"After you, Bitsy." He says to me in an extra flirty way.
He's got balls. I'll give Ethan that.
"Don't fucking call her that!" Roman roars.
I see a recognizable glint of satisfaction sparkling in Ethan's eyes. He thoroughly enjoyed that he was able to at least instigate that outburst from Roman.
"I don't like your cousin." Ethan says to me out in the hallway.
"That's all right," I say annoyed. "He doesn't like you either."
"He's weird with you."
"Yeah?" I say like I don't have any idea what he's talking about, especially because I don't think I really give two cents what he thinks.
"He treats you like a possession. Like you're his property."
Sometimes I think I am. Or that I desperately want to be.
"He's just intense." I wave my hand to change the conversation. "Listen … I just wanted to tell you that I'm trying really hard to put everything that happened with you behind me. I didn't bring the police into it for a reason. I just want to move on with my life.
"I'm trying to build a new business and live quietly. I don't care that you lied about rehab, I don't really give a rats ass where you've been, although I don't understand why you felt the need to lie to me. I just want to make it crystal clear that when you move back to Philly, I think it's best that you don't contact me at all."
"Tick. Tock." Roman's verbal warning comes crisp and clear through the door.
"Bitsy, we were good together for a year. I waited for you for a year. Everything was fine between us until that night. I want a second chance. There are worse people like murderers and rapists who get second chances. I was sick. An addict. I'm getting better now on my own, and all I'm asking for is a second chance. If you give me a second, I can explain everything about rehab. Your cousin doesn't have it right. Just give me a chance to explain."
"It doesn't really matter anymore Ethan. I'm sorry but no."
I don't even think that I'm really sorry at all, but it sounds like the right thing to say. Actually turning him down feels like the best thing I've done in a long time. Looking back, I realize we were never right for each other anyway. Drugs or no drugs.
"This isn't done. We aren't done, Bitsy."
The hotel room door opens.
"Three minutes is up motherfucker. You're very much done. Come inside now, Elizabeth." Roman says while looking straight into the eyes of Ethan with deadly calm.
I give one last glance to the man I thought would possibly be my future and say goodbye. A final goodbye.
"Bye Ethan.”
I don't know why, but I feel a little melancholy about it. Like a chapter of my life has been written to completion. A necessary close to that chapter, but it doesn't make it any less sad.
"Not bye, Bitsy, just later." Ethan says as he walks down the hall towards the elevator.
"Whatever motherfucker." Roman says to Ethan's back.
But I know that Ethan's just saving face. We're done and he knows it. I mean he must know it. How could I ever trust him again after all that's happened? All the lies he's told. He's got to know that. He's not a complete idiot, and if I want to be brutally honest with myself right now, he was never that into me anyway. He was always distracted with swimming, with other girls, and evidently also with getting high.
"I better not see one fucking tear roll down your face." Roman snarls at me as I move past him to go back inside the room.
"Oh shut up, Roman."
CHAPTER SIX
ROMAN
"Are you awake?"
"What time is it?" I ask with a scratchy rasp and sleep in my voice.
"I don't know. Probably check out time."
After I stood in the hallway and watched Mr. Ethan Dumbfuck get on the elevator and out of my cousin's life for good, Elizabeth and I both returned inside the room and got totally twisted on mini bar alcohol for the rest of the night.
I mixed us my own version of Bahamian Rum punch, ordered us two plates of conch and pigeon peas from room service, and then we actually made it through two and a half movies (her choice) before we passed out.
In the middle of all of that, I cussed her the hell out for leaving the country without telling me, and she admonished me for flying all the way here without permission. As if I give a fuck about getting permission.
After we got all of that out of the way, I asked her how she thought her pitch meeting went, and then she spent the next twenty minutes reenacting her entire pitch with a little commentary on the side.
I assured her that it sounded great to me and that her tight ass pencil skirt probably went a long way in sealing the deal (she put the skirt back on as part of the reenactment scene for effect). She looked sexy as fuck. I think I must have laughed all night. Outwardly a couple of times and inside my head many, many more times. That's just how easy things can be between us.
I also made sure that I didn't touch her. And that was no easy feat seeing as how we've just slept in the same bed. I promised myself that if it was going to ever happen again between us, she was going to have to ask for it. Preferably beg for it. I'm not going to be responsible for scaring the hell out of her a second time by moving too fast. Although I've been known to bend my own rules from time to time.
"What time is your flight?" I ask her with ulterior motives.
My dick is brick hard and aching.
I make sure to keep the pristine Egyptian cotton sheets covering my morning wood as I roll my body over closer to hers. We're on our sides, her back against my chest, with only the sheet between my boxers and her vintage Rolling Stones T-shirt and red panties.
Dammit.
I can feel my will bending and breaking. I’m not sure I can wait for her to ask for it. I take a long eye-fucking look of her lush body and can't but help but start to run the backs of my fingertips along the curves of her body. I start at the crease of her armpit and travel along the side of her breast, the dip of her waist, the arc of her hips, and finally down to her smooth thighs. I can only imagine what they'd both feel like draped over my shoulders as I stroked deep and long inside of her.
