Hart Attack

by Cristin Harber

  For what? For her? For a blow job? How would Roman taste? Or feel when he came for her?

  Beth let her tongue lick his thumb as he let go. Whatever he wanted, she was ready. The memory of coming with him made her sway between his knees. The anticipation hardened her nipples and dampened her panties. All she wanted was his touch, their friction. “Roman…”

  Her head fell to the side, the visual of her luggage reminding her they had places to go. But as his palms ran to her shoulder blades then crept down her dress, skimming onto the back of her legs, she couldn’t keep from moaning quietly.

  “What are you thinking, pretty girl?”

  She locked eyes with him. “That I want to make you come.”

  “Good fuckin’ Lord.”

  She reached behind her and pulled the dress zipper down, then let her clothing fall to the floor. “They can’t leave without us,” she whispered, letting her gaze roam over him. “Are you going to let me have what I want?”

  He gave a sharp nod, his chest rising under his crisp white shirt. He drank her in, making her feel sexier than she thought possible as she stood under his fierce study in only heels and scraps of nude-colored silk.

  “Beth, baby. Do you have any idea what a body you have?”

  No, she didn’t. Far from perfect, she was a little small where she wanted more, a little rounded where she wanted less. But as he licked his lips, it didn’t matter.

  His fingers skimmed over her stomach, leaving a trail of goose bumps. She shivered under his deliberate, delicious, slow caress. Roman was calculating, and the juncture between her thighs pulsed, wanting his attention.

  “Roman,” she murmured. “You’re making it impossible to stand.”

  His chuckle was subtle. It consumed her senses, making her nipples pebble harder. She wanted his tongue, his teeth, for them to rasp against her sensitive spots. But truth was, she’d moan for him if he so much as blew her a kiss.

  He pulled the silk thong to the side, letting his fingers slip along her. “Can’t have that.”

  Beth’s eyes rolled shut, and her mind went blank. “That’s…”

  “Such a good girl.” He stroked her, parting her folds and sliding one thick finger inside her.

  Her hips rocked as she stood before him, wanting the heel of his palm to press against her clit. Beth couldn’t think as one finger became two.

  “Wet for me.”

  She nodded, her lips burning for their kiss. She inched closer, stepped wider, and he continued his onslaught, one hand squeezing her ass cheek until it hurt, the other rhythmically working her.

  “Pretty girl.”

  “God…” Her body basked in the climb. “Roman.”

  “Only me,” he growled. “Come for me.”

  Unable to hold herself up, she grasped his shoulders.

  “That’s right, baby. Hold on.”

  It was all she could do. Beth bit his shirt as he finger fucked her harder. Her back arched, his palm and fingers working her to the brink.

  “God. Roman.” She clung to him, embracing the violent ripple of her climax.

  He pumped, she flexed, crying his name again. Beth gasped to fill her lungs but couldn’t. She fell into his arms, and he wrapped her to him hard with her legs straddling his thighs.

  “You sound”—he nipped at her ear—“fuckin’ beautiful.”

  She summoned enough strength to push up and touch her lips to his. His hand that had made her come stroked her cheek, cupping her chin and outlining her lips with his fingers. They were damp with her arousal, the scent of sex between both of their lips. They didn’t kiss. Just existed.

  “Maybe you do taste like sugar.” Then he kissed her until she melted against him.

  Roman stood, holding her to him. He kicked off his shoes and walked down the hall. He stopped short of her bedroom, slamming her back against the wall. She gasped and moaned and reveled in his force.

  He pulled back, dark-brown eyes studying her. “Tell me right now this has nothing to do with that box.”

  She shook her head, her curly hair now loose and flying around her face. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing to do with memories and pictures?”

  “No,” she whispered, but it sounded like she begged. “Please, Roman. Don’t stop.”

  Roman flexed his hips and rubbed the hard length of his erection between her legs, reigniting rapid-fire sensations. “Beth, give me a promise.”

