuck could she have gone? Left or right? She could have gone either fucking way. I look over to the right again, feeling compelled to do so. I stare long and hard, then something catches my eyes.
It’s not much, and hell, it could be a figment of my imagination, but something moved behind a tree in one of my neighbor’s yards way off in the distance. That’s enough for me and I head off in that direction Gravel bites into the bottoms of my feet. I grit my teeth through the pain. If she’s out here, I’m going to find her.
When I get closer to the large oak tree, I slow down, not wanting to scare her if she really is hiding behind it. I hear some quiet sobs from close by and I know my suspicions are right.
I prowl around the street like a cat. I don’t want to scare her, but there’s no fucking way she’s getting away from me.
“Sophie,” I say, my voice surprisingly calm. She’s sitting with her back against the tree, her legs pulled up to her chest, her face buried into her folded arms. I kneel beside her and lay a hand on her shoulder. I know I technically don’t have anything to apologize for—it’s not like Sophie and I are an item or this is anything more than a favor for my brother—but I feel the need to do so anyway.
“I’m sorry.” The words fall from my lips, and even though I mean them, I wish I could give her more. I feel like whatever I say at this point is just not enough. I need to show her how much she means to me but I can’t do that unless I let her in...unless I let my guard down.
She lifts her head just a little to look up at me, her eyes are red and swollen and though hard to make out I see the bruise on her face. I inhale sharply at the sight, wanting to go back in time and kill the fucker all over again. An undeniable urge to wrap her up and keep her protected from everything in the world fills me, even though I know I can’t.
I might be able to protect her from others, but who is going to protect her from me? In the end, I’m the worst of all. I’ve hurt her the most today.
“I feel safe with you and all you do is push me away.” Tears stain her cheeks, and anguish saturates her words. She’s hurting, and it’s all my fucking fault.
“It’s what I do, Sophie. It’s all I know. I don’t let anyone in,” I admit for the first time ever.
“Why? Why do you push everyone away?”
“If you don’t let anyone close, it doesn’t hurt when you lose them.” I don't have to see a shrink to know this is what I’m doing. I keep everybody at arm’s length.
“Who did you lose?” Sophie asks, eyes wide. I’m not surprised she put one and one together. She’s a smart girl, and she deserves an answer.
“My sister,” I answer, my voice void of any emotion. Even after all these years, the memory of losing her still rips my insides apart. “She died when she was just a little girl. I was still a kid myself. Losing her killed me…it killed my parents too.”
“I’m sorry, Roman…I really am, but what kind of life are you going to have if you never let anyone close?”
I shrug. “It’s worked well thus far.”
“But are you happy?” Of course not. I don’t tell her that, though. There is no happiness for me. The drugs make life bearable…easy, but happy? Fuck no.
She makes me happy. When I’m with her, I feel like I don’t need the drugs anymore. Being with her feels like freedom.
“It doesn't matter, Sophie.”
“But it does,” she whispers. “What about your parents?”
“My mom drank herself to death after Mira died, and my father hardly looked at me and Ivan after everything happened. He always said we reminded him too much of everything he lost. As soon as we were old enough, he left…” I pause, thinking back to that day, the way he looked at us like we were nothing to him. He told Ivan he could take care of me now that he was eighteen…which only made things worse between us. Whether or not I wanted to believe it, I always blamed Ivan for Mira’s death and everything we lost.
“We haven’t heard from him since, and I’m thankful for it. I’m not sure I would want to see him if he did show up.”
I expect her to tell me how sorry she is yet again, but she just unfolds her arms and legs so she can scoot closer to me. The second I feel the heat of her body and her floral scent hits my nostrils, I’m melting. Her arms snake around my middle, and she pulls me into a tight hug. I wrap my arms around her and pull her even closer, needing her everywhere—inside me, on me. And just like a drug, she makes me feel better. It’s as if her touch gives me some kind of high—a new found pleasure heightened only by her touch. We sit like that, her ear pressed against my chest, listening to each other breathe. The moment seems so intimate, so deep, but when she starts to shiver in my arms, I know it’s time to get inside.
“Come on. You’re getting cold out here and I can’t risk you getting sick.” I pull her to her feet as I get up. When I realize she’s barefoot, I lean down and pick her up.
Cradling her to my chest, her arms wrapped around my neck, I carry her back up to the house. She doesn’t protest, and thank fuck, because all I want is to hold her and tell her how sorry I am.
Once we get closer to the house, I stop, seeing some people are still leaving through the front door. I don’t want to chance running into anybody, so I walk around to the backyard. Just as I reach the patio, I remember the body in the hallway.
Shit, it’s going to take Dev some time to get that cleaned up. Since I don’t want Sophie to have to see him again, even dead, I decide to go to the guesthouse by the pool.
