by Crespo, Nina
“You’re welcome.” Rome hugged her back, happy she was smiling again and that he had a reason to hold her close.
She smacked her lips to his. “You’re my hero.”
Hero. The word struck him like a dull knife, digging into his scars and scraping over old wounds. Happiness drained from him. If she knew the truth about his past, the last thing she’d ever call him was a hero.
Chapter Seven
Natalie looked over the now-orderly pet playroom and Betsy snoring softly in her doggie bed, aided by a calming treat.
But despite being tired herself, important tasks zipped through Natalie’s mind. First, she had to make a list of her stolen items for the police and her insurance carrier. Then find an alarm company. And definitely disinfect the hell out of everything the thieves had touched, especially in the kitchen, her bathroom, and her bedroom. Luckily, they’d mostly left the guest room intact. She’d sleep there tonight.
A final task hovered in her mind, and as much as she wanted to avoid it, she couldn’t. She had to communicate with Dorian about Betsy’s microchip. In the midst of everything that happened, she’d forgotten about it.
A few days before she’d found out Dorian was cheating, he’d mentioned the chip that had been implanted when he’d first adopted her was linked to a new app. He was supposed to have downloaded it on her phone.
Once her marriage had erupted, getting the information from him had slipped her mind. Now she had to, just in case she ever lost Betsy again, but having a civil conversation with him since the divorce was even more of a chore.
During the time that Rome had searched for Betsy, she’d debated following his advice to add Dorian to the list of possible suspects. But breaking into her house was a stretch, even for Dorian, and if the police had contacted him, it would have lit a dumpster fire as big as their divorce settlement. Knowing him, he would have found a way to twist the story, making him the victim, and her, the worst pet owner ever.
Luckily, Rome had found her fur baby. Betsy had good instincts about people. If Rome was a jerk, Betsy would have steered clear of him, and Betsy definitely wouldn’t have let him walk into the house if she felt he was a threat.
The sound of Rome’s footsteps came from the vicinity of the living room.
Earlier, after he’d found Betsy, she’d been so ecstatic to see her, she’d hugged him on impulse. At first, he’d seemed happy, too, but after she’d kissed him, he’d stopped smiling and grown strangely quiet. She’d expected him to leave soon after that, but he’d stayed, volunteering to cover up the broken glass door while she’d cleaned up Betsy’s room.
Was Rome’s reaction to her kissing him his way of letting her know their one-night stand was officially over? Was he clarifying that he’d only stuck around to help her through a tough situation?
As Natalie walked into the living room, Rome screwed the white pleated shade back on the floor lamp next to the couch. “How’s Betsy?”
“Fine, but worn out.”
“And you?”
Natalie picked up a beige throw pillow. Underneath it was the remnants of a blue blown-glass bowl she’d purchased at an art fair during a trip to the Bahamas with Cori and Alexa. They’d all purchased the same piece to commemorate their vacation. Now the bowl was destroyed.
As she glanced around the wrecked room, sadness transformed into anger.
From what she’d discovered, so far, the thieves had stolen electronic items, along with her favorite costume jewelry. The dark rum her staff had given her for Christmas last year, along with the tequila Alexa had brought over when they’d watched movies and made margaritas last week, was gone, too, and in one of the cruelest moves of all, they’d stolen her coffeemaker.
Rome staring at her made Natalie realize she hadn’t answered his question.
“How am I?” A bitter laugh escaped as she tossed the throw pillow into a side chair. “I should just be grateful that I have Betsy back, right? Or that they didn’t go into the garage, break into my car, and steal the laptop that I mistakenly left on the backseat. I should jump for joy because only things were broken, and they didn’t discover where I keep the most important stuff. And I guess I should also be glad that they just trashed my house and didn’t burn it down.”
“You could be grateful for those things, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be upset.”
“Upset, huh? Or maybe I should completely take the blame. I’m the one who didn’t install an alarm system in time to prevent it. Well, you bet I will now. Do they make one that includes flaming arrows and spikes shooting from the floor? If someone else decides to break in here, I want them skewered.” A sob escaped, and her hand flew up on a reflex, covering her mouth.
“Stop crying. All you’re doing is burdening people with your problems. Don’t waste their time by making them feel sorry for you.” That’s what Aunt Carmen had told her after her parents’ funerals. Compared to losing her parents, this wasn’t worth crying over.
Rome walked over to her.
He probably believed she was falling apart. She should have saved her dramatic outburst until after he’d left. “I’m fine. Really, I am.”
The compassion in his eyes almost led her into his arms. Natalie turned away from him and hugged herself instead.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “It’s okay. Let it out.”
She wouldn’t cry, but she did allow herself to lean into him. “How could anyone think stealing is right?”
“I don’t have a good answer.” He held her tighter. “I just know that it’s hard for people like us to understand because it’s something we’d never do to someone else. I also know that fixating on the ‘why’ will only make this worse for you. It’s better to focus on moving past this and doing what you can to stop it from happening again.”
Trying to move ahead was the main reason she’d gone out tonight. Instead of returning home happy after a great girls’ night out, she’d returned to chaos.
