by Linda Verji
“Oomph!” he groaned as his back hit the bed with a small bounce and thud. April’s body fell over his. She let out a low whimper when her forehead knocked into his shoulder.
Concern streaking through him, he wrapped both his arms around her upper body and bent his head to look at her. “You okay.”
“Mm.” Her pained moan echoed against his chest.
“Let me see.” He ran his hands to the back of her head and into her braided hair then tilted her face so she was looking at him. “You hurt?”
“It’s just a…” She paused when her eyes met his. In an instant, the pain glazing her eyes disappeared and it was replaced by an indefinable emotion. “… Just a… bump.”
When her eyes lowered to his lips, her breath perceptibly caught in her throat and her tongue peaked out between her luscious lips.
This time the emotion swimming in her eyes was obvious.
Desire.
Time stretched, stopped. Everything around them disappeared. All Roman could see, hear or feel was April. His eyes lowered to her lips, followed the slow stroke of her tongue against her lush bottom lip. He heard how her breath sped up. He felt every inch of her curves as she lay plastered over him; her lush breasts against the hard planes of his chest, her soft belly against his own, her taut thighs on the outside of his, and that sweet, secret part of her cradled against his groin.
His cock immediately jolted as he recalled vividly how it’d felt to have less clothes between them, how it’d felt to be inside her. His own breath shortening, he tightened his arms around her as his gaze swept back up to meet hers. Her beautiful eyes, almost black with desire, were locked on his lips. Like she wanted him to kiss her.
So he did.
He lifted his head from the bed and touched his lips to hers. It was just a small peck to let her know that he was willing to do whatever she wanted, but it sent immediate fire blazing through his whole body. His senses begged for more, for a longer kiss, for him to force her into something deeper… but all he did was pull back to watch April.
This time he wanted her to be the one to lead them in. And if she didn’t want to, then he was giving her the opportunity to back away while they were still sane.
She didn’t back away. Instead, her eyes remained locked on his. The air between them became so charged, he could’ve sworn that it crackled with sexual electricity. He could feel the blood beating under his skin, at his temples, as he watched her and waited for her to make the next move.
His heart almost stopped when she lowered her face to his. When her lips settled, warm and soft, on his, his pulse slowed to shocked crawl. Gently, timidly, she nibbled at his lips in exploration. When her tongue flicked against the seam of his lips, he parted his lips for her and let her in.
Once she was inside, the game was over.
His lids fell as he tightened his hold on her upper body and took over the kiss. His tongue darted out to meet hers, to mate with hers. He caressed her lips with his, slowed the dance of his tongue against hers until each kiss was drenched in languor and unhurried appreciation. Pleasure, pure and wild, raced through him. It eclipsed his senses until all he could think of was tasting more of her.
She tasted amazing.
Like warm nectar, peaches and honey.
Like summer and goodness.
Fresh, ripe and ready to be plucked.
And she fit against him so well. Her long limbs were the perfect match to his own, her breasts just as soft and lush as he liked them. Though his hands rested on her spine, he had the powerful urge to lower them to her ass so he could squeeze the flesh that he knew from experience was pert and fit in his hands just right. But he resisted it.
As much as he ached to make love to April, he wanted to do it the right way this time. This time he was playing the long game. When they made love again, he wanted it to be because it was what they both wanted, and not because lust was at the driver’s seat. He wanted the aftermath to be smiles, cuddling and tenderness – not regrets and quick scrambles out of the room. He wanted to make sure that once she was in his bed, she stayed there. Forever.
Summoning every inch of self-control he possessed, he reined himself back in. With soft, soothing kisses, he eased her out of the kiss until her head lay against his shoulders and her body lay limp over his. He waited until the desire thundering through his veins subsided to a safe level before finally speaking. “April?”
She didn’t answer but he felt her stiffen against him.
“April?” he tried again. This time he lifted his upper body, carrying her with him until he was seated and she was on his lap. She immediately buried her face in the crook of his neck. When he saw that the tips of her ears were red, he realized that she was embarrassed. Smiling, he pressed his lips against her forehead tenderly before tipping her chin up so she was looking at him. “Hey.”
She immediately lowered her eyes to a spot on his throat and her finger flew to her mouth. If he wasn’t watching her so closely, he probably would’ve missed her low, “Sorry.”
He frowned. “What are you sorry about?”
“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me….I-”
He pulled her hand away from her mouth and shut her up with a swift kiss. She had nothing to be sorry about. With his lips, he erased her apology and dragged her out of embarrassment and back into desire. By the time he ended the kiss, she was panting and clinging to his t-shirt.
After one last touch of his lips to hers, he asked, “I have tickets to a stand-up comedy show on Sunday. Would you like to go with me?”
His abrupt change of subject caught her by surprise and her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’d like to take you out on a date on Sunday,” he clarified. “Interested?”
Despite his calm tone and nonchalant expression, he was a ball of nerves on the inside. What if she refused? What if she decided that she wasn’t ready for anything more than friendship? What if he’d asked too soon and he scared her away? What if-April nodded.
