by Gephart, T
He grinned, starting the ignition and pulling out of his parking garage. “Good, that’s what it’s all about, Harper.”
Music played softly as we drove back to my place, his hand occasionally resting on my knee in between changing gears. It felt so good being beside him that I wished I lived in San Diego, the drive ending way too soon.
He didn’t get out of the car when we got to my apartment; he reached across and gave me one last kiss and watched me get out. I felt his eyes on me as I unlocked the security door, waiting in his idling car until I was safely inside.
Then I climbed the stairs to my front door, Morgan waiting up for me as usual.
“You live,” she cheered as I walked through the living room. “Good, that means Roman does too. You know I hate motorbikes. I should force him to come sit in on just one trauma accident and see how he feels about those death traps.”
“It was fine.” I yawned, suddenly feeling more tired than I’d been all night. “He was careful and it was fun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rose to her feet. “Let’s agree to disagree, shall we. I’ll see you in the morning.” She waved as she headed to her bedroom.
“Uh-hmm,” I mumbled as I waved back. “I’ll be here.”
Instead of being tucked up beside Roman, I chose to go to bed alone and conflicted.
So much for being smart.
Dumbass.
He didn’t call Saturday.
Or Sunday.
I checked my phone maybe a dozen times to make sure it was on, the battery was charged, and that I had service. And even though all those things had been in my favor, he still didn’t call.
And the worst part was, I didn’t call either.
It was exactly like last weekend, a weird sort of limbo where I wanted to pick up the phone and tell him to come over, but I didn’t.
Because he hadn’t called, so I didn’t think I should either.
Ugh.
When did I turn into a moron with no backbone? I couldn’t decide if the lack of communication made me look like a badass, or if it was just plain stupid.
By Monday morning, the jury was still out.
“On your desk.”
The sound of his voice made my head snap to attention, I had come in early and wasn’t expecting to see him so soon.
I tried to sound casual, leaning back leisurely in my chair. “Why do I need to be on my desk, Roman?”
He locked the door behind him as he moved closer. “You know why.”
Just like last week, he pulled me out of my chair and kissed me roughly, only this time it had been without the argumentative foreplay. There wasn’t a lot of talk at all to be honest, his mouth dominating mine as he edged me to my desk.
While Friday night he’d been soft and slow, Monday he was hard and fast.
Both of us clawed at each other, him lifting my skirt and pulling down my panties, while I undid his pants and yanked down his boxer briefs.
Almost as if the separation had made us crazed, he couldn’t get the condom on quick enough, thrusting inside of me the minute he was covered.
And I had been more than ready.
I’d thought about him all weekend, about doing this, about kissing him, about being with him.
He was giving me what I had wanted Friday night before I left.
Showing me how desperately he wanted me.
And it didn’t feel weak at all.
We both came in a panted rush, his mouth finding mine as he kissed me.
“You have a good weekend?” His lips moved down to my neck where he sucked my skin hard.
I grinned, the sensation driving me crazy while he was still inside of me. “You know, I’ve had better.”
“We should work on that then.” His tongue traveled up along my throat to my jaw. “Now that we’ve taken care of that, we should probably get ready for that nine a.m. meeting. Daniel will be pissed if we’re late.”
He grabbed the tissues off my desk and cleaned up before helping me do the same.
I straightened my skirt, fishing my underwear off the floor and slipping them back on. “If I recall, last week was your fault.”
He laughed, standing up to adjust himself in his pants. “Yeah, all my fault. I remember how much you complained.” He leaned forward and kissed me. “Now, if you’re done tossing accusations, we’ve got a big week.”
“There’s the door, Pierce.” I pointed to said door. “No one is keeping you here.”
“I know where the door is, Harper. I’m exercising my right not to use it.” He zipped, shooting me a wink before he left. “We’ll pick up from where we left off tonight. If your sister is working, we’ll go back to your house. Less chance of you running off. I’m not sure I’ll be so accommodating in letting you go this time around.”
I swallowed hard as he closed the door behind him, my body still tingling from his kisses and his touch.
Morgan was working tonight, but even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t have changed anything.
I wanted him.
And he wanted me.
I wasn’t running anywhere.
THERE WAS A CERTAIN AMOUNT of anxiety that came with Friday.
We had spent every night together during the week, but no talk of what was expected for the two days between now and Monday.
Last weekend we had spent it apart, like the one before that.
There had been no discussion and/or plan for it, the abstinence more stupidity than anything else. We just said goodbye after our amazing Friday night date until our hello sex on my desk on Monday.
And while the first time it had been his doing, last weekend it had been all mine. It was stupid really, the thought that I couldn’t tell him I wanted to be with him on the weekends too. And while I didn’t think he’d spend them with other people, I envied those hours he’d spent alone, wishing he’d spent them with me. My pulse still raced when I thought about it, wondering if he’d thought about me, like I’d thought about him.
But this week had been different, and I wasn’t sure I could quit him cold turkey even if it was only for forty-eight hours.
The whole day he didn’t say anything. Made no plans for dinner or ask about Morgan’s work schedule—anything to hint that he wanted to see me.
Nothing.
