by Crespo, Nina
She smiled against his lips. “So, what about an extended hookup with benefits until the alarm is installed?”
“Hookups with benefits definitely have better perks than the standard hookup.”
“Like dinners together?”
“And possibly breakfast in the morning. And don’t forget fantastic sex.”
He deepened the kiss, and she grew lightheaded with happiness and lust as their tongues tangled. “I’m definitely all in for that.” She nudged him past the step stool into her bedroom. “Especially if the fantastic sex part starts now.”
Rome chuckled as he pulled her past the threshold and closed the door. “I can make that happen.” Following her tugs at his shirt, he took it off, then helped her with hers. In one smooth move, he turned her around, and backed her up to the bed.
She fell onto the mattress, and he followed her down.
Anticipating more of his caresses and passionate kisses, she was slightly surprised when he paused to stare down at her. “Is something wrong?” His hand rested lightly on her belly.
“No. But the last time we were together, it was rushed.”
Rome’s palm skimming over her bare belly made her quiver. “Don’t get me wrong,” he murmured over her lips as he flicked open the button of her jeans and eased the zipper down. “I like a good hard fuck, but sometimes…” He slid his hand past the waistband of her bikinis. “It’s good to take it slow.”
Rome delved two fingers into her, and he captured her moans in a kiss. As he slowly glided his fingers in and out of her slick heat, Natalie’s hips arched up of their own accord. Seeking, chasing. He circled her clit, and need built inside of her, consuming her sanity and her inhibitions about being so greedy for more. Rushes of decadent sensation made her tear her mouth from his. She balled her fingers around the comforter underneath her, then clutched onto him, crying out her orgasm. “Rome…yes!”
He kissed and nuzzled her neck as he slipped his hand from her underwear. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. I could watch you do that all day.” He unclipped the front closure of her bra. “I need to see you do that again.”
Natalie’s breathing grew even more unsteady as his jawline brushed the swell of her breast. “Again? Wait…I need…”
The warmth from Rome’s mouth warmed her breast as his lips hovered over the peak. “You need what? Tell me?”
Just as she went to finish her sentence, he sucked her nipple. The way he pressed and rolled it along the roof of his mouth with his tongue, all she could do was whimper and clutch onto Rome, holding him in place. Pure kryptonite.
She’d fantasized about this while standing in line for him at the bar during the Breakup Bash, but her imagination had fallen short of the reality. Hadn’t come close to the actual feel of his stubbled jawline rasping over her skin or the beyond-exquisite pressure of him sucking her nipple harder, then fluttering over it with his tongue. Tingles began to radiate inside of her as he moved from one sensitive peak to the other, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm.
But then he stopped. His lips brushed over hers, stifling a wail of protest. He caressed downward and traced over the scalloped lace edge of her bikinis resting along her hips. “I want to taste you.”
As she stared into his eyes, they grew darker with lust. The question wasn’t if she should agree, it was if she could handle much more of what he was doing to her.
He kissed her fully, and imagining his tongue lapping over her clit quickly made up her mind. “Yes.”
He trailed kisses from her lips down her throat. As he moved lower, brushes over the swell of her breasts stole air from her lungs. Open-mouthed kisses over her belly and lower still, as he tugged down her underwear and jeans, heated up her skin. The first slow lick up the seam of her sex made her catch her breath. He did it again, lightly fluttering his tongue over her clit, and she sank into the heat of pleasure.
Rome delved his tongue deeper, darting it in and out, and her sex pulsed and clenched so hard she arched up. He groaned, holding her down by the hips as he lapped, fluttered, and teased with his tongue. Relentless. Never missing the mark. Hitting places inside of her that fired pure ecstasy. Her climax hit, curling her toward him as she reached out, torn between making him stop or letting him almost end her with one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had.
Natalie fell back on the bed, fighting to catch her breath.
Rome moved away, stripped off his clothing, and dug a condom from the front pocket of his jeans. He wasted little time in sheathing himself.
Not fully recovered from her climax, his hard thrust set her off again, leaving her lost in sensation. Lost in him.
Chapter Fifteen
Natalie adjusted her laptop, which was sitting in front of her on the porch table on her deck. The glare of the late-afternoon Saturday sun lessened, making her screen clearer.
A pink spiny rubber ball landed on the table.
Betsy bounded up the stairs to the deck. She sat down in front of Natalie, panting, tail thumping, eager for her to throw the ball.
Rome climbed the stairs. He tossed the ball in the yard, and Betsy ran after it.
He kissed Natalie on the side of her neck. “Betsy wants to know when you’re going to join our game.”
Betsy trotted up the stairs to her water bowl in the corner near the house.
“She does, huh?”
“Yep.” He sat on the table next to Natalie’s laptop. “She also wants to know if fifteen minutes in human time is twice as long as what it is in puppy time.”
A pang of guilt hit Natalie. She’d just planned on glancing at her work email, but then a few had required responses.
She and Rome had talked and texted since Tuesday, the night they’d agree to their casual-relationship arrangement. Last night had been their reunion. He’d arrived at her place around two in the morning, after his Friday night shift, but she’d been wide awake, eager to see him.