For a moment, he thought he’d imagined the nod and he asked, “Yes?”
She bit her bottom lip then nodded again.
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “That’s not enough. I need to hear the word, sweetheart.”
She swallowed then studied him, stretching out the moment until he was sure that his nerves would snap if she didn’t say something. “Yes.”
It was only one word, and it was said so softly he had to strain to hear it, but it sent thrill like Roman had never felt before racing through his blood. She’d said yes.
CHAPTER 24
“What about this?” April mumbled to herself as she twirled in front of the mirror. A moment later, she shook her head. The black t-shirt and skinny-jeans combo was okay for a casual date, but it wasn’t sexy enough. In quick movements, she chucked the t-shirt over her head and pushed the jeans down her legs. She grabbed a fire-engine red dress from her closet and put it on. Then back to the mirror.
“Hmm.” She studied herself. The dress was certainly sexy. Its plunging neckline dipped dangerously between her breasts to stop just a few inches from her navel. Its thigh-length skirt was long enough to cover her butt but short enough to flaunt her legs. Yup, this was the kind of dress that drove men mad. Which was why it wouldn’t do.
With a sniff, she tossed the dress over her head and to the floor. She wanted something that said, ‘sexy and available to be more than just friends’, but not too sexy that Roman would think she was trying too hard.
Although she’d tried to act cool the whole week, the truth was that she was bursting with both excitement and nervousness. How many times had she dreamt of going on a date with Roman? Many times. How many times had she stood in front of a mirror and tried on dresses just in case he ever asked her out? So many times.
But this wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a dry-run. It was the real deal.
She was going out with Roman Teller.
Today. Finally.
With a smile, she d
anced her way back to the closet and pulled out a navy dress with cupped sleeves.
“Yup.” She nodded as she twirled in front of the mirror. The knee-length, sheathe dress was long enough to fake being modest but snug enough to flaunt the curves beneath it. Once she threw in a push-up bra to boost her non-existent breasts and cut-out heels to show-off her pedicure, Roman would be lucky if he didn’t end up drooling all over himself.
The staff of Tellers were so used to her dressing up that no one batted an eye when she showed up for work wearing the outfit. Furthermore, they were too distracted with the news that Oscar was gay to pay any attention to April or her clothes. While she changed into her uniform, Vina gave her the juice. Apparently, someone had seen their sous-chef at a gay bar, kissing another man. Frankly, April didn’t care that Oscar was gay but she found it amusing that after all his efforts to dig out people’s skeletons, it turned out that he had a few very colorful ones hidden in his own closet.
Everyone was so busy gossiping over the Oscar soap opera, that no one noticed how much of a hurry April was in to get out of Tellers after lunch service. Since today was Roman’s day off, they’d agreed to meet at the theater at four-thirty p.m.. It was ten-to-four right now and if she didn’t hurry, she’d end up late.
“Keep hurrying like that and he’ll think that you’re desperate to date him,” Vina teased as they changed in the ladies’ changing rooms.
“But I am desperate,” April said. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for him to ask me out?”
“I know. I know.” Vina laughed. “But there’s no need for him to know how excited you are. Be late. Show him that you’re the one running the show and you’ll come to him when you want to.”
That sounded sensible. April narrowed her eyes. “How late?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?” April couldn’t hide the horrified note in her voice. She was supposed to wait that long to see Roman? Though she’d been aching the whole day just to see his face or at least talk to him, she’d held herself back. Barely. Now she was supposed to waste another twenty minutes trying to prove that she had the dominant hand in their relationship? What kind of crap was this?
Vina chuckled. “Fine. Fifteen minutes.”
“Five minutes,” April pleaded.
“Ten.”
“Seven,” April countered.
“You’re hopeless.” Vina clucked disapprovingly. “I don’t even know why I bother giving you advice. Go.”
With a laugh, April sashayed out of the changing room. She probably should’ve taken Vina’s advice to keep Roman waiting but she was just so tired of the games. She and Roman had been skirting around the edges of a real relationship for so long that she was impatient to get to it, to see if there was something real between them or if it was just her imagination.
At precisely four-thirty, she arrived at the theater. Many ticket-holders had already arrived and were filing into the theater. She was just about to call Roman and let him know that she was here when she saw him. He was leaning against one of the walls, his gaze sweeping over everyone else as if looking for her. When his eyes finally landed on her, his face lit up in a smile. He straightened from the wall and strode to meet her. Immediately, April’s heart started a low thrum and her mouth crooked in an answering smile. Without conscious thought, she moved forward and straight into his arms.
“Hey?” he greeted as his arm closed around her.
“Hey,” she returned as she lifted her face up to his. It was the most natural thing; how their lips met, how they melted against each other. It felt right, like this is where she was supposed to be, in his arms and with him.
She drew back to look up at him. “Am I late or are you early?”
“I’m early.” His eyes softened as his lips crooked in a small smile. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
So she wasn’t the only one? Her heart soared at his confession and a warm feeling started low in her belly.
