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Rainy Day Lovers (The Rocklyns Book 3)

Page 6

by Alicia Street


  He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his, sending a wave of raw desire right through her. Despite their one dinner date, and their growing friendship as cooking mates, Roman still gave her mixed signals about the “friends only” status they had originally declared.

  Did this mean he was ready to change their terms? Or had he been aiming for this all along and just testing her? Before she could open her mouth and spoil this delicious moment, she told her too rational overactive brain to shut up.

  Rainy had wanted this so badly. She’d been craving another kiss from him for weeks. Hell, she’d been craving a lot more than that whenever she thought of him.

  His tongue nudged her lips and she opened for him, welcoming him into her mouth with a slight moan. Her hands slid inside his denim jacket and around his hard torso. And that wasn’t the only thing that was hard. As Roman’s hands curled around her bottom and tugged her closer, she could feel the steel rod in his jeans. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her sweet spot against his bulge, her clit throbbing, her breath speeding up to match his.

  Rainy was vibrating with such excitement and anticipation that when the ear-splitting crack of thunder came, she almost thought it was inside her.

  Nope. The downpour that immediately followed proved otherwise. They split apart, laughing. The farmhouse was too far away, so she grabbed his hand and ran for an outbuilding.

  It was a small shed-like building with horizontal windows near the ceiling. Rather than being part of the farm’s business, it looked like a private place, with books on a few shelves, a rocking chair, and wooden storage boxes. A large dusty table filled the center of the room. Probably a place where someone sorted and prepared plants for the personal flower garden that Rainy knew was not far from here. Some of the shelves along the side had old flower pots and a few hand tools.

  She and Roman managed to make it to the building without getting totally soaked, although they were both shaking raindrops off their jackets. Roman draped his denim jacket over a wooden chair and then stepped behind Rainy, taking her quilted hoodie from her shoulders and draping it on another chair.

  Rainy was disappointed that they were interrupted by the rain, but she reminded herself that rain was a good omen for her. Okay, it almost never proved to be true, but a part of her clung to that belief. And that emboldened her to turn to Roman and slide one arm around his waist and the other to the back of his neck, pulling his head forward so she could continued the luscious kissing session they were having.

  Roman looked down at her, his dark eyes framed by thick lashes, and without a word he dove in for a kiss, his hands roaming her body.

  Rainy wasn’t sure if it was Roman’s effect on her or just that it had been so long since she’d gotten laid, but within seconds she was panting and whimpering. He pulled the bottom of her cotton turtleneck out of her jeans and slid his hand up to her breast. It was cold, but she was so steaming hot right now that it felt good. So good, that she backed up slightly and tore off her shirt. Roman then unhooked her bra and proceeded to nibble and suck first one breast then the other.

  His hands on her waist, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the table. When he set her butt down on the edge, he leaned over her, grinding into her until she was ready to scream.

  He undid her jeans and pulled them down, as Rainy toed off her shoes. Kissing his way across her flat stomach, he murmured, “Rainy,” in a tone that sounded like worship or something close to adoration. Did he worship all women? Or could it be she actually meant something to him?

  All those thoughts flew out of her head when he cupped her pussy, fondling her clit through he her lace panties—thank goodness she’d decided on the pretty purple ones today. He pulled them off and bent over for a taste. His fingers sliding inside her and his mouth working her clit brought her to a squealing orgasm so fast she was almost embarrassed.

  But he rewarded her with a proud and sexy grin and another round of deep kissing.

  “Do you have a condom?” she whispered in his ear.

  Maybe he wasn’t sure how far she wanted to go, because her question seemed to surprise him and spark a new wave of energy, as he plucked one out of his wallet. To make her point, Rainy reached for his jeans and frantically opened them, shoving them and his boxer briefs down on his thighs, then grabbing his sizable cock and stroking it.

  “Don’t,” he rasped, “or it will be over before we’ve begun.”

