“Beautiful,” he murmured and kissed the tops of her breasts, spilling out of her bra. He reached behind her, taking her bra off with more restraint than he showed her shirt, suckling one breast and then the other.
“I need these off.” She tried to undo the clasp on his pants but her fingers shook too much to get it done.
“You first.” His fingers edged up the hem of her skirt and rubbed her through her panties. “Never mind,” he whispered against her lips, almost to himself, pushing the fabric aside and sliding two fingers into her. Alexandra hissed, one leg on the hood and the other hooked around his waist, trying to get closer as he continued his ministrations. He was merciless, never letting go, holding her in place with his grip when she would have moved away. It was too much. Roman bombarded her, causing a sensory overload.
He bit her earlobe, the place between pleasure and pain so acute she thought she was going to die, before she shut her eyes and screamed his name, making her lose her mind. She was drenched. Her whole body buzzed with the aftershocks of her recent orgasm, unable to move because her legs were jelly. Roman didn’t have the same problem, pulling her leg down from his waist and sliding her toward him until her feet hit the ground. He anchored his arm around her waist to keep her upright, pulling her skirt up and ripping off her panties.
“You owe me some clothes,” she groaned, shutting up when he kissed her. She shivered as the cool air hit her exposed rear, not caring she was on display for anyone who came in the parking lot, only wanting what he could give her. The parking lot was dark anyway; people may see someone out there but wouldn’t know who it was. He turned her back around, positioning her hands on the hood of the car so she was bent at the waist and open for him.
“A woman as gorgeous as you should never wear clothes.” His backhanded compliment ended with a slap on her ass. Then he licked the long column of her spine and told her, “I’m going to fuck you right now, so if you object, tell me now because we’re not going back. Once I’m in you, I own you.”
“Then own me,” she grunted, her brain fried and barely able to form complete sentences. There was nothing but this moment and the feel of him inside her. She heard the crackle of the condom wrapper, her only warning before the tip of his cock pressed inside her entrance. Her muscles clenched, already accepting him, but Roman didn’t move.
“I’ll make this better next time,” he added as an afterthought, before he put one arm around her waist and slammed into her. She cried out, could do nothing but hold on as he slammed into her over and over again. He put his other arm around her, moving her arms so he could tease her breasts. Pinching her nipples, he pulled her up a little and thrust into her at a different angle, hitting the sweet spot. She’d never felt this way before, full yet aching for more.
“Roman…” She was unable to voice what she was experiencing, and was terrified of the implications.
“I know,” he reassured her, his hand snaking down her stomach to rub her clit. She fell apart again, leaning down until her head was pressed against her arm, which lay on the hood of the car, while tremors ran through her body. She was aware of him thrusting a couple more times before he came on a grunt. She stayed there while she heard him take care of the condom until he moved so his chest was pressed to her back.
Alexandra was sated and didn’t want to move, but she turned her face to the side so she could receive the kiss he offered. They stayed still, the only sound their panting, as though they didn’t want to disturb the quiet after the storm. And it had been a storm, with a slow buildup, while the passion overtook them so they became aware of nothing but each other, until the only thing left was the carnage from the sex they’d shared. She pushed back so he moved out of her way, turning so she was sitting on the car, taking stock of her current situation. Her skirt was up around her waist where he’d left it, her panties and shirt were ripped, and she had a bra somewhere. He studied her, saying nothing, wearing nothing but his jeans.
“How come you aren’t naked?” she asked, trying to run her hand through the hornets’ nest that was her hair to make herself more presentable.
“I got mostly naked.” Rubbing his chest, he grinned. He held out his hand, helping her stand up and tugging down her skirt. She crossed her arms around her chest while she tried to figure out what she was going to do about not having a shirt. She had her bra, but she couldn’t drive home in that. I’m sorry I don’t have a shirt, Officer. Would you believe it’s a bikini? Roman picked up her top with a grimace, throwing it back down before he pulled his T-shirt over her head.
“I want my shirt back,” he teased, giving her a smacking kiss.
“You ripped my shirt,” she argued, holding her arms out to see how ridiculous the shirt looked on her, almost coming down to the end of her skirt. “I should be able to keep it if I want.”
“I know I ripped your shirt, but that’s still mine.” He pulled her into his chest and kissed her forehead. “You feel better?” He was probably referring to the text from earlier that afternoon, when she’d said she needed to see him. She’d expected him to refuse her after he hadn’t seen hide or hair from her since she’d left six days before but he’d come with no questions asked.
They’d forged a weird little bond—not a relationship, but almost like a friendship of sort—as though one lost soul recognized another and needed something they could only find with each other. They were like each other’s life vest in the storm they created around themselves, a calm they craved but were never able to find.
“Yes,” she said into his chest.
“I’m glad.” He kissed the top of her head again. His hand tangled in her hair so he could pull her back and she could see his face. “But we need to talk.”