Physical and emotional weariness made Natalie close her eyes. With the mess no longer in sight, it was easy to pretend that he was holding her for a completely different reason. That in a minute, he’d turn her by the waist and kiss her, ready to continue what they’d started at the club.
But in the real world, he’d been beyond supportive, considering their uncomplicated quickie had turned into a crime drama. It was time to let him off the hook so he could leave.
“Thank you.” She turned in his arms and laid her hands on his chest. “It’s late. I know you’re tired. You should go home.”
“Not until you’re settled. All I could find was plastic and cardboard to cover the door. Even though the chances are slim that whoever broke in will come back, I still think you should take Betsy and go to a hotel or stay with friends or family until you get a new door.”
Family… She didn’t have anyone other than Alexa or Cori, but there was no point in ruining their nights over this.
“No. I’m staying,” Resolve took hold in Natalie, and she stepped away from him. “This is my house, and no one’s going to force me out of it.”
“Force you out? This is about your safety. Look. I’ll stop by a home improvement store in the morning, find a door, and install it for you. It’s just one night.”
No. It was one night too many. “Someone invaded my home. I understand your concern, but I’m reclaiming my space. I’m not leaving.”
“Then neither am I.” Rome crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance.
…
Rome lay on his back with his shirt off on the pullout bed in Natalie’s living room. Him staying and her not leaving wasn’t what he’d planned at all.
“While you figure out what to do, I’m going to bed.”
That’s what she’d told him earlier during their standoff.
And then he’d gone for broke, expecting her to cave. “Guess I’m bunking here for the night. This couch looks comfortable.”
“Actually, it is.” Natalie hadn�
��t batted an eye as she stared at him. “I’ll get you some sheets.”
Rome released a soft chuckle. He should have expected a response like that from her, since she’d verbally sparred with him so easily at the club. From what he’d learned about her so far, she knew her own mind. She also wasn’t afraid to express her opinions or to go for what she wanted. Her confidence was what had attracted him to her in the first place. And made it impossible for him not to want to touch her, kiss her, or to be inside of her again.
A growing hard-on pushed against the front of his jeans as memories emerged of her arching up under him, crying out in pleasure.
In the midst of arguing with her about leaving her house for the night, he’d considered using other tactics besides talking to sway her his direction. Sex was a great tension reliever, but he wasn’t some horny asshole. Sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind.
He’d witnessed her self-confidence take a hit when she’d discovered that someone had broken into her home and that Betsy was gone. Part of him was glad she’d gotten feisty and stood up for herself, refusing to leave, but after tonight, she couldn’t stay in her house without putting some important measures in place.
Hopefully, she realized now that a security system wasn’t an option but a priority. Xander supervised the installation of a new alarm system at Club Escapade, as well as special security provisions for Rafe Dumond’s loft, which was connected to the club. He could ask Xander which company they used. And what about other forms of protection? Did she have any? Betsy was cute, but she wasn’t much of a deterrent. Natalie should have—
No. It wasn’t his place to determine what she needed. That part of his life, protecting others and advising them on how to protect themselves, was over. Staying with her until morning wasn’t about him acting as her bodyguard. Sure, she was tough, but the shock of something like this often hit people when they least expected it. She shouldn’t be in the house alone. That was why he’d stayed.
Rome closed his eyes, preparing to slip into meditative rest instead of a deep sleep, but he couldn’t find peace. A battle raged between his conscience, which demanded he look out for Natalie, and the demons from his past reminding him exactly why he shouldn’t.
Chapter Eight
Moonlight shining through spaces in the blinds formed strange shapes and shadows in the darkened guest room, where Natalie lay in the four-poster bed.
Nothing is there. She forced herself to stare at the only neutral place—the ceiling—but restlessness stemming from trying to sleep in a room she wasn’t used to being in wouldn’t go away. Whoever had broken in hadn’t just stolen her possessions. They’d also taken away something she’d valued almost as much as Betsy—her sense of security and belonging in her home. The assurance that came with knowing it was hers. That her home couldn’t be taken away from her…like it had been when her parents died.
Painful recollections from eleven years ago, just two days after she’d found out her parents were gone, rolled in. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut the memory down, but failed as it vividly took shape.
That horrible afternoon, she’d sat on her bed, earbuds stuffed in her ears, blasting her favorite playlist on her iPod. She’d needed the noise to block out the sounds of the phone ringing downstairs and the hushed conversations between the aunt she’d just met a few hours ago and other unfamiliar people.
Listening to Ne-Yo, Fergie, and Sean Paul had kept her tiny bubble intact for a little while. In a place where her parents were on their way back from a business convention in Tennessee and the report of them dying in a car accident had all been a big mix-up. In her mind, she’d reasoned that her parents had to come home because her mom was supposed to drop her off at a cheerleading clinic that weekend. Also, her father was remodeling the bathroom, and he was going to teach her how to lay tile, and in a few weeks she and her parents were picking up the beagle puppy she had chosen a month ago for her birthday. She’d desperately held on to the hope that they would arrive back in Atlanta that night or the day after or the day after that.