  “I promise. I swear. Nothing.” She gasped again as the friction and strength increased. “Just you and me.”

  “Good.” The word came out in a growl.

  Still pressing her hard against the perfect walls in her perfect condo, he kissed and bit and made her mouth beg for more. God, she hoped they scuffed the wall. It would be a memory that she could call up when she was all alone.

  He carried her into her room and tossed her on the perfectly made bed. White down comforter and white silk sheets. All expensively flawless and everything she hated. She’d never realized how they drove her crazy until Roman had thrown her in the middle of the mattress, messing up their impeccable design and her well-orchestrated, well-designed life. The sheets scrunched and bunched when he followed her onto the bed.

  Nothing about him was gentle, and she couldn’t wait for him to fuck her until she came on his cock, destroying the walls that she’d built to protect an old memory. She prayed that this time would be worth the hurt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Roman ached, wanting to drive balls-deep inside her. He hurt with needing release. How had he not taken her against the wall? On her couch? On the goddamn floor? It was the wild hair and vivid eyes. He wanted to see them in a sea of white, softness surrounding her while he made her scream.

  Her smile waned. “What’d I do?”

  “When?” He tilted his head.

  “Just now.”

  “No idea what you’re talking about, babe.” Because all she’d done was lie there, looking like everything he’d ever want to pound until they passed out.

  “You’ve got this angry, intense look going on.” Her cheeks took on a pink tint. “And I thought…”

  Not sure about angry, but intense. Maybe. His chest felt filled to capacity. His mind raced as he craved more of everything—her skin, her kiss, her taste, the wetness between her legs, and the sighs and gasps that were hard earned.

  Temptation existed, and it was sprawled in heels and a thong in front of him. His dick had never been so hard, his expectations never so high.

  He focused on her bra. If he could make a list of mission objectives, he’d be golden. Bra, thong, shoes. Nah, keep the shoes on. Easy enough plan. First objective, the bra was to be a goner.

  With Beth beneath him, he bent over her and toyed with her dark, curly hair. Such a vivid contrast to her pretentious bed. Her breathing was shallow, audible… and mirrored his. Wasn’t that hell of a revelation?

  Her hands cupped him through his pants, and he shook his head. “Don’t distract me. Once you start, I may not let you stop.”

  Roman removed her bra. The tight tips of her nipples were cherry-colored perfection. They matched the color of her lips.

  On display for him, she ran her hands up his arms. “Intense works on you.”

  He laughed, getting closer and letting his mouth and tongue trail down her neck. “Everything works on you.”

  Perfect round breasts filled his hands. Never before had he been a tits guy, but never before had he been subject to Beth’s.

  “I want you naked, Roman,” she whispered. “I want all of you.”

  He wasn’t sure why that sounded as though it took courage to say, but bravery danced on her face. He’d comply. Hell, he’d do anything she said.

  “Damn, woman…” He hooked her wayward thong, sliding it off and leaving her naked. “You are perfect.” Her eyes shut, but he wanted them on him. “Beth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you dare use me in place of someone who’s not here anymore.” />
  “What!” Her eyelids flipped open as she scooted away. “Don’t be a prick. You’re gonna ruin everything.”

  Maybe he was. But he needed to know it was him. No ghosts from the past. “You know what kind of man I am.”

  “Tell me.”

  He moved toward her. “The selfish kind, but you know that.”

  She parted her lips.

  “The demanding kind and you love that.” He leaned over her, caging her with his arms. “The kind of man that makes your pussy wet.”

  “I—”

  “That makes you come.” He gave her his weight, lying between her bare legs. “Hard. And long.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re using what I told you against me.”

  “Wrong, babe.” He shook his head. “I’m making sure you know who you’re in bed with.”

  “Of course I know. You ass.”

  “Say it.”

  “What…?” Her little nose wrinkled, and he wished her freckles weren’t hidden.

  “Say it, Beth.”

  “Don’t ruin a good thing, Roman.”

  Smart little mouth he’d put to work soon enough. “Keep those gorgeous eyes open.”