8
Alexandra flinched when Roman said the words, so he held her tighter. When Alexandra left the other day, he’d told himself she would be back when she thought it through. After almost a week, he’d started to get worried. The man who hadn’t had a relationship in years was caught up in a woman he couldn’t seem to shake. And he still hadn’t told her anything about his original intentions.
He almost ignored her text that afternoon, figuring she was playing him, but he was a masochist who’d thought about the damn girl all week. And she’d seemed desperate in her text message, begging to see him that night, so he decided to make it quick and dirty at the bar. They were in a temporary relationship for their own mutual gratification, something he needed to remind himself after having sex with her. He was pretty skilled at separating his feelings from sex, but once he sank himself into her warm heat, no matter how rushed, he never wanted to let her go.
He didn’t have feelings for her, more like an appetite he couldn’t satisfy after one filling. She’d whet it the other day with a taste of her, but their time in the parking lot was like feasting on his favorite meal. He wanted his fill twice a day and three times on Sunday. He’d forgotten they were business partners while his body was still buzzing with the aftershocks, but eventually reality set in. She was a means to an end, no matter how the sex made him feel. They needed to have a conversation because for this to work, they needed to communicate. And he needed to know she wouldn’t run off at the sign of hesitation again, because if she did, he wasn’t touching her anymore, no matter how sweet the pussy.
“Do we have to do this right now?” she asked into his chest, hiding her face away from him.
And now she’s hiding, he thought, tipping her chin up so she looked at him. The panicked look in those whiskey-brown eyes pleaded for him to tread carefully. He was taken aback at how she avoided their need for clarification, given she was the one who walked out on him.
“We need to talk,” he told her again, trying to soothe a spooked animal.
“I know,” she agreed, “but it’s been a shit day, and I just want to go home and sleep like the dead before we talk. I shouldn’t have been hiding this last week, although I had my reasons, but today reminded me more than ever why I even contacted you
in the first place.”
“Come with me.” This was skirting the line, and he had no right to demand it of her, but he needed to do something about the shadows in her eyes. She’d texted him to make it better, the orgasm merely one thing he could do in a long list of things. Besides, he wasn’t going back to the club, and she still looked so damn sad.
Not your problem, he reminded himself, but shut it down when she nodded. And wasn’t that a burst of confidence? He had to show her he was serious. Holding the door for her as she got in his car, he then walked around and jumped in. Lost in thought, she rubbed her hands on the dashboard, the rumble of the engine shaking her out of her stupor.
“I can’t believe you had sex on this beauty,” she muttered, continuing the rub-down of the leather like it was her lover’s body. Like it was his body. He fidgeted in his seat, adjusting himself.
“I can’t believe you’ve never had sex on a car,” he countered, because she seemed hung up on it.
“I never said that. There was this truck in the back of a bar one time…” She grinned up at him.
He stopped her right there. “TMI. Word to the wise—the guy you just had sex with doesn’t want to hear about who you had sex with before.”
“Noted.” Conversation over, they sat in comfortable silence while he drove toward his destination. A place of his past, where he used to hang out when he needed some peace and quiet above the city. It would be perfect to take her where they could talk quietly and not be disturbed.
“What is this place?” Alexandra broke the silence when Roman drove down the darkened lane.
“It’s the back of Greenwood Park.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “And why are you taking me to the park in the middle of the night? Don’t you know this is how murder shows start?”
He chuckled. “You should probably lay off Dateline. Nothing’s going to happen, I just want to show you something.” She stared out the window, watching their surroundings.
She sighed as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, running her hands through her hair in agitation. “Why are you doing this, Roman? I didn’t think you wanted to be friends.”
And didn’t her statement make him feel like a winner? They weren’t friends, but he needed her trust for this to work.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have contacted you tonight, but I needed something, and you were the person I texted. I mean, I know we discussed our relationship before I walked out, but I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Lucky me,” he muttered.
She shrugged, as though she wasn’t peering down her nose at him for trying to be a decent gentleman. He tried to control his anger, but was too used to other people looking down at him for his club. Not her. Not when he was bending his rules for her. He shifted the car in park and turned it off, throwing his arm across the back of her seat so he could look her in the eyes.
“You think I don’t know what this is? I do. I’m not some girl who’s going to get her feelings hurt because you want to keep this sexual. If you recall, I wasn’t going to have a sexual relationship with you, but you pushed. And then you pulled back last week and disappeared as though you felt threatened. Sorry if I was trying to be hospitable because you said you had a shit day and looked like you needed a distraction. But let’s clear the air in case you were worried I was developing feelings for you.
“Do I find you attractive? Yes, and most men would. Do I want to fuck you? Yes. I’ve told you that from the beginning, and it hasn’t changed now. Am I still willing to go forth with our original agreement? Yes, granted we abide by the terms. Am I going to continue to allow you to jerk me around like a bull with a ring in its nose? Hell no. I want to sleep with you, not date you, and the sooner you get that fact through your head, the sooner you won’t get your panties in a twist thinking I’m here for nefarious reasons. Now, get out of the car, please.” He left, not waiting for her response, walking outside to dispel some of the anger left over from his outburst. She owed him nothing, but the frustration from the day had caught up to him as well, ending in his little tirade.