Like absolute fucking heaven.
"What are you doing?" She asks with a flirty tone that I'm all too familiar with. It's the voice universally used by women everywhere. I know what it means. It's a green light to take this wherever I want to take it.
But didn't I just say I wanted her to beg?
Damn, I'm a weak fucker.
"Nothing quite yet, but why don't you just tell me what it is you want me to do to you."
There's silence between us for a moment. A bit of heavy breathing. She's making the decision right now. I feel a slight bit of tension in her body, but that doesn't mean she's going to shut this down. In my experience, it could mean that she's simply getting the nerve up to tell me exactly what she really wants. I hope like hell it's the latter.
"I want you to touch me."
Motherfucking bingo.
"Touch you where?" I ask provocatively.
"Under my shirt."
"Under your shirt where?" I ask while softly licking the rim of her ear.
She lets out a few little soft gasps and then a few giggles.
"Here." She touches her breasts. "And also down there. Inside my panties."
I love this sexy, playful side of her.
"You do huh?"
"I really do."
We're both laying on our right sides, so I reach my left arm around and slide it down inside the front of her panties.
"Goddammit you're soaking, Duchess."
"I know." She whispers.
"How did you get yourself in such a state?" I tease.
"From thinking about you all night."
My grin is a mile wide, but I keep it to myself, since I'm still lying behind her.
"Thinking about what baby?"
"Your face in between my legs."
That may not be her begging, but it's a strong ass fucking request. So I decide to comply by unwrappin
g the sheet from around me and sliding my head down under it and in between her legs. And I can't wait because I love the taste and smell of Elizabeth's pussy.
I think it’s my new addiction.
I'm not going to lie and say that it smells like strawberries or fresh rain showers; any man who says that is a fucking liar. But what I will say is that she has a taste and scent that is completely unique to her, one that lets me know that she's very happy to see me. A mixture of salt, musk, want, need and pleasure that is totally distinctive to her, and one that I crave like a fat kid loves cake.
While I'm happy as fuck to be in between my cousin's legs, I can't forget the details of what brought me here. Why I'm blowing off work. Why I just overpaid for a typically affordable airplane ticket. Why I can't seem to get my head on straight when it comes to her.
Well maybe I can forget why for just a little bit longer.
"How do you know how to do that?" She asks in complete rapture. "You're ruining me."
“That’s the objective baby."
"Oh. My. God!"
I can feel her body tensing as the slow winding orgasm builds higher inside of her. She's ready to come for me, but she's been a naughty girl, and I can't let that shit slide. That's why I immediately stop all licking, sucking and kissing.
"Roman." She cries out in frustration. Beating her fist against the mattress.
"I don't want you to ever take a trip like this again without calling me first, Elizabeth."
"I told Joseph and Juliette where I was going." She protests.
"I don't have shit to do with that. You and I both know that this is way past Joseph asking me to keep an eye on you. We have our own relationship now, which is separate and apart from Joseph and Juliette. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I guess so."
"What now?"
"Yes, Roman. Yes."
"Good. I'm glad you're starting to see the light. Now you knew I was probably going crazy at home when I found out you were in the Bahamas all alone right?"
"Well not exactly. I'm a grown ass woman. Why would you be sick with worry? It makes zero sense."
"Zero sense when your cell phone wasn't working, and your sorry ass ex is here stalking you?"
"He isn't stalking me." She says rubbing her legs together like a horny cricket.
If I wasn't trying to prove a point right now, I'd kiss the hell out of her. She wants me inside her so badly, and I'm the lucky son of a bitch who is going to get to come inside. Pun absolutely intended.
"Please can we stop talking about him?" She says.
I laugh to myself.
"We sure can baby, but let me just finish my thought. Your sudden disappearing act was a distraction for me, and I don't like distractions. My business is very important to me."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying spread your fucking legs and take your punishment like a good girl."
She smiles as if she won some sort of prize. Totally misunderstanding what I'm about to do to her.
She'll understand soon.
"Ok." She agrees softly.
I smile and then return back to what is turning out to be my new favorite place on earth.
Between my cousin's legs.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELIZABETH
A thin layer of sweat covers my trembling body as I clench the sheets of the California king bed that I'm spread eagle on. I have had three earth shattering orgasms in the last fifteen minutes thanks to the extraordinary skills of one Mr. Roman Masterson, and while I appreciate the effort, I don't think that I'm physically capable of having another.
I'm pretty sure if I do that my head may explode. If I could, I would run out of this room and jump into the hotel lagoon to cool off and come down off of this orgasm high. But that seems to be Mr. Masterson's sinister plan or punishment, because he's only stopping for a moment in between orgasms, to talk to me, and give me a second to come down, and then he starts it all over again.
And again.
And again.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He says while methodically stroking the inside of my thighs with his thumbs, the rest of his hands kneading my hips. The sensation of his callused hands rubbing against my dewy skin purposely keeping me slightly simmering but not quite blazing hot for him.
