Cousins In Love: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (Book 3)

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "What the fuck did you say?"

  I don't say anything in response. I can't talk, or I swear I'll come before I get two words out.

  Whack!

  "Are you deaf now, too?"

  Oh. My. God.

  "No." Is all I manage to eek out.

  "What's not going to work?" he asks insistently.

  "I'm not going to settle down. In fact if you slap my ass one more time I'm going to come so hard, and scream so loud, that I may traumatize Mr. Tibbs."

  I notice that one of his hands drops low and he uses it to begin slowly stroking himself.

  "You've got a greedy pussy, Elizabeth," he says as if he's almost in pain. Still stroking himself. Harder and harder.

  Everything he says, everything he does, and every noise he makes seems so erotic to me right now, that I swear I'm about to lick one of these shower tiles. I wish he'd shut up, and take care of business.

  This is so mean.

  "What are you doing right now, Masterson?" I demand to know.

  I hear him mumble a few unintelligible words to himself.

  "What did you say?" I ask getting bolder by the minute.

  "I said that I'm stroking my cock to relieve some pressure, because I’d rather be ramming it up inside of you, Duchess."

  "So why don't you?" I reply with a bit of sass.

  "You know why dammit."

  "Don't act like you care about my safety now. You've got a one-legged woman barely holding onto a wall inside of a wet shower."

  "Shit," he grumbles as if he's just realized his error.

  He stops jerking off and drags the shower stool over.

  "Sit," he orders. "Now."

  He helps me comfortably adjust myself on the stool.

  "Spread your legs as best you can," he commands. "Lean your head against the wall."

  It's hard to take commands right now. I'm still a little wound up.

  "Wider," he orders. "Now relax, Duchess."

  Roman kneels back down in between my legs looking like a powerful, stony warrior. His beautiful hard body, adorned with swirls of ink, wet with shower water, and the shiny scar under his eye seems to glisten in this light.

  He looks up at me with lust filled, obsidian eyes. His dick hard as steel and stiffly bobbing up and down. He's trying to decide how he's going to move forward with me. I can almost see him working various scenarios through his head.

  "Just one taste."

  "Okay," I say knowing good and well it will lead to a lot more. At least I hope it does. To encourage him, I try to spread my legs a little farther.

  He's hesitant at first. He begins by softly brushing the insides of my thighs with his knuckles. They move inch by inch closer to my sex but not quite the center. I shamelessly try to roll my hips forward, so that he gets the hint, but he chooses to continue teasing and torturing me. I think it's his favorite thing to do.

  When spread apart, Roman's hands are huge. The span of them like the wings of a large eagle. To stop me from fidgeting, he holds me still at the crease of my hips with both hands. His beautiful mouth only millimeters away from my pussy.

  My eyes are closed and all I hear is water falling and heavy breathing. Then as if we're in sync, I lean my body against the wall of the shower and he moves forward.

  His mouth on my clit.

  Suctioning softly.

  Then a stronger pull.

  A release.

  Then a lick from as far back as he can reach with his tongue towards my ass and then moving forward, all the way to the tip of my clit and the top of my mound.

  Roman likes rituals. They soothe him. And so he continues with this pattern of suction, release, and licking over and over and over.

  I'm writhing.

  I hate this damn cast.

  I want to find the sharpest knife in Roman's kitchen and saw this thing the frack off. I want to wrap my legs completely around his head and ride his mouth.

  But I can't.

  And even if I could, he won't let me. He gets off on this crap. Bringing me to the edge, to the precipice, but controlling exactly when I fall over. But not this time. I've got a plan.

  I'm going to draw on all the inner strength that I know I have and control my own orgasm for once. Hell, I'm a woman. I'm Wonder Woman. I'm oh mighty Isis. I'm about to give another human being life in a couple of months. I can do this.

  I'm going to pretend to settle myself down, so that he thinks I'm not close to coming, when really I'm about to ignite. And then I'm going to scream bloody murder when there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Of course this is all good in theory, because he is way deep into his ritualistic rotation of eating me out.

  And the shit is damn good.

  I clench my eyes shut and ball my hands into fists. Rubbing his head or grabbing onto his shoulders would be a dead giveaway. It's my tell. But my orgasm is coming in like a runaway train. I try to take several normal breaths to try and bottom out the erratic shallow ones I'm taking, but it doesn't work.

  He knows.

  And he stops.

  And then he has the nerve to start asking questions.

  "Do you trust me, Duchess?"