And with daylight hours expiring, I was starting to get edgy. I didn’t want another weekend without him. The sweet burn of addiction licked at my heels as my mood turned to irritation.
But I wasn’t going to be the first one to crack.
It was almost five and I was just about to leave, when he opened the door of my office, came inside and closed it behind him.
“Are you going home?” His eyes snared on the handbag over my shoulder and my phone in my hand. It wasn’t a hard deduction to make that I was leaving for the day.
“Yes, all done.”
I gave him nothing, nothing, as I stood unable to actually leave unless he moved from in front of the door. It might have taken a while, but I was patient. I hadn’t come that far to throw in the towel.
He didn’t move, his tall strong frame tensed as his eyes moved over my body. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight. Wear something nice. Pick you up at seven.”
“I’m sorry, did you ask me something?” My head tilted to the side as I narrowed my eyes. “I heard a bunch of words, sounded like a list of demands or something.”
“No, Harper.” His eyes darkened, stalking closer. “A demand would have been to tell you to get on your knees and suck my dick. Me taking you to dinner is continuing with the exact thing we have been doing all week. Do you still want me to ask, or can we stop pretending it’s not what both of us want?”
“I wasn’t sure.” It was the first time I’d shown him any vulnerability, nervous about seeming weak. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“That’s the difference between you and me.” His fingers ran up my arms, ghosting my skin before they settled on my chin. “I don’t waste time thinking about things I don’
t want.”
He pulled my body flush against his as he kissed me, every part of him unapologetic as his hands crawled over me. It was more than just flirting, the kisses getting deeper as I reached down between us and palmed him.
Hard.
So hard for me and the doubt and hesitation I’d felt all through the day eased away in a heady, heated rush.
I heard his zipper, one of his hands disappearing from my body as he undid his pants.
Desk sex had been a Monday thing. Something we had used to knock the edge off after the weekend break, a quick gorge on each other so we could get through the day until we could resume our weekday nocturnal debauchery.
But it was Friday, and if he had plans to take me to dinner and sleep with me, there wasn’t going to be a break this time.
We had all night.
Why the sudden urgency?
“What are you doing?” My hand replaced his down at his fly, pulling free his hard length and giving it a stroke.
His fingers reached underneath the hem of my dress, climbing higher toward my underwear. “You would think with the amount of times we’ve done this, that would be self explanatory.”
“But why not wait?” My body wanted him even if my brain didn’t understand it, my mouth kissing him even though I’d asked the question.
There was a desperation in his voice that I hadn’t heard before, need ringing in each breath as he looked at me. “Because I can’t wait.”
My handbag dropped to the floor as I reached behind him and locked the door. Mondays seemed safer; everyone too busy or distracted—less chance of them walking in on us when they had deadlines breathing down their necks.
Friday didn’t give the same assurances with the odds of someone stopping on their way out the door, huge.
“Roman, we shouldn’t do this here.” I hated saying no, hated that I was the one being responsible, because I loved being reckless with him.
He blew out a long steady breath, his chest falling on the exhale. “You’re right.”
I’d never heard him say those words, ever. Not to me, to the partners, or in a courtroom. If anything, he’d actively avoided them. Using creative workarounds to agree without admitting fault or error. It was an art form, and when I wasn’t a recipient of his smooth redirection, it was beautiful to watch.
“You think I’m right?” My hands fisted at his shirt, pressing him further against the door.
“One time, Harper, so I hope you enjoyed it,” he warned. “You won’t get me to say it again.”
“I don’t need you to.” I kissed him again, this time it was me who was the aggressor. His body accepted mine as I rocked against him, needing as much contact as I could get.
“I thought we agreed this wasn’t a good idea.” He chuckled, letting me set the tempo as he watched with curiosity.
I slid my underwear down my legs, rational thought flying out the window as excitement flooded me.
He had given me something he’d never given anyone else. Other women might have had his body, occupied his mind, and even shared his time, but the significance of that admission was not wasted on me. His defenses had been lowered, whether he’d intended to or not, and in that brief moment, he had shown me a part I’d never seen.
Like I had been vulnerable earlier, so had he, and there was something so freaking hot about that, I couldn’t wait either.
“We did agree, but I changed my mind. So shut up and we’ll both stop pretending this isn’t what we want.”
His eyes darkened as his own words were thrown back at him while rough hands shoved down pants. “I need a condom. Now.”
My fingers fished into his pocket and I knew I’d find one there. It had become a habit I was fond of, and right now so glad he was always so prepared.
I tore open the package and slid it on him, licking my lips as I rolled it down.
“Bend over.” His hands grabbed my hips and spun me away from him, moving me forward toward my desk. With flat palms, I braced myself, looking at him over my shoulder as he lifted my dress to my waist and situated himself behind me. “Did you think I was going to give this up for two whole days?” His hands slid up my legs, moving closer to my center. “Not a chance.”
“Stop talking, Roman,” I begged, wanting him to touch me. “You’re not here for conversation.”
He laughed, a single finger edging down the crease of my ass, teasing me. “No, I’m not.” He dipped lower, coating himself in my heat. “Conversation is overrated.”