  He covered his package and wasted no time impaling her with one strong thrust. Rainy let out a high-pitched gasp his deep sigh. Rainy couldn’t remember when she ever felt so good, so hot that even her nonstop brain shut down and let her just experience the perfection that was Roman Burke.

  He could hardly believe this was happening.

  Rainy in his arms, Rainy’s mouth on his. Rainy’s legs wrapped around him as he slammed into her over and over and over again.

  Her wetness surrounding his cock, her muscles squeezing him.

  Rainy had owned a piece of his heart ever since that day she boldly drove right into the crowd of bullies and made him get into her car.

  Then her lecture, her insistence that he believe in himself, that he care, that he have the courage to try.

  Year after year Roman had dreamed of her, dreamed of this.

  But this was better than any of those fantasies. Better than anything he could have wished for.

  This was Rainy in the flesh—the scent of her, the feel of her silky smooth skin, the sweet little sounds she was making.

  He moaned as he kept driving into her, his eyes riveted on hers. And a deep satisfaction filled him knowing that he, Robbie Makalo, the orphan freak that no woman would ever want, had put that look of ecstatic bliss on her beautiful face.

  “Don’t stop, Roman. Don’t stop,” she mewed.

  Without slowing his relentless pace, he leaned forward and placed a bruising kiss on her rosebud mouth, the mouth he had wanted so badly to someday feel on his own.

  Her hands clinging to him, Rainy screamed out her climax, and he joined her at the peak, exploding in to her, feeling like he had just flung himself off a cliff into dangerous waters.

  And judging by the clenching in his heart at the mere thought of letting go of her, maybe he had.

  Chapter 7

  For the next two weeks Rainy and Roman cooked together for Sydney on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings. When Sydney was feeling poorly he didn’t want anyone but Roman in his room, and she couldn’t blame him. Rainy would eat by herself and have most of the kitchen cleaned up by the time Roman returned

  Each time he would tell her not to do the cleanup, that he or the housekeeper would do it, and each time he’d convince her to stay for coffee or a beer.

  Then they would sit together in one of the many rooms, cuddling on a broad, deep sofa. If it was chilly, Roman would make a fire. Or they might watch a movie or listen to music—luckily they both liked jazz and classical at that hour when they were tired. But Rainy was never too tired to enjoy his kisses and the way he nibbled her ear or ran his tongue along her throat, his hands moving to her breasts. Trouble was, he always pulled back and stopped just when he had her ready to beg him to take her to his room.

  They hadn’t had sex since that day when the downpour sent them to the outbuilding. He’d gotten a phone call from his Physician’s assistant and before she even got her pants back on he was saying he had to leave.

  But that day was so special to her that she kept going back to that building she had dubbed her garden room. She had always loved eating vegetables and buying flowers, and although her dad was more of a businessman, farming was certainly in her blood, so she’d decided to make a flower garden. Not for profit or to help someone out—just to make herself happy. Whether or not Roman chose to take their relationship further or just remain friends.

  They had started texting each other daily, and his messages were more friendly than romantic, but then when they were alone on nights like
this, he seemed to want her again. Until he did his usual pull-back.

  Tonight after a coffee and some chitchat about a surgery he did this morning and what she was planting in her garden project, she stood up and stretched, saying, “I should get going.”

  Roman stood next to her. Very close. “No, don’t. Please.”

  Was he asking her to stay the night? “Um…”

  “Let’s go hang out in my wing,” he whispered. “You know it’s on the other side of the house from Sydney’s rooms?”

  “Yes, you told me, but I’ve never seen that part of the house.”

  He took her hand and started walking past room after room, a library, a gym, a screening room, an office, guest bedrooms, another breakfast room—it went on and on. And with each step Raina found herself getting more jittery.

  Why? Wasn’t this what she wanted?

  “Will Sydney be okay?” she asked.

  “Yes. I like the nurse who’s with him tonight.”