"Roman." I moan.
"Yes baby."
"I need you to stop."
"I'm not stopping."
"Do you really want my parents to bear the shame of burying a daughter who died at the hands of an orgasm?"
“You mean multiple orgasms."
"Yes, you sadist. Multiple orgasms."
"A sadist would enjoy hurting you. That’s not what I do. This doesn't hurt does it, Duchess?"
"Stop calling me that."
"Now why would I do that?"
"’Cause I'm mad at you."
He starts sliding one of his thick fingers inside of my sex, then back out, and then in again. It's the second entry that makes me arch my back off the bed. When he pulls his finger back out the second time he slides it slowly inside his mouth and sucks hard.
"Mmmm."
"You're so frackin' nasty." I say pretending not to be totally turned on by what he just did.
"And you're so fucking wet for me." He chuckles. "Can you even say the word fucking Duchess?"
I shake my head no. "I don't say that or the p word. Well I say the p word to myself but never out loud."
"You mean the word pussy?"
And before I can respond, Roman's mouth is covering my mouth. I can taste a hint of myself on his tongue as he thrusts it expertly inside. He kisses the same way he does everything. Setting the tempo, doing it as if he was born already knowing what to do, and enjoying every minute of it.
One of his hands makes it way back between my legs and he starts fingering me again while using his thumb to rub back and forth over my clit. I'm utterly exhausted, but it's like my body has a mind of its own and responds willingly to every one of Roman's ministrations.
"Masterson–" I sigh.
"I love it when you call my name out baby, but this time I'm going to need you to say it louder. Loud enough that everyone on this floor knows whose pussy this belongs to."
I wish he'd stop frackin' talking!
I'm trying my best to hold off this next orgasm. I'm trying everything to get my head out of the game. I think of oral book reports, global warming, and those god-awful animal cruelty commercials, but none of it's working.
Everything he says makes me hornier, and everything he's doing feels ridiculously good especially the loud smack he gives me on my right ass cheek.
"Open your eyes now.”
"You didn't have to smack my butt." I falsely protest.
"I think I did have to, and I think you liked it. You're even wetter now, and I've got your full attention."
Roman starts working a second hard-edged finger inside of my core and moving his thumb more rapidly across my clit. It's taking a lot longer for my orgasm to build this time and it’s blissfully excruciating. Each one is taking longer than the last, but it's coming. It started as a dull ache that is building into a crescendo of pure agony.
"You ever been fucked, Duchess?"
Is he kidding right now? He can't possibly think I'm going to have an X-rated Q&A session while he's doing all of this to me.
"I can do this shit all night." He grins devilishly. "You'd do best to answer me."
"Obviously, Roman. You know better than anyone that I'm not a virgin."
His hand stops. "No baby. I mean fucked well and properly."
"If the sex I had with you before counts … then yes."
He chuckles. "I can do better than that."
He slides back under the covers where his head disappears, and in exactly one more minute I come so hard that my eyes roll into the back of my head, and my hands and feet start to tingle.
"Oh God! "
"Who?" He bites gently on my clit; further drawing out my climax.
&
nbsp; "Masterson!"
"That's fucking right baby. Next time say the right name the first time. God has nothing to do with this."
"Next time?" I cry.
"Oh fuck yeah. I figure you have about three or four more left in you even if it takes us all day to get you there. This is your punishment, Elizabeth."
"I've got to check out of the room. I don't have all day to subject myself to your brand of torture."
"I'll take care of it."
"I don't want you in between my legs all day." Did I really just say that?
"You're an awful liar, Duchess. You know you want me right here," he gently pats my pussy. "All fucking day."
"I'm not lying. You're just incredibly arrogant."
***
Roman gave me a fifteen minute break in between orgasms, so that he could call down to the front desk and book my room an additional night, even though he already has his own room on the same floor. Something about not giving me the chance to put on any clothes. This way I'd stay “naked and spread” all day for him is how I think the Neanderthal put it.
I am starting to feel dirty. Well … dirtier. Almost like I'm his personal sex slave, except for the obvious fact that I am reaping all the benefits of this arrangement.
I'm at orgasm seven.
My clitoris is swollen and over-sensitized. My head is pounding from the constant adrenaline rush to my brain. Tears are starting to fall. I literally can't take anymore. This is definitely an exquisite punishment, but I think it needs to stop before I pass the hell out. I'm not sure he cares though; he's enjoying every minute of this, maybe more than I am. If that's even possible.
"Roman." I say seriously.
"Elizabeth." He retorts.
"You've made your point."
"Have I?"
"I was a bad girl. I didn't call you before I left."
"And?"
"And I allowed Ethan up to my room when I should have ignored him entirely."
"And?"
I thought hard.
"And … I don't know."
"The money."
"Oh and I didn't tell you how much money they took from me?”
He smiles in approval. "Exactly. And of course there's the bigger issue."
Cousins (Cousins #2) Page 5