Between getting reacquainted in bed and letting Betsy out, they had fallen asleep around six and had awakened just after noon. They’d enjoyed a few leisurely hours together before she’d gotten distracted by work.
He did have to bartend at the club that night. Instead of getting caught up in reading emails and documents, she really should enjoy spending time with him. And Betsy. She had to hand her over to Dorian next Sunday.
She shut her laptop. “I’m done. What are we doing? Playing fetch?”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Minutes later, Rome held on to Betsy’s pink leash as the three of them strolled down the block.
Natalie’s subdivision was mainly a mix of young professional couples and young families. Many of them were in their front yards playing with kids, doing yard work, and taking advantage of the sunny day.
Last week, she’d felt happy and secure living in her new place, but the robbery had dimmed the excitement. Rome had helped her set up components of the DIY alarm system, temporarily. She’d also found a sign from the old alarm company packed in a moving box in the garage, and she’d staked it in the front yard as a deterrent. The company Rome had recommended would install her alarm system that coming Thursday.
Rome nudged her. “What’s on your mind?”
She kicked a rock with the toe of her tennis shoe. “I keep thinking that someone could have been watching me since the day I moved into my house, waiting to rob me. How else could they have known I wasn’t home?”
“True, but now you’re taking steps to protect yourself, and you’re more aware of your environment.”
And she had Rome. She wasn’t afraid to live on her own, but having him around was nice, and not just for sex. Earlier that afternoon, they’d watched episodes of The Property Brothers on the new flat-screen television she’d bought for the living room and compared notes on some of the home-improvement projects they’d each done in the past.
And Betsy definitely approved of him hanging around. She was in deep puppy love with him.
As a man jogged by with a German shepherd, Rome shortened Betsy’s lead and maneuvered her away from the bigger dog.
With minimal fuss, they passed by the dog and his owner and kept jogging.
Natalie looped her arm through Rome’s. “You’re good with her. Did you work with dogs in your security job?”
“I wasn’t a dog handler, but we definitely used dogs to keep areas secure, and I had dogs growing up. What about you?”
“Betsy’s my first. I was supposed to get a beagle puppy for my sixteenth birthday.”
Memories rolled in of her and her mom picking out the runt from a litter of newborn beagle puppies. She’d had to wait until the puppy was weaned before she could bring her home.
“Supposed to? What happened?”
Rome’s questions jolted her. She was careful not to say things that opened up a deep conversation about her parents. She’d only slipped up twice. Once with Cori and Alexa. Too much wine one night, years ago, had caused her to spill it all to them, and they’d been supportive. The second time was with Dorian after they’d started dating, and it had made him extremely uncomfortable. When they were married, he always changed the topic if she brought up her parents.
She’d just met Rome. Why bring up something that would make him feel awkward and ruin their afternoon?
She forced a breezy laugh and a smile. “Something unexpected happened with the puppies. I missed my chance.”
Curiosity was in his eyes as he stared at her a moment longer, but Betsy sniffing around a bush stole his attention. “So that’s why this little beauty is so special to you?”
“Yeah. When my ex gave her to me, I immediately fell in love.” Betsy looked up at them, as if she knew they were talking about her.
Rome slipped his hand in Natalie’s. “We better head back. I have to leave soon.”
Back at the house, she fed Betsy while he dressed for work. He came out of the bedroom wearing black jeans and a black Club Escapade T-shirt.
The silence between them was filled with unspoken words as she walked him to his car in the driveway. I wish today didn’t have to end yet. I can’t wait for you to come back. But all of that was too much to say. She’d sound needy and desperate.
Rome rested his hands low on her waist and kissed her. “We still on for dinner Wednesday night?”
“Can’t wait.”
He kissed her again before he hopped into his SUV. As he drove off, the remembered feel of his lips lingered on hers.
…
A few hours after leaving Natalie, Rome gave the bar counter a final wipe down before the doors to the club opened.
The warmup DJ made a transition from Maroon 5 to Drake, and the brief music mash-up inspired an informal dance off between the four young women, who were go-go dancers, as they made their way to the platforms.
A barback topped off the inventory of bottled beer in one of the undercounter fridges, and Rome gave him a nod. “Thanks.”
Everything needed to be well-stocked and ready from start to finish. The House Party Saturday theme would kick off with the Early as F*ck, 2-4-1 special from seven to nine, and ramp up after that with dueling guest DJs playing house music all night long.
Rome drank from a small bottled water. Maybe he’d get a chance to text or call Natalie on his break. Or was that too much for a strictly casual relationship? He’d been improvising his ass off when they’d talked about the whole hookups with benefits angle. Luckily, she’d agreed, saving him the trouble of trying to justify why they should spend time together in and out of the bedroom.
As he stashed the water bottle under the counter, Xander beckoned him over to the side of the bar. “We’re going to have an unexpected celebrity VIP in the house tonight. You’ve heard of Tirra J?”
When he and Natalie had been flipping through television channels that afternoon, he’d heard her name on some program. “Yeah, she’s that reality TV star, isn’t she?”
“She’s also a friend of Shannon’s. I need someone that I can trust working the box tonight. I already cleared it with the bar manager.”