Even in the very dim light, I can see Sophie is looking up at me with confusion though she doesn't ask where I’m taking her. Again, I’m reminded of how much she trusts me. After everything I did today, I am the last person she should trust.
I set her down on her feet when we get to the door and enter the code into the lock box. The alarm disengages, and I hear the lock unlock.
I take her hand into mine, having the urge to just keep touching her, and open the door. I usher her inside with me and flip on the light switch right beside the door.
“Are you tired?” I ask, once again feeling guilty for not making sure she is okay. Is she getting enough sleep? Is she eating? I can’t remember the last time she ate something. I’m supposed to be taking care of her and all I’m doing is being a jerk off.
I consider punching myself in the face.
“Exhausted,” she admits, and I lead her to the bedroom without question. I don’t have to ask her if she wants me to stay with her, I already know she does. She always wants me to stay with her, and I feel fucking gracious to be in her presence now, that she even wants to talk to me after how I treated her.
I exhale slowly, realizing how hard it’s going to be not to lose my temper and control with he
r if I keep taking these pills. I need them to win my fights, but do I take them at the expense of possibly hurting Sophie again?
I open the bedroom door, and she gasps when her eyes make contact with the large canopy bed. She enters the bedroom with a new found excitement, and I smile seeing how happy she is.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaims, touching one of the posts. Her fingers run over the wood, and for a moment, I have an image of her tied to the post, myself pumping in and out of her tight little body. I damn near groan, shaking the thought away.
“Yeah.” I look at her face as I strip off my jeans and flip the comforter open so we can get under it. Then I watch her with primal need as she takes her own pants off. The fabric seems to take forever to reach the floor. She usually sleeps in one of my shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, but right now, she’s just in her panties. I expect her to do one of those magic moves where the girl takes their bra off while still wearing their shirt, but she pulls her shirt over her head and throws it onto the floor beside her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her underwear.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I almost curse as I take in her nearly naked form. Why does she have to be so beautiful? Her breasts rise and fall with every breath she takes, and her pretty cheeks have a small pinkness to them. I can’t tell if it’s because she’s turned on, embarrassed, or just from all the emotions assaulting her.
My gaze drops over her smooth belly and flaring hips. Her legs are short, but that doesn’t so much matter to me. So long as she can wrap them around my waist, we’ll be fine.
I blink at the thought...then I swallow...then I blink again.
When she reaches around to her back to unclasp her bra, my mouth goes dry. I feel like a teenage boy about to see boobs for the first time, torn between telling her to stop and asking her to hurry up.
She unhooks her bra and lets the straps fall over her shoulders and down her arms. The bra falls to the floor, and there is not a shred of hope inside me that this is going to end well for either of us. Lines have already been crossed, obliterated, and every fiber in my body feels like it’s on fire.
She takes a step toward me on shaky legs, and with a lasting moment of clarity, I shake my head.
“Sophie, this is not a good idea,” I say, even though I want nothing more than to touch her. Rejection paints her beautiful features. “I’m sorry, trust me...I want you.” I find myself clenching my fists, my nails digging into my palm to stop myself from reaching out to touch her.
“I want you so badly right now, it fucking hurts. Literally, my dick hurts.”
Sophie doesn’t say anything, she just remains standing there as if I’ve wounded her, and I know I have…but I just...I can’t do this with her right now. I’m much calmer now than earlier, but there’s no telling what could happen next.
“Today is not a good day for this...” I sigh, feeling angry with myself. For the first time since I started using, I regret taking the fucking pills. Against my better judgement, I take a step toward her. I want to comfort her, that’s all…
“Look, I took some drugs before the fight. It…they make me lose control of everything, my emotions, my temper. I’ve still got too much of that shit running through my system.” I grind my teeth together, feeling like absolute shit. I have this beautiful woman offering herself to me, and I can’t risk doing something that might hurt her.
And still, the fucking beast inside me, the pieces of me that care for her and want to cling to her, tell me to do it anyway, because deep down, I know I could never hurt her like that.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met, and I can’t risk putting you in a situation where I might lose myself. If I hurt you like that, I’d...” I squeeze my eyes shut, regretting this whole fucking day ever happened. I feel the heat of her body as she takes a step closer, but I’m too much of a coward to open my eyes.
Then I feel her small hand cradling my cheek. The gesture makes me feel fragile—it makes me want to be the man she expects me to be. The one who kissed her in the dressing room and brought her out of that cell. Still, I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust I can do anything without hurting her.
“I trust you, Roman…” I feel her hard nipples pressing against my chest and I almost growl, my cock hardening to the point of pain. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Don’t say that…” I croak, my throat feeling as if I swallowed a bucket full of razor blades. “If I ever hurt you like that, it would kill me. You don’t understand how close to the edge I get. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, and I cross it...often. I don’t want you to endure that.”