  "Yes." I practically snap.

  "Do you love me?"

  "Yes."

  "Is this my pussy?"

  "Yes!"

  "And you promise you won't do any more stupid shit with my pussy."

  "I promise."

  "What did you say?"

  "I promise, Masterson."

  "That's my baby."

  Then he gives my pussy a hard slap and descends upon it with his mouth.

  Devouring me.

  It doesn't take long before I start screaming. My heart beating rapidly like a wild rabbit. I think I now understand why some older men die inside of a woman. Coming is some serious shit. I feel like I'm going to pass out.

  "I'm dizzy," I breathe.

  Roman stands up grinning proudly. His mouth glistening from being covered with me. He lifts me up, kicks the stool away, and returns us to our original standing position in the corner of the shower.

  Him standing behind me.

  Holding me.

  The water streaming across our bodies.

  I can feel his steel length almost angrily poking me in the back, and just when I think this shower is about to go in another Rated X direction, he does a full one-eighty and begins to pull back emotionally.

  Instead of giving me what I really want, him inside of me, he decides instead to return to his ritualistic washing of me again. This time giving a lot of attention to scrubbing and rinsing my scalp. Then repeating it all again. It's a half an hour of more torturous foreplay in my opinion, but I'm not complaining, because my eyes have been closed for the last fifteen minutes in total bliss. No one gives a hair wash like he does.

  I only know that the shower is over once I hear him shut the water off. Sheesh, his building must have one hell of a hot water heater. We were in there a long time, and the water stayed the perfect temperature the entire time.

  Roman scoops me up out of the shower and places me gingerly on the countertop. Even though he has a wide double sink bathroom counter, there's also a pretty large section of free countertop space where he keeps toiletries and freshly folded towels, and that's where he places me.

  He grabs one of the plush white towels on the counter and wraps it around his waist. He lets the rest of his body air dry while he grabs another towel and starts silently drying me off. He's starting to piss me off all over again. I'm reaching the end of my patience with him. My pregnancy hormones won't allow this to go on for much longer.

  "Roman."

  "Yes."

  "Why won't you touch me?"

  "What are you talking about. I just gave you the best orgasm of your life."

  He wraps a towel around my shoulders, which drapes over my breasts, almost as if he wants to hide them from his line of sight, while he figures out how to take the cast protector off of my leg.

  "I'm not the
Virgin Mary. So why are you handling me with kid gloves? I have had sex before you know. Plenty of it!" I try to yell at him but it's difficult, because my vocal chords are still somewhat sore and that bloody loud orgasm I just had didn't help matters.

  "I'm trying to be good, Elizabeth. I told you just a taste. Don't push me."

  "Good for what?"

  "You're hurt."

  "I'm fine. I have a broken leg."

  "It's selfish."

  "What is?"

  "Sex is a very physical act. It's selfish of me to push you when you're hurt like this. We shouldn't have even done that shit we just did in the shower."

  "You are aware that this cast has to stay on for eight weeks right?"

  I see a flicker of something pass through his eyes.

  "I'm aware."

  "So we aren't going to have sex, real sex, for eight weeks? Is that what you're saying?"

  "That's what I'm saying."

  And now I want to strangle him. I don't think I can last two months without having sex with Roman. Not if we're living in the same city. On the same planet. Breathing the same air. I might spontaneously combust. Then he'll have to explain to my parents why there are bits of me all over his penthouse walls. Ugh!

  "I'm dry now," I say seething. "Hand me my crutches please."

  "Here," he says seemingly amused by my sour mood. "Oh by the way, we're going out later."

  "Most couples stay in and have sex on New Years Eve." I deadpan.

  He laughs out loud. Usually one of my favorite sounds ever, but right now not so much.

  "No, Duchess. Most people bring in the new year by going out and partying. So go get pretty."

  I wasn't in the mood to do all that it required to get pretty, but I also didn't want to spend New Years Eve in the house either. I already missed Thanksgiving and Christmas in the hospital and rehabilitation center. I didn't want to bring in the new year reading a book on my Kindle while he was in bed dreaming about dancing M&Ms.

  "Can I invite Sloan?"

  "I just want it to be the two of us."

  Why am I not surprised that he doesn't want my best friend to tag along.

  "Fine," I agree angrily.