  “They were.” The rise and fall of her breasts came faster.

  “Nope. They’re one of my favorite things about you. I would’ve known if I’d seen green fire lighting in your eyes.”

  Her smile faltered.

  “You want to keep going, pretty girl?”

  She looked ready to protest because she was Beth and because she couldn’t help but fight against them, even when he knew if his hand went between her legs there would be no argument about what she wanted.

  “Tell me. I want to hear it.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “With me? Not some memory.”

  She inched back again. “Roman, don’t say—”

  “I want all of you. Not some perfect tits and a sweet cunt looking for a great ride.”

  “Roman!” She tossed her head to the side.

  “I want Beth. Everything that’s there to give.”

  She glared then stole her eyes from him.

  He leaned away and started on the buttons of his shirt, slowly working his way down. “And I like that you know what you want.”

  She watched him sideways in silence.

  “But you have to give it to me.” He shrugged out of his button down and ripped his undershirt over his head. He took her hands, pressing them to his stomach. Her fingers flexed. “That’s my girl.”

  Still, she didn’t speak. He rubbed her palms up the hard ridges of his stomach, leaning over to feel her palms savor his pectorals. “I want you too damn much to not get all of you. Face up, eyes on me.”

  She did.

  Their eyes locked.

  Then she nodded. “I’m with you, Roman. Only you. Eyes open. Promise.”

  Time ticked by slowly. Her eyes followed his hands as he rested them on his belt and unbuckled, dropping his pants. He moved off the bed, tossing away the last of his clothes, and palmed his throbbing erection.

  Her eyes took him in, mouth agape. “You are… spectacular.”

  For the first time, maybe ever, he blushed. His neck and cheeks warmed. A half-grin tugged on his lips, her reaction made him harder than he could imagine. Slowly, he worked his length. “Think we’re finally on the same page.”

  “What page is that?”

  His thumb rounded the crown, wishing it was her tongue. “Dying for you, baby.”

  Beth nodded.

  If he didn’t feel her tight sweetness hug him soon, he’d be useless. “Lie back down.” He pulled a condom out of his wallet and tore it open with his teeth as she obeyed. “Closer.”

  She scooted toward the edge of the bed, still in her fuck-me heels. “Cocky and bossy.” But she smiled and bit her lip. “My eyes are open… because I need it to be you. I need… you.”

  However she’d said those words, the sound had changed his plan. Instead of sinking deep into her, he needed just a sweet kiss first. Roman pulled her to the edge and bent her legs, placing her heels on the mattress and putting her smooth pussy on display. His hands slid from her ankles to her knees then descended slowly down her thighs. Standing over her, he gripped her hips and dropped to his knees. His head dipped, enjoying how her thighs hugged him tightly, then he kissed her, long and wet.

  “Roman.” She jerked as his tongue swirled then gasped when his fingers took hold of her again.

  Just a little taste. That was all. He looked up when she peered down. Her face was the stuff angels were made of, and he couldn’t get to her fast enough. His body covered her, and when their lips touched, she sighed.

  “I want all new memories, Roman, and I need to see your face.”

  His cock nestled between her legs, and she moved her hips despite his weight pinning her down.

  “We can do new memories.” His forehead touched hers, his shaft inching into her tight, hugging entrance.

  She locked her arms around him and moaned until her vocal vibrations struck his soul.

  “Yes,” she whispered, kissing him softly.

  He mimicked the kiss with his hips, rocking into her gently. However hot they’d started in the living room, things had changed. This was deep.

  “God…” Again, she whispered against his lips, “You…”

  They were good together, nothing like the fast and hard orgasms he knew. He could feel her tighten as she got closer. Her gasps needed more of him, and now he rode her slowly until she fell.

  Beth’s head dropped back. She arched and pulsed, and he’d never been so intent to watch and feel someone come. The show was all-consuming, and he came, gasping for her until they were a tangled mess.

