"I want you to talk to him."
"I do talk to him. I say hi and bye. I just won't give him the opportunity to bite me in the back."
"What the heck does that mean? Bite you in the back?" I ask in frustration. "You know what? Forget it. You're being ridiculous. Adorable but ridiculous."
"Mmm, you're adorable," he whispers in my ear. "I'm ready to spread your limbs from east to west right on this desk and fuck you sideways. Would you like that, baby?"
I squeeze my eyelids tightly closed and lie through my teeth, "No."
"You don't mean that. You know how I know? Because ever since you walked in here, you've been staring at me like a piece of chicken," he chuckles as he throws one of my old sayings back at me. "Arms up, Duchess."
I shake my head vigorously no again.
"Uh-uh." I lean away from him and say with a smile. "I'm going to walk back out of this office with all of my clothes on, and you're going to behave for the next hour or so, so that Blake and I can finish."
"Blake," he parrots back gruffly. "Who the hell names their son Blakkke." He exaggerates the pronunciation of the K sound.
"Umm, a lot of people do and would you please quiet down."
I move from underneath and away from Roman, knowing that if I don't put some physical distance between the two of us, that he will take great pleasure in totally embarrassing the hell out of me in front of someone I pay a salary. Someone whose opinion of me matters. I've already been in here way too long. It's embarrassing.
"Where are you going?"
"Over here," I say with determination.
He stalks over towards me.
"You know I don't beg for pussy, Elizabeth," he says into my ear with a grin spread across his face.
"So you keep saying, but I don't think you even really want it right now anyway. You're just trying to prove some sort of point."
"Don't be mistaken, pretty girl. I always want it when it comes to you."
Roman leans his forehead into mine, and I can't help but wrap my arms around his waist as he moves in for a kiss. He's holding back, thank God, but he still makes sure to take a moment to savor my mouth in a way that makes me imagine that I taste extremely delicious.
"You taste like bubblegum," he says in the low, gravelly voice that hardens my nipples every single time.
As his tongue plunges deeper into my mouth, I instinctively rise up on my toes and rest my hands along the back of his buzzed-cut head. Rubbing back and forth as the kiss grows more passionate. He loves it when I rub his head this way, and I can tell by the deep groan coming from deep inside his chest that I need to stop this right now before it gets totally out of hand. I'm sending seriously mixed signals.
I break the kiss and step away from him, although it takes every ounce of will power I can muster. It's so easy to get lost inside of the deep physical attraction we have for each other. It's basically all we've been doing for the last few months. Indulging in our baser instincts, our deep sexual connection, as well as our burgeoning emotional relationship.
"I'm not kissing you anymore until you promise to make a dentist appointment," I say suddenly.
"Well that shit came out of no where," he laughs. "Does my breath stink?"
"I can't kiss a man who doesn't take care of his teeth."
"Jade texted you, huh? She's been on my ass about that appointment for two weeks. Listen, Duchess, my teeth are fine. I haven't had a cavity since I was seven. Stop trying to change the subject, and bring your spectacular ass back over here where you belong."
"How do we know your teeth are fine? Jade said you haven't been in two years. That's a long time not to have a checkup."
Roman crosses his massive arms in front of himself. Every delicious inch of his firm biceps hugged and accentuated by the tight white thermal shirt he's wearing. I can already tell that he's about to say something that I'm not going to like. It's written all over his mischievous face.
"Well I did date a dental student a few years back. I think she just settled into a practice over in Chestnut Hill. Maybe I should give her a call. She gave amazing–"
"Hey!" I yell as I slap him on the arm.
Roman chuckles again.
"So fucking pretty."
"Oh just be quiet," I snap. "And behave for another hour or so. Blake has to leave early, and then we can play for the rest of the day like we planned."
"So now you've stooped to bargaining with me? Go to the dentist and I'll get some pussy. Wait another hour and then I'll get some. What happened to you telling me that this was mine?"
Roman swiftly walks back towards me and immediately slides his hand underneath my pencil skirt and in between my legs. The flimsy triangle of fabric I'm wearing underneath is unable to hide the pure heat emanating from my crotch. It's just the nature of the beast. I'm always hot for him. That and the fact that the kiss we just shared turned things up a notch.
"And that I could have this any time I wanted." He slides his hand back out, then back in again. Each time, hiking up my skirt a little farther up. Playing carefully in between my legs like my slit is a delicate string instrument.
"I'm not your possession, Roman." I try to say this with conviction while his hand still plays wickedly in between my legs.
We both know that was unconvincing.
He possesses me body and soul.
"Listen to me closely, Duchess," he says as his brow creases. "Everything about you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes belongs to me." He kisses me softly. "And I belong to you. All that's left for us to do is make it official."
The intended meaning of his words and the tone that he uses to deliver them are the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me. That's why my resistance grows weaker, and so I say the most ridiculous thing a woman could say right in the middle of her workday. Especially with her employee sitting in the next room.
"I'll give you ten minutes."
"Stop playing around," he chuckles. Pleased with himself that he's won our game of wills between us. "You know you'll want me inside of you for at least an hour. You always beg for more."