But then her bedroom door had opened, and Aunt Carmen, the sister her mother had been estranged from for years, had walked in to tell her about the funeral arrangements…and her plans to sell the house. In an instant, her protective bubble had burst, and a reality she didn’t ask for or want had consumed her world. Overnight, her carefree teenage priorities were forcefully shaped and molded into serious adult ones, as she went to live with her aunt because she was the only relative who could take her.
Stop! Natalie sat up in bed, batting away the sadness that threatened to consume her now. Today wasn’t like the past. She wasn’t dependent upon anyone to take care of her, and no one was making her leave her home. She’d restore what was missing, and, if karma truly existed, the jackasses that had robbed her of her things and her peace of mind would get what they fully deserved.
Natalie flung back the covers. As she walked out of the bedroom in her bare feet, she tugged down her mid-thigh-length “When I die, the dog gets everything” T-shirt. A cup of stress-relief tea would help her relax and possibly slow down her thinking long enough for her to get some sleep.
She was almost halfway down the hall before she remembered to walk softly so she wouldn’t disturb Betsy…or Rome.
As she crept past the closed door of the playroom, Betsy’s collar jangled, but she didn’t whine or bark. Natalie rarely locked her up, but she wanted to make sure her fur baby didn’t wander into places that she hadn’t cleaned up yet. Betsy would tolerate a night of not sleeping where she pleased as long as she was taken outside in three hours, at six in the morning.
Natalie continued to the end of the hallway, planning to quietly make her way through the living room to the kitchen. But seeing Rome laying on top of the bedsheet in his low-slung jeans, arm resting above his head, brought her up short.
The glow from outside streetlights streamed through small openings in the blinds, illuminating him. Even at rest, cuts of muscle stood out in his chest, stomach, and arms. When they were in the storeroom, she hadn’t gotten a look at the entire juicy package. Had she known all of that was available, she would have ripped off his shirt.
Sex with Rome, the drink-serving god…the orgasm maker. That’s how her night after attending the Breakup Bash should have ended…with a thrill of being with him, not disaster.
He shifted his legs, and the natural V cutting along his hips deepened, framing his impressive abs. He brought his arm down. “Is something wrong?”
Unexpectedly hearing his voice caused her breath to hitch and made her feel a tad embarrassed. Ogling him while he slept drifted into stalker territory. “No. I’m…”
As Rome sat up and put his feet on the floor, his rippling muscles took her words away. “If you can’t sleep, that’s normal. What happened can leave you feeling uneasy.”
Or hot and bothered. Very hot, in fact. Suddenly, her light sleep shirt felt like a winter coat. “I’m not upset. I mean, yes, of course I’m upset. I was robbed, but that’s not why I’m here.” Her gaze drifted to his lap. Was that bulge a hard-on, or was she just dreaming?
“Okay.” His low, husky voice made her skin tingle. “Then, why are you here?”
Go make herself a cup of tea, or give in to the desire that made her breasts heavy and lust pool in her middle. The choice was clear.
She walked to the pullout bed and in between his legs. His body heat seeped through his jeans and into her skin.
He took her hand. “Do you want me to hold you?”
“I’m not here for handholding.”
He visibly swallowed. “Tell me what you need.”
She nudged him back. “You.”
He held on to her waist, and she followed him down to the mattress. As soon as his back hit the cushioned surface, they came together in a tongue-tangling kiss, matching each other stroke for glide.
He caressed down her back, cupped her ass, and raised his hips upwards. His erection pressing agai
nst her raised a delicious shiver.
Natalie sat up and straddled him, then took off her shirt and tossed it on the floor.
His quick intake of breath and the look of pure want in his eyes spurred her into cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples. She undulated her hips over the bulge pushing up against his jeans, savoring the headiness of desire uncoiling in her middle.
His breathing sped up, and his nostrils flared. “Fuck. I need you now.” In one swift movement, he rolled Natalie on her back. He lay on top of her, legs tangled with hers.
Longing made her arch up. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m not waiting.” He shifted partially off of her. “I’m enjoying.”
As he swept his lips down her throat, he massaged her breast and feathered his thumb over her nipple. His trail of leisurely kisses to her other breast pulled whimpers of anticipation out of her. The slow sucking of her nipple into his mouth made her grip his head as pleasure shot to her core.
He took his lips away, and the warmth of his mouth along with the cool air in the room raised a shiver. “No…don’t stop.” Her moan of objection quickly turned into one of bliss when Rome turned his attention back to her breasts.
He rapidly licked over one hardened peak while he flicked his thumb over the other.
Her sex pulsed, and she rocked her hips against his thigh, trying to soothe the ache. It wasn’t enough. “Please…”
He kissed just below her breasts. “You want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
Rome skimmed his palm over her belly. “Here?”
“Uh-huh.”
He traced the silken cords of the skimpy bikinis running along on her hips and the triangle of lace in between. “And here.”
Caught in the sensual web of desire and expectancy, she could barely push out a whisper. “Please.” She hated to sound so damn needy, but she’d say anything for him not to stop. But once he got her off, turnabout was fair play.