  He opened a door and they stepped into sitting room of blue and gray and green club chairs and sofa. Modern paintings that reminded her of forest and ocean hung on the walls. Just beyond was a king-sized bed and a couple dressers. Glass doors and a balcony.

  She didn’t see Roman as a macho-type of guy, but suddenly he seemed to have an overwhelmingly male presence. As if being in his lair gave him some kind of power.

  “I want to bury myself deep inside you,” he murmured, and I shivered, his words hitting my every nerve.

  Silently, he lifted her cotton shirt and pulled it over her head, then lowered his mouth to her collarbone, his tongue then dipping between her breasts as he removed her bra. Raina let out a soft moan, arching her back as he took her hardened nipple into her mouth. Trailing kisses along her chest and throat, then her jaw, he finally claimed her mouth again. As his tongue dueled with hers, his hands unzipped her jeans and she helped push them down and off, slipping out of her shoes as well.

  Raina palmed his bulge through his running pants, and Roman let out a groan, then wasted no time getting rid of them and his boxer briefs. When he freed his erection and it stood pointing at her in all its glory, Raina couldn’t help grabbing it and stroking the smooth staff.

  Staring at her with an intense look, almost as if he was taking her measure, Roman removed his tee and tossed it to the floor.

  In the soft light, Raina could see mottled scarred skin across his left shoulder and chest area. She could tell by the way he was waiting for her, allowing her time to look, that he wanted her response.

  “What happened to you, Roman?”

  “An accident when I was young.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Does it bother you, Rainy?”

  “No. Of course not.” She could tell he needed to hear that—and that he had no intention of discussing the accident. So she reached out and gently touched the skin where it was scarred and discolored.

  Roman’s eyes closed. Whether it was because he was grateful or turned on, she didn’t know, but she added, “It doesn’t make you any less handsome. You’re still the hottest guy I’ve ever encountered.”

  That brought a grin from him. He tugged her close and kissed her until she could barely remember her name. They stumbled over to the bed and fell onto it, Roman on top of her, his size and weight covering her and feeling wonderful. His shaft pressed into her sweet spot and she writhed under him.

  “Now, Roman, please.”

  “But I wanted to take my time and worship every part of you.” He slipped her panties off and slid two fingers inside her, his thumb circling her clit.

  “Torture me, you mean.” She bit her bottom lip as his ministrations brought her nearly to climax. “No more teasing, Roman. I want you inside me now.”

  “Bossy.”

  Her tone brooked no argument, so he reached for a condom in the drawer of his nightstand. As soon as he covered himself, Raina pushed him over onto his back and straddled him.

  Roman laughed and said, “I’m at your mercy, my lady, as he watched her with a sultry expression that could almost make her orgasm just looking at him.

  She lifted up on her knees, positioned his cock at her entrance, and lowered herself onto him, relishing the feel of his hard length filling her. At first she just rocked and wiggled a bit, but then she leaned forward, her chest meeting his, her hands on either side of him, and she rode him with a wild fury that overtook her.

  Roman’s hands gripped her butt, urging her on, meeting her thrust for thrust, his cock driving into her from below.

  The outside world went away, ceased to exist. All that mattered was Roman. Roman making love to her. And when they climaxed as one, he called her name, and Rainy’s heart took flight.

  Afterward they showered in his marble-walled walk-in shower that had spray coming at her on all sides. While using some great lemony body wash on Roman she had to taste him and lowered into a squat as she caressed his package and took him into her mouth. He was so smooth and hard at the same time and she loved how he lost control and could hardly keep himself standing. But instead of finishing, he pulled out of her and grabbed a condom from a reachable shelf while he turned Rainy to face the wall. Her hands pressing above on the marble, he held her waist and drilled into her from behind until they both screamed out their release together.