I roll my eyes. "Okay fifteen."
"This negotiation is going downhill real fast, because in three fucking seconds I'm going to take you right here on this desk, right the hell now, for as long as I want, and I don't give a shit who's listening in the other room."
"This obviously isn't a negotiation," I whisper angrily while jabbing my finger in his chest. "This is you bullying me!"
"I'm not sure why I have to bully or beg for time with my girl on a Thursday any fucking way. Thursday is my night per our new arrangement is it not?"
"I'd hardly describe these last few minutes as you begging, and yes Thursday is your night, not the entire day."
He ignores me as usual when I tell him something he doesn't want to hear.
"What were you two laughing your asses off about out there anyway? Is coding that fucking funny? What's the damn joke?"
"So we're back to Blake now? I think I have whiplash. You can't seem to focus on one topic. Do you want a quickie or do you want to talk about my employee?"
"I'd like to focus solely on getting inside that ass of yours if you'd stop talking about that prick for just ten seconds."
"Honestly, Roman," I cock my head to the side, "jealousy doesn't look good on you."
"This is not me being jealous, Elizabeth. This is me paying very close attention to what's mine. I didn't become who I am by not paying attention. You should know the difference."
"Blake is not a prick, and you know it. He's a good guy, a great coder, and I like him. Not to mention that you're the only one who's been talking about him incessantly for the last few minutes, not me. Listen, I don't have time to argue with you. He's waiting out there for me, and I'm trying to build a business in case you forgot," I whisper angrily.
"Build it tomorrow," he growls. "And let his ass wait."
A knock on the door surprises us both.
"Hey, Beth, I need to check som
e of Ravi's notes. Do you mind if I check the emails between the two of you?" Blake asks through the closed door.
Immediately my eyes fly up to meet Roman's. I already know what he's thinking before he even opens his mouth. The fact that Blake is in my house, interrupting our conversation through a closed door, regardless of the topic or the reason, is probably rubbing him the wrong way. Really wrong. He confirms my assumption when his body grows tense, and his eyes lock on mine.
"Yes, Blake." I call out with my eyes still completely on Roman. "Check the School Bucks Gmail account. It's already open in my browser. Just search for Ravi's name."
"Cool."
Now Roman's mouth is taut just like his tightly strung body. My guess is that he's about to cuss poor Blake out something awful, so I quickly press the tips of two of my fingers against his lips to quiet him. And then Blake speaks again.
"Umm, are you all right?" he asks.
"Totally," I say through the door in the brightest voice I can muster at this point, "I'll be out in a sec."
I can see Roman's jugular vein pulsating. Blake may never have the ability to have children if I don't calm crazy boy's nerves. He's told me plenty of times that he doesn't fight fair.
"Shh, he doesn't understand Masterson protocol quite yet."
"The fuck he mean are you all right?" he says through my fingers which are still covering his lips.
"This isn't just some shit I make up in my head, Elizabeth. Any man would know that he's overstepping right now. Purposely overstepping. We're in here talking. Whatever he's doing out there can wait a goddamn minute. And what's with him calling you Beth? He's known you for all of two damn minutes. That's not even your fucking name."
"Would you quiet down. You're acting a bit–"
"A bit what?"
"A bit ridiculous, Roman. Crazy. Nuts. I'm not going to battle with you like this every time Blake is over. You bought me this place, so that I could work from home didn't you?"
He sucks his teeth.
"I know why I bought you this apartment, Elizabeth. I don't need you to remind me of my generosity."
Now I'm getting mad for real.
"Oh please! You're acting like I asked you to buy me this place."
"You didn't say no."
"So that means you're going to throw it up in my face every damn chance you can? Or that I have to do whatever you say, because you gave it to me as a gift?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. I don't even want to live here after that frackin' comment."
I place my hand on the doorknob of the door to leave.
"Don't turn that fucking handle. We're not done."
I stop my movements, but I keep my head facing forward.
"Stop telling me what to do, Roman. I mean it. I'm not playing with you right now. You bossing me around in bed is one thing, but you trying to control my life outside of the bedroom is another. You're embarrassing the hell out of me."
"So I embarrass you now?" he asks harshly as he walks up directly behind me. "I'm stupid and I fucking embarrass you?"
I've never heard Roman speak to me using this tone of voice before. It's hurtful. I don't even know how we got to this place. Hell, I'm the one who has the right to be angry. He's being irrational and overly territorial. As if I've done something to warrant this behavior. As if I'm someone who can't be trusted.
My hand shakes as I continue to grip the doorknob tightly with my right hand. I'm not sure why. I'm not frightened of Roman. He would never hurt me. I'm just really frightened of the direction that this conversation may go in if I say anything else.
He is physically close enough that I could easily end the tension between us by leaning my head back against his chest. It's what my first instinct is telling me to do. It's what I've done many times before, to stop things from escalating between us. It's my surrender. My bow to his domination.