Rome followed his gaze to the smoky-glass-enclosed space located in the center of the second floor. “The box” had its own private bathroom, a bar staffed with a separate bartender and server and stocked with high-end, premium alcohol and complimentary hors d’ouvres. If the exclusive VIPs enjoying the space were chill, it was usually an easy night. If they were entitled assholes, it wasn’t.
“Okay. I’ll do it. Is the bar set up?”
Xander shook his head. “I don’t need you on the bar. I need help with security. I’m one guy short tonight.”
Back on the topic of him and security again? “Come on, man. I appreciate the nod of approval, but you know that’s not my thing anymore.”
“She’s coming with her own bodyguards. I just need you at the entrance to the box, checking wristbands to make sure only the approved people get in and the party crashers stay out. Nothing complicated.”
How could he refuse? This was Xander asking him for a favor, and Xander had helped him out with the security system info for Natalie.
A short time later, Rome stood outside the box. He ran his finger under the collar of the blue shirt Xander had loaned him that identified him as part of club security. Fresh out of the package, the fabric felt stiff, matching the discomfort that had settled over him the moment he’d put it on and walked upstairs.
So far, nothing big was happening. Except for two couples on the left drinking cocktails and observing the half-full dance floor below from one of the large curved booths near the staircase, the VIP space, in and outside the box, was empty.
“Rome.” Xander’s voice came through Rome’s headset. “Your group is on the way up.”
He glanced behind him.
The bartender and server for the night stood chatting near the bar, their areas already prepped for customers.
Rome cued the small mic hovering near his mouth. “We’re ready.”
Minutes later, Tirra J and a dozen other people came up the staircase on the right.
As luck would have it, the private elevator had stopped working shortly after he’d agreed to help out. Hopefully it wasn’t a sign of unfolding events for the rest of the night.
As the blond, model-thin reality star and her boisterous entourage of hipsters and fashion types filed past him, Rome checked for the silver wristbands that indicated they belonged in the room.
A linebacker-sized bodyguard in casual clothes with a dark buzz cut gave Rome a brisk nod as he walked into the box behind Tirra J. The guy didn’t look pleased. Was he pissed about the elevator not working? If he was in that guy’s shoes, he sure would be. Discrete and reliable ways in and out of a crowded space were important.
As time passed, the entire club, including the VIP area, became packed.
Alcohol, laughter, and conversation flowed freely in the box, but strangely, while Tirra J’s entourage ate, drank, and danced, she stayed seated on the black leather couch along the wall.
Two cute, twenty-something brunettes in minidresses and stilettoes seated in the regular VIP area sauntered up to Rome.
The one with short hair smiled up at him, after her gaze had darted to the box. “That’s Tirra J, isn’t it? Any possibility we can get in to see her? I assisted the stylist who did her hair a couple of months ago on a photo shoot. She might remember me.”
The orders were that Tirra J’s didn’t want to be disturbed by fans and no one got inside the box without the proper wristband. “Sorry. I can’t let you in.”
The woman pressed her generous breasts against him as she lifted on her toes and whispered in his ear. “Anything we can do to convince you?”
Rome crossed his arms over his chest, forcing her to back up and take her cloying perfume with her. “Can’t do it. Enjoy your night, ladies.”
His firm dismissal worked, and they went back to join the two other women sitting in their booth.
The bodyguard walked up n
ext to Rome. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
Was he going to tell him that he should have let those women in? If the guy planned to bend the rules all night, then he needed to take his place at the door.
Rome huddled with him just off to the side. “What’s up?”
“I need to get T.J. out of here.” The bodyguard leaned in closer as he lowered his voice. “She just got over the flu a few days ago, and she’s not a hundred percent yet. I tried to convince her not to come here tonight, but she insisted.”
Yeah, definitely been there with a client. “I wish there was another elevator, but there isn’t. The stairs are the only way out.”
“Shit.” The bodyguard released a harsh breath. “I’m worried that the crowd pushing in on her as we leave will be too much for her. She’s afraid that if I carry her out, people will think she’s drunk or high and post it on social media. She can’t afford any bad press right now.”
Rome felt for the guy. From his experience, at times like this, you had to come up with creative solutions—which often included diversions—to get clients out of sticky situations. “What if you created a really good reason for carrying her out and got people to post that on social media?”
“What do you mean?”
“She has fans here in the VIP area. If she can hold it together for a little while longer, she should meet them and take a few pictures. At some point, have her fake a twisted ankle and make a big deal about her being hurt so everyone in the VIP area hears it. The news will find its way to social media.”
“That could definitely work.” The bodyguard’s expression grew a little less grim. “Better for people to view her as clumsy than see her passed out cold on the floor because she fainted. Can club security escort us out?”
With Tirra J being Shannon’s friend, Xander wouldn’t hesitate in providing support. “I’ll get on that.” Rome jutted his chin toward the table where the two brunettes who had come up to him earlier partied with their friends. “One of them mentioned assisting on a photo shoot with your client. She and her friend wanted to get in to see her, but I turned them away. They’ll feel special if they get some attention from her now.”