  As they lay in bed afterward, their bodies entwined, Rainy couldn’t stop wondering why he was so secretive. If there was a part of Roman she hadn’t seen yet, she wanted to know. She wanted to know all of him because she had already fallen hard for him and they could go much farther if he wouldn’t trust her with anything about himself.

  She rubbed her hand along his muscled torso, indulging herself in a small taste of his skin, and said, “Tell me more about your past. Did you know your real parents?”

  “Yes. They were Filipino. I was raised Catholic until I was ten. That’s why Sydney and I celebrate both Christmas and Chanukah.”

  “How did you save Sydney? He mentions it often. Is that why he adopted you?” When he hesitated, she kissed him and pulled back giving him a pleading look. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Roman sighed and tightened his arm around her. “I lost my parents early, then later aged out of the foster care system. I was wandering homeless in New York City, debating whether or not to try a shelter…

  Roman felt it coming in the August night air the way a canine could read tornado warnings. Years of turbulence and challenges within the system combined with his more recent lifestyle as a homeless person had equipped him with a kind of sixth sense that smelled trouble minutes before it happened.

  The street lamps near the corner of Essex and East Houston seemed muted behind a sickening urine yellow glow. No doubt the result of the lingering heat wave with its record-breaking temperatures and humidity along with the usual pollution. He stretched his legs across the length of the park bench and stared out from his lonely perch amid the trees. Across the way, a tall, skinny older man and a shorter middle-aged man in a blue shirt who seemed to be assisting him came strolling up the street. The short guy carried a small white paper bag, the kind they gave as a doggie bag at Katz’s on Ludlow where he figured they had just eaten. Roman would know, since he’d found a few of those doggie bags and sampled the contents.

  That was when the foreboding memo from his gut came to fruition.

  Out of nowhere a tall rangy homey in a pink bandana, along with his husky sidekick, moved in on the unsuspecting pair.

  Roman had learned the rules of the street a long time ago. Lesson one: survival meant having a me-first attitude. Energy should never be wasted sticking one’s neck out for somebody else—especially when you might lose your own in the process.

  But that was before he’d met her.

  “Give it up. All of it,” the tall badass said to the short man in the blue shirt.

  Roman watched and murmured to himself, “Please, mister. Be smart. Do what the guy says and go on to live another day.”

 
The man in the blue shirt went into his pockets and passed what he had to the robber.

  Good move.

  Then came the shocker.

  POP!

  The man in the blue shirt fell to the sidewalk, shot in the head at point blank range. The tall badass stood over him.

  You bastard. Stunned and infuriated, Roman rose to his feet and, while keeping his attention fixed on the killer, moved toward him.

  At the same time, the killer turned his attention on his sidekick who stood in front of the skinny older man. “Got his shit?” he barked.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what are ya waiting for? Smoke his ass!”

  His nervous young trainee hesitated, obviously unable to fulfill part B. Unable to act like his ruthless psychopath mentor.

  “Pussy.” The tall homey stepped over and leveled his gun at the older man’s head.

  It was now or never. Roman hurled himself forward and slammed into the badass with a sharp takedown. As the two hit the ground, from the corner of his eye, Roman saw the perp’s accomplice take off for parts unknown. A game changing moment for anyone outnumbered in a fight. It was now just between Roman and the gunman.

  As the old man called 911 and reported an armed robbery and shooting, Roman executed a perfect cross body arm bar on his assailant, then applied pressure to the man’s elbow joint forcing him to release his weapon. In an instant Roman reached out and swiped the gun away from them, sending it sliding across the cement.

  Amid a wail of sirens that grew louder with each passing second, the police arrived.

  “Drop the gun!” they shouted.

  “Now!

  “On your knees! Hands behind your head!”

  “Do it!”

  Roman and the gunman complied as three burly cops raced in to cuff them.

  “Hold it!” shouted the old man as he stepped between the cops and Roman. “My name is Dr. Sidney Burke.” He pointed at Roman. “This young man just saved my life.”

 

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