But I don't want to acquiesce today. I don't think I should have to. My employee is out there waiting for me. I've wanted School Bucks to work for so long, and I finally have someone on board that can really help me get it to where it needs to be. Besides Roman, it's all I want. Yet it seems for some reason, he doesn't want it for me. He can't possibly. Not if he's acting like this.
I don't take the easy way out this time. Instead of leaning my head back to diffuse the tension between us, I stand erect, turn the knob to the right, open the door and exit.
"I think we need a time out," I say, not really sure what I mean or for how long I mean; but what I do know is that I don't want to talk to him for at least the rest of the day. That's how disappointed I am in him right now.
He doesn't say a word in response, but he doesn't have to. Something is very wrong with him, or with us, and Blake is a symptom not the sickness. Maybe a little space between us will be just the medicine we need to help whatever it is heal on its own.
15
Roman
"Well this is down right interesting."
"What?" I ask Jade as I instruct her to take a seat with my pointer finger. "Sit."
"This place."
She plunks her tiny ass down on the bench next to me and places a dark brown messenger bag that's bigger than her entire body next to her. I laugh to myself as she sits, because she knows me so well.
"What's so interesting about this place, Jade?" I ask already knowing her answer.
"Well for one, it's pretty as fuck out here. Hallmark movie pretty. Also we are actually sitting outside, far away from civilization, where there's not even bottle service or a slutty girl shamelessly gawking at you. Totally the opposite of your usual day in every way unless you're running," she snickers. "Shall I continue?"
I'm sitting in an area that is about thirty minutes out of the city, called Longwood Park, people watching of all things. In my work, I have on many occasions watched, followed, and stalked people for days on end. Paying attention to where they go, who they talk to, what they buy, and what they throw away. It's necessary for me to try and learn everything about the person I'm working for as well as any people who are in the way, before I fix a situation.
But I've never done this type of people watching before. Which is basically watching people for no reason at all. Well let me take that back. I guess it's all how you look at it. I do have a reason for being here at Longwood, but it's not due to the usual work related reasons.
I overheard Elizabeth mention how much she loved this park a while back, when I was eavesdropping on a phone conversation that she was having with the prick also known as Blake. The pleasant lilt in her voice when she described one of her visits here peaked my curiosity. That and the fact that she was having this conversation with him and not me. I know about her favorite playground near Penn, we've visited it several times, but she's never told me anything about this place. And this place is the total opposite of that playground. That fact alone tells me a number of things.
One, that Elizabeth has something else in common with this brand new pain in my ass. Something common between the two of them that we don't share. Two, that for whatever reason, she doesn't think I have any interest in sitting in parks and watching pretty shit. Which I don't, but that's not the fucking point. I am highly interested in all things and everything that have to do with Elizabeth Hill. So I've made it my business to inform myself about this Longwood Park place all on my own.
I've been sitting on this wooden park bench, which evidently was bought and dedicated to some dude named Cecil back in 1985, for about twenty minutes tonight, and I think I'm starting to see what my girl loves about the place.
Every branch on every tree in the park has been meticulously decorated with tiny, white Christmas lights, lighting up the entire area and making it look almost like a mystical getaway. As if we're not literally minutes away from the grit of the city. That's probably part of it. Maybe Longwood reminds her a bit of home. All the nuclear families walking around out here. Holding hands. Taking pics of each other under the lights. I hadn't put mu
ch thought to it before, but a girl like Elizabeth probably wants all of that. A perfect family. White picket fence. Family time in the park. Unfortunately I don't know shit about that. All I've got is some money and Mr. Tibbs.
Now while I admit it's almost picture perfect out here, I find it especially interesting how each and every kid under the age of twelve seems to stare up at the lights in utter amazement. As if the park is magical. As if they could blink their eyes and all of a sudden see Santa.
I never had a moment as a kid where I looked at anything with amazement, or wonder, or awe. Most of what I saw everyday was old, drunken, worn men on the block who life had beaten the hell out of. Craving a drink every moment of the day.
And then there were the older guys that kids my age were suppose to look up to. They'd already graduated or dropped out of high school, and were living their lives with no real purpose. Getting high on meth, selling meth, getting girls pregnant, and talking shit all day about how badass they were.
This is the type of daily, depressing shit I had to regularly see on my way to the store to pick my mother up a pack of menthol cigarettes, or to buy myself my meal for the day, which was usually a pint of milk and a small box of Froot Loops.
Needless to say, my outlook on life was seriously jaded very early on. None of the kids in my neighborhood saw anything with stars in their eyes. There was no pretty shit on my block. And while I'm doing my best to reprogram all of that, I wonder if Elizabeth will understand if I can't be that guy even though I want to be. Or at least a better version of myself. Better for Elizabeth. Better for myself.
"So why are we here?" Jade asks in an annoyed and rushed tone. As if it's not her damn job to be at my beck and call.
"I'm sorry you bitter little Brussels sprout. Am I keeping you from something?"
She sucks her teeth in annoyance.
"I'm just trying to figure out why we're meeting in West Bubblefuck. Whatever this is about could have been handled from the comfort of your Penthouse Suite or at least that makeshift office you have in your girlfriend's house."
"I'm putting the band back together again," I say satirically.
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