He leaned on the hood of his car, watching the skyline, the view he wanted Alexandra to experience. The door shut behind him, and he felt her more than heard her walk toward him.
“This seat taken?”
He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered, taking in the sights and sounds in front of her. “I’ve never been here. And I may have been a bit of a bitch.”
“You may have,” he agreed, grinning when she elbowed him. “And I may have lost it on you. Look, I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know it’s not in me to leave someone who seems so damn depressed. This is new to me, so I’m making it up as we go. I’d like to think we’re friends since we’ll be having sex on the regular. Sorry if I overstepped my bounds suggesting something you weren’t comfortable doing tonight. No one knows you’re with me.”
Alexandra shook her head in disagreement. “It’s not you. Which is probably the oldest line in the book, but I'm dead serious. Have you ever felt helpless? Like truly helpless? You know what needs to be done, but you don’t know if the tools at your disposal are enough to make it work.”
He considered her question, but couldn’t think of a situation where there was nothing he could do. There was always something to do. “Are you sure it’s helplessness?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed and he threw his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. “My job is amazing sometimes. I’m following in my father’s footsteps with a profession that would make him proud.” He tamped down his argument about the greatness of her father. She was working without all the information, and Roman didn’t want to burst her bubble.
“Sometimes, the weight of having people’s lives in my hand is overwhelming and stressful. I always believe I’m Superwoman. Until I’m not. I messed up at work today, and my boss yelled at me because it’s one of our biggest accounts. He told me if I wanted to be partner, I should show him I’m capable. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place because I acted in response to my client, but I can’t blame him. I’m supposed to deal with it, no questions asked, but I’m not immune to basic human fallacies.”
“Would anyone else have handled it differently?” She laid her head on his shoulder and shrugged, the movement awkward because she was under his arm. “I’m asking because if you did the best you could given the situation, you don’t have anything to feel guilty about. It doesn’t matter what your boss or anyone else says.”
“That was just this afternoon.” She sighed. “I haven’t even begun to cover my morning, where a big, fat reality check slapped me in the face and told me I have to be on my A-game or else I’m going to fuck up someone’s life.”
He rubbed her arms when she shivered, trying to provide comfort or warmth, whichever she needed. “Have you ever sat above the city and watched people?”
“Not really. This is my first time.”
“So I popped your skyline cherry?” He couldn’t resist; she’d walked right into that one. She turned her head into his chest, but not before he saw the blush.
“You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Yes, I do. A girl’s first time is important.” He imagined her rolling her eyes at that one, but kept quiet. “But as I was saying before you granted my wish, look down there.” He watched the flashes of light rushing through the streets, as though they couldn’t wait to get to their destination. “What do you see? Besides The Flash?”
“It looks like a ball of chaos,” she observed. “Over there,” she pointed at one area, “you have a bunch of people stuck in traffic. While in other parts,” she gestured to other places, “you have people rushing around almost like animals at a feeding trough—pushing and passing to get where they need to be.”
“Exactly,” he began. “You see all these flashes of light running around, going who knows where? Who even cares? Everybody’s running around, searching f
or something. Even people who are stuck in traffic. Seeking home, pleasure, their next fix. They may be escaping, seeking shelter from their pain, or from those who harm them. Or they may be stuck in a situation they have limited control over. What they all have in common, despite their reasons, is they’re all moving. Hopefully forward, but sometimes you have to either go back or stay in place for a minute before you can go forward. Today may have been a setback, but that’s all it was, and so long as you keep moving toward your goal you’re going to accomplish what you want. You’re too determined not to.”
“Spoken from experience?”
“Me?” He wanted to tell her then, spill his guts about why he really wanted the house, but she wasn’t a neutral party he could unload on who could offer insight about how to proceed. She was related to one of the people he hated the most, and the sole reason he wanted to obtain the house. He refused to burden her with his issues when she was so weighted down by her own. “Nah, I just surpass the competition.”
“Cocky.” She grinned, the first genuine smile he’d seen from her all night. Even when he was pounding inside her, he could tell she’d been disengaged, her mind a million miles away.
“Maybe,” he conceded, “but at least I get stuff done.”
“Speaking of,” she hedged. “I should apologize for the other day. You did nothing wrong, and I got spooked for some reason and wanted space. My reasons are my own, and there’s no excuse. I will try my best not to do it again.”
“Do what again?” he asked for clarification, because there were quite a few things she did in the last couple days. “Run out on me? Ignore me like we’re ten and I stole your toy on the playground? Text me in desperation? Or have sex with me again?”
She narrowed her eyes, lips pursed in frustration. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit annoying sometimes?”
“I’m honest,” he corrected. “I would apologize if it pisses you off, but I’m not sorry. I don’t pull punches for anyone, even someone who looks as good in a skirt as you do.”
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