One finger, then two, entered me as my hips rocked against him—the sensation feeling so good and all he’d used was his hand.
“That feels—” The words got lost in my throat as he played, alternating between thrusting inside of me and rubbing my clit. The anticipation building as the head of his cock nudged at my entrance.
“Roman, please.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever begged me before.” He pushed in a little, nowhere near enough as he held me still. “I like it when you beg, Lauren.”
“Then I won’t.” I tried to push back, hoping to get him deeper. “I don’t care what you like.”
He rocked his hips a little more, giving me another inch. “You are such a liar.” Another inch. “God, you feel so good.”
A moan echoed throughout the room, and I realized it was mine, the sound escaping from my lips as he thrust all the way, filling me. “More.”
He didn’t stop, finding his rhythm as one hand steadied me and the other played with my clit. My knuckles turned white as they tented against the top of the desk, the tips of my fingers gripping the wood as I circled my hips against him.
Alternating between fast and slow, hard and soft, he drove into me.
Madness. Sweet madness, and I couldn’t get enough.
“Roman,” I bit down on my lip to stop myself from screaming. “Please.”
He laughed, possibly amused that my refusal to beg hadn’t lasted long but I didn’t care. I wanted him, wanted him so much I ached.
“Come for me, Lauren.”
He thrust into me and I came apart. My body shook as rivulets of pleasure ran through me, Roman finding his finish soon after. My hand clamped over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut trying to be quiet. Our labored breathing sounded louder in the silent room.
“I’m not done.” He continued to move, slowly rocking in and out. “I love feeling you come. Feeling you squeeze my cock.”
I liked it too, staying still as the tiny pulses continued to radiate through me.
“Driving home is going to be interesting.” I twisted to look at him. “My legs feel like jelly.”
He slowly pulled out, grabbing the tissues off the desk and cleaned us both up. “Don’t forget what I said, dinner at seven.”
“Yes, I remember. Dress nice.” I lifted off the desk and straightened myself. “Where are you taking me?”
I wondered if the dress nice part had been for his benefit or if we were going somewhere that had a dress code. After last Friday’s adventure, I didn’t care to ask any questions. I knew I was going to love whatever he had planned.
Done with removing the condom, he zipped up, giving me a smile I knew meant trouble. “You’ll see when you get there.”
“Great.” I should have known better than to expect a straight answer. “Can’t wait.”
SITTING IN HIS FERRARI WOULD never feel ordinary.
It wasn’t that it was a flashy Italian sports car, or that it cost an obscene amount of money. It was that I was sitting inside a Ferrari with Roman.
A man who, in the past, I could barely stand to be around.
And while my feelings had definitely changed, other things hadn’t.
At work, he had remained the same. Unyielding in his sometimes stubborn stance, fierce and with a tendency to be a prick. We battled across the table as much as we’d done before, with Roman pulling no punches despite sleeping in my bed.
He didn’t coddle me, treat me different or give me a break. He expecte
d my best, and I thrived because of it. And in turn he was the same brilliant asshole who seemed to have a photographic memory when it came to the law.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that working alongside of him—even if we were on opposite sides of an issue—made me a better attorney.
And I loved that he wasn’t threatened.
I rolled my head to the side, staring out the window as I smiled in silent contentment as we drove. He still hadn’t told me where we were going, and other than telling me that I looked amazing—the A-line satin floral skirt and black off the shoulder top meeting his standard of nice—he was being cagey.
But the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place when we arrived in the residential part of Beverly Hills. The expensive part, with their big iron gates.
“We’re going to your brother’s house?” I wasn’t sure if I was nervous or excited, my fingers curling around my seatbelt as we got closer to Eric’s house.
“Yeah, it’s the rehearsal dinner for his and Tia’s wedding, and my presence is required even though I’m not in the wedding. I couldn’t get out of it,” he said casually, like we were heading to a friend’s house for barbeque.
“Oh my God,” I screamed, my eyelids peeling back to wide-eyed panic. “Stop the car.”
He ignored both my animated waving and insistence to stop, shrugging like I had been the crazy one. “Why?”
I almost choked, unsure of how he could not understand how bad an idea it was. It was as if common sense had been left on the curb somewhere and in its place was a bunch of dumb.
“You can not take me on a date to your brother’s rehearsal dinner.” I stated the obvious, because clearly he couldn’t get there on his own. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I shoved his arm hoping he might take the hint and pull over.
“What do you mean, what is wrong with me?” He laughed, keeping his eyes on the road and showing no signs of slowing down. “We’re going to my brother’s house for dinner, it’s not a big deal.”
I scoffed, the amount of ridiculous in that statement almost too much to bear.
“Even if he wasn’t a famous actor—which he is—and even if I hadn’t only met him once—which I did—this kind of event is usually for family and close friends, by invite only. You can’t just bring some random date who hasn’t even met the rest of your family,” I continued, because that wasn’t even close to all I had to say on the matter. “Not to mention that I was his fiancée’s attorney for the prenuptial agreement he didn’t want. I don’t think he’s going to be thrilled to see me, and I’m almost positive they will not want me there.”