  His heart hammered. A light sheen of sweat covered his body. The exertion had been just as mental as it’d been physical, and he didn’t know what to do other than hold her.

  Minutes ticked by, and neither of them moved. Words wouldn’t come to him, and she wasn’t volunteering any conversation. The still silence made a decision for them. They weren’t leaving any time soon. He’d keep her pinned to avoid the rest of the day. Abu Dhabi, Gregori Naydenov, Titan, and the CIA—they could all wait.

  Carefully, he rolled them under the covers after he had removed the condom and trashed it.

  Roman kissed her cheek. “They can’t leave without you, so we stay here until we’re ready.” And now that he’d all but made love to the woman, he’d never be ready. “Just a little longer.”

  She didn’t answer.

  Pulling back, he looked down into her face. Her closed eyes and even breathing nearly killed him. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep in the time it’d taken for him to question his what-the-hell moment. Instead of running from her bed or fighting the apprehensions in his head, he leaned back and wondered if this was what it was like to let another person in again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Beth curled around Logan in that happy half-awake, half-asleep fog that made any morning when he was home better than perfect. He was home from war. He was safe. In their bed, relaxed and holding her. None of the demons that haunted him from overseas had had time to sink their nasty claws into him yet.

  Morning, with that soft sunlight flooding through their bedroom, was her favorite time of day. She took a deep breath, but the air didn’t smell like him. Beth closed her eyes, still loving the smell and trying to figure out what was so deliciously unfamiliar.

  Logan sighed, shifting in the dark sheets and rumpled covers, and held her close. His lips brushed her temple, his voice murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He sat up as she closed her eyes tighter, trying not to lose those precious minutes before the day started.

  “Beth?”

  That wasn’t Logan’s voice.

  She couldn’t open her eyes. But when she did, there was a tattooed bicep in her face. The words “TRAITOROUS BITCH” scrawled across tight muscle. Her stomach shifted and sank. Unnamable dread began to choke her. S
he pushed away from the words, the man, and stole a glance at his face.

  Roman.

  “Beth!” Roman had both his hands on her shoulders. “Wake up!”

  Kicking and screaming to get away, she couldn’t escape. Tears ran down her face as her legs tangled in the sheets.

  “Beth!” He grabbed her, turning her, one hand on her chin, the other hand holding her place.

  Her eyes focused. Roman. Roman was in front of her, holding her. Her gaze dropped to the tattoo from her dream. Her stomach turned. “I’m going to be sick.”

  Naked and tripping over the covers, she bolted for her bathroom. She tried to slam the door behind her, but her train of sheets wouldn’t allow it. Beth dropped to her knees, hugged the bowl, and hated herself in a way that she couldn’t explain.

  Guilt made her nauseated. She wanted to heave, wanted anything to make this awful feeling go away. Nothing changed. Begging for relief to a God that sometimes abandoned her did little good, and she fell to the floor, taking the sheet and curling into it. On the white marble, curled in a silk sheet, she bawled at the overwhelming sense of loss and guilt.

  A quiet knock sounded far, far away. She buried her face in her arms, pulling into a fetal position as she hiccup-cried, knotting her hands in her hair. Strong hands wrapped around her, pulling her from the hazy, depressing realization that Logan had left her on purpose.

  Roman lifted her up and, holding her like a baby, carried her to the bed. He sat down next to her, not asking her to uncover her face.

  She lost the concept of time. Even wrapped in the sheets, she could feel how strong and warm he was, could feel inside her how they’d just had sex and could smell his familiar scent marking her body. If her world hadn’t been guilt drenched, she would’ve sighed, relaxing into the understanding that he held her without question. But it was.

  Beth tried to swallow. Her throat was desert dry after the ugly cry on her bathroom floor. Still, Roman held her. Time passed. Minutes, hours, she had no idea.

  Finally, it felt safe to unbury her head. “I’m sorry for that.”

  Roman studied her, pushing away a curl that was stuck to her tear-soaked cheek. “Nightmare?”