Sophie looks up at me, her big blue eyes holding a naivety that calls to me. Determination fills her features, and I know the battle is already lost.
“Please…I want to feel something other than the memories of my past and the pain that comes with them. I know today was bad, and I might be stupid for saying this, but I still feel safer with you than anyone else. Nothing you did today could ever change that. You saved me from being sold, but you also saved me from myself. I’d given up and you saved me. You are the only one who makes me feel safe.”
Her admission cracks we wide open. Fucking Christ, she’s so beautiful, and pure, and perfect, and I really don’t fucking deserve her, but something’s changed between us. After tonight, after killing for her, after experiencing what it would feel like to have her taken from me, we can’t go back to whatever we were before. I want her too badly, and it’s obvious she wants me, or she wouldn’t be standing here almost naked.
I focus on my breathing, inhaling and exhaling, trying to cool my heated blood. It takes me another moment before I allow myself to touch her.
I need to make certain I can be gentle with her. She deserves gentle, slow, kind.
I raise my trembling hands and cradle her face just as she’s cradling mine. Her cheeks are warm, so incredibly soft against my palm.
My control vibrates as she pushes up onto her tiptoes and kisses my lips. Her lips are soft at first, as if she’s trying to gage my reaction. The kiss so gentle, it almost tickles.
I want her so badly, it hurts. How the hell I’m going to do this without hurting her, without ruining the moment?
“We need to go slow…” My chest rises and falls with each word.
“I don’t want slow,” she mumbles before pressing her lips hard against mine. Her kiss knocks the wind out of me, and when her tongue runs over my bottom lip, begging for entrance, I nearly die. I groan just from feeling of her hot tongue against my lips.
I part my lips for her and grant her entry, my tongue stroking hers, tangling with hers. She moans into my mouth, the low sound ripping through me.
Slow. Gentle. Kind.
I repeat inside my head as I drop my hands and trail them down over her body, first her shoulders, then her arms. She’s so warm in my arms, I feel like I’m burning alive. I lick my lips, my gaze dropping to her dusky pink nipples. Goosebumps erupt across her skin at my touch.
“Are you sure…?” If she asked me to stop now, I could. It would kill me, but I would do it. Once we start. I don’t know if I would be able to. “Are you sure this is what you want? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. It’s going to hurt, and you might hate me afterwards.”
“I could never hate you, Roman,” she whispers against my lips. She’s so trusting, so sweet, it hurts, but if this is what she wants, who am I to deny her? If she hates me tomorrow, so be it. Right now, she’s asking me to take her, begging even, and I’m merely a man.
A man falling for a woman I have no business falling for.
“Don’t be so sure. You have no idea what’s going to happen tonight.” And neither do I. If I lose myself inside her, this could turn bad real fast. Sex usually curbs the craving for violence, the craving for blood and pain, but Sophie’s different—she’s a drug herself. She shivers, and I lean forward, placing a kiss against her racing pulse. I’m rewarded with a little moan
and feel my control hanging on by a mere thread…one that Sophie keeps yanking on.
My hands roam down her bare skin until I’m cupping her firm ass in my hands. Dipping my thumbs into the flimsy waistband of her panties, I drag them down her ass far enough for them to fall her legs. Completely naked, and at my mercy, I grab onto her ass cheeks once more, kneading the tender flesh before sliding my hands to her upper thighs. With a gentleness I’m not even aware of having, I grab and haul her up my body.
She spreads her legs and wraps them around my waist. Her hot, bare pussy rubs against my lower stomach, and I can feel the moisture of her arousal on my skin.
Knowing she’s already wet and ready for me has my dick so hard, I’m not sure it will ever go down again. I step up to the king size bed and lay her on the mattress. Her dark brown hair flows around her like a messy halo. With her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, she pulls me down on top of her.
Our lips meet again, this time with a deeper intensity. There’s a biting, searing force between us as our teeth collide. It’s beyond different in comparison to all the other times we’ve kissed. Her arms and legs are still wrapped around my body as if she’s afraid I’ll pull away and walk out the door at any second. Don’t worry, baby. I couldn’t leave now, not even if I tried. I’m too far gone.
My body blankets hers, and with her clinging onto me like she is, I have a hard time keeping my body weight off her. I don’t want to hurt her or squish her, so I need to assure I’m staying. I pull away from her face just an inch.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her. Our scents mingle together. Arousal coats the air, making it hard for me to swallow, hard for me to do anything but give into the need pulsing in my veins.
She gives me a shy smile and loosens her grip. I damn near sigh when I start to move on top of her, feeling all her softness mold into my hard. I leave a trail of open mouth kisses along her jaw, down her neck, over collarbone, grinding my rock-hard cock into her drenched pussy. She’s beyond ready for me. I can feel her arousal against her thighs dampening my jeans.
Tame Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 5) Page 8