Roman swooped down for another short kiss before he stepped away from her. His gaze lowered to the rest of her. “You look nice.”
They were just three words, an effusive compliment at best, and yet they turned her body liquid, melted her. His lingering once-over left her feeling extremely female, breathless and like she was the most beautiful woman in this building.
Smiling, she gave him a quick up and down, taking in his outfit; a black sports jacket that lovingly smoothed over his broad shoulders, a grey t-shirt that lingered over his washboard abs and black jeans that emphasized his trunk-like thighs. Heat pooled in the pit of her belly in appreciation. She breathed, “So do you.”
He grinned. “Ready for the show.”
“Mm hmm.” She nodded. She was readier than she’d ever been.
The show turned out to be just as enjoyable as she’d expected it to be. Comedian after comedian filed onto the stage to entertain the eager crowd with their hilarious and often risqué jokes. For the most part April listened to them, but it was hard to concentrate when Roman was so deliciously close.
His spicy cologne teased her senses every time he leaned closer to tell her something, his deep voice smoothed over every awakened nerve in her body and lit her up. When he interlaced his fingers with hers, her pulse practically stopped as everything in her focused at that point where their bodies joined. She snatched a glance at him and found him looking at her keenly, intently, like he was fully aware of the heated sensations he was evoking in her and planned to keep doing it.
His eyes hooded, he leaned closer. Close enough that she could feel his warm breath whisper against her nose. Close enough that all she had to do was move an inch or two and they’d be kissing. She moved towards him, even puckered her lips in readiness…
Thundering applause yanked her unceremoniously from the spell Roman had cast. Her eyes flew to the stage where the latest comedian was making his exit to the crowd’s enthusiastic clapping. When she turned back to Roman, he was still looking at her, but his gaze was much clearer. He leaned forward to touch his lips to her cheek before turning back to the show.
Disappointed yet oddly thrilled, April sat back in her seat.
“Are you sure we should be eating here?” she asked hours later as they sat at their table. Roman had gone all out on this date; he’d reserved a table at the number one sea-food spot in Santa Barbara.
The restaurant reeked of money and class. The décor was a mix of glittering gold, dark wood furniture and cream-colored fabrics. Servers in suits weaved their way through tables occupied by couples dressed to the nines, carrying artfully arranged platters of food. The place even had a live orchestra band playing on stage instead of just having music playing from speakers above.
April leaned toward Roman to whisper. “They don’t even have prices on the menu. You know what that means, right?”
Roman’s lips kicked up in a smile as he set his own menu on the table. “I know.”
His blasé expression said he didn’t know, so she explained, “It means that their food will be expensive as hell.”
“I can afford it.”
“I know you can afford but I also know how you’re…” She hesitated because she didn’t know how to describe him without offending him. “Because you’re… you know…”
He arched his eyebrows. “Cheap?”
“No, no, no,” she rushed to protest. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s okay. You can say it.” His lips twisted in a self-depreciative smile. “It’s not like I haven’t heard it before. And you’ve said it a couple of times too.”
Instant remorse raced through her. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way – I was just joking.”
“Were you?”
“I was.” She nodded. “You’re not cheap – you’re just money conscious. You know… frugal.”
He stared at her. “There’s a difference?”
“Of course, there is,” she said. But before she could explain further, a server stopped by to take their or
der.
As soon as the server left, Roman prodded, “What’s the difference?”
“Okay, so both frugal and cheap people like to save money,” she explained, “but someone frugal - someone like you - won’t save money at the expense of quality or health.”
“I won’t?”
“Mm.” She nodded. “Remember that time when I needed running shoes? You wouldn’t let me buy second-hand ones because you thought they’d ruin my feet and that they wouldn’t last long. But when we went to the store, you wouldn’t let me buy the ones I wanted either because you checked online and they were cheaper there. You ended up saving me a whole thirty dollars…”
“…which you ended up spending on a new top,” he completed with a laugh.
“I know. I’m terrible.” She gave a self-derisive chuckle. “I wish I was more like you. My bank account would certainly thank me for it.”
“I wish I was a little more like you,” Roman said. “How do you do that?”
“How do I do what?”
“Keep yourself from counting your pennies all the time,” he explained. “You and I have kind of similar backgrounds. You know – folks who weren’t that well off and scrimped to raise us. So technically we should have the same spending behavior – but we don’t.”
“I don’t know.” April shrugged. “My dad is almost as frugal as you so I guess I took after my mom. In her book, money is supposed make your life easier, nothing more. It’s not the end all be all of everything, and it’s certainly not precious. She always said that she was okay being poor or rich just as long as she had us in her life.”
April paused then continued, “Plus, she was more interested in giving us street smarts so that if we ever ended up broke, we’d still be okay. I know I waste a lot of money on expensive bags and shoes… but if worse came to worse, I’d sell them like this.” She snapped her fingers. “I don’t hold on to stuff or money – just people.”