  I swear by this time next week, I'm going to be back in my own house and my own bed. I've got a long standing date with my battery operated boyfriend, and he doesn't care if I have a broken leg or try to draw out my orgasms. In fact, my battery operated boyfriend likes to get me there as fast as he can. Especially if he has a fresh set of double A batteries!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  ROMAN

  "I can't believe we're going to this place tonight."

  "Maybe your New Year's resolution should be to broaden your horizons," I say to Cam on my speaker phone.

  I just picked up Mr. Tibbs from the groomers, and I think he's pissed at me. He hates getting his nails trimmed, and he's just sitting in the passenger seat with what I swear is a scowl.

  "If this is what comes with broadening my horizons, then I'm all good. Thanks anyway."

  Cam is the only one I've told where I want to bring in the new year tonight and why. Well he and Jade, and that's only because I needed her help to orchestrate the whole thing. God knows it wasn't easy. I've planned blackmail schemes that were easier to pull off than this.

  "You know you're going to eventually have to go to Miami," I say to him.

  "I can handle all my shit for Kat from behind a computer in Philadelphia. What the hell do I need to go to Miami for?"

  "She needs to meet you at least. She's not going to pay someone she's never met. You should have come to the gala, then you could have knocked it out then."

  "She knows you."

  "You went to Baltimore right?"

  "This again."

  "I'm just saying."

  "So this Kat chick will funnel us the type of work we like right?"

  "Absolutely. Miami is a cesspool. They're all on drugs and fucked up. We'll have plenty of messes to clean up for her. She already has two situations for us to work."

  "Cool. This sounds like just what we need."

  "It is. She's good people."

  "Maybe I'll figure out a weekend me and Cutt can shoot down there with you."

  "Good. You know with all that's happened, I didn't get a chance to say–"

  "You better not be opening up your mouth to say thanks or some stupid shit like that."

  "Cam–"

  "We did what we always do, Rome. Shit is never fifty-fifty between us. This time me and Cutt handled things. Next time it will probably be you. We've never said thank you to each other before, and we don't need to start now."

  "I had more on the line than usual though, brother."

  "I know that and we did what had to be done. It's over. Forget about those two motherfuckers, and concentrate on what's in front of you. The good shit you have going on with Elizabeth. That's rare, man. Enjoy it."

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Sounds like you're going to ask something stupid with or without my permission."

  "I just want to know what happened in Baltimore and what Jade has to do with it."

  "That's two questions."

  "Whatever is going down, and however strong she may appear to be now, I need you to remember the land of fucked up she came from. So don't mess with her head."

  "Not your business, Rome."

  "I know it's not, but I'm asking you anyway. She's important to me. To all of us."

  "I was there too you know. I remember exactly what Jade went through, and I'm a little offended that you think I don't have better shit to do than to fuck with her head."

  "I'm not saying that you'd do it on purpose, but shit happens. Right, brother?"

  I'm referring to a trail of heartbroken women Camden has left in his wake. Where I was the type that slept with a different woman every night, Camden is a serial dater, which in my opinion is worse. At least my women knew what they were getting with me. One night only. With Camden, they saw marriage, babies, and forever after in their futures, and it wasn't always their fault.

  "I'll see you tonight, Rome."

  "Remember what I said."

  Then the asshole hung up on me.

  I was just about to call him back and tear him a new asshole when another call comes in.

  "It's me."

  The old man.

  "Hey."

  "How's our girl?"

  "She's doing good, but I'm sure you know that already. Juliette calls like every other minute for an update."

  "Well it's like you have Elizabeth on some sort of lock down over there. She's just being a good aunt and making sure her niece is begin well taken care of."

  "As if I'd do anything less. Hey you guys kept her away from me while she was in the hospital, so it's only fair I get her to myself now."

  "I guess."

  "You coming tonight?"

  "I'm coming."

  "I know you don't approve."

  "I'm coming anyway."

  There's a pregnant pause over the line. One of us has to say something.

  "Should we talk about the letter?" I ask.

  "I don't have anything to say about it."

  "You didn't want me to see it."

  "No I didn't, but as usual you've made it a point to get your way."

  "Why didn't you want me to read it?"

  "She's a shitty mother, that's why."

  "I already knew that."

  "And I didn't want you to think that the fact that I'm not your biological father changes things. It doesn't."

  "And you're sure that you aren't?"

  I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't hoping that my mother was wrong or lying. Joseph is the only father I've known.

  "Yeah, I had us tested a long time ago. Way before you came to live with me. Stole some of your hair when I dropped off some money. I've known most of your life."

  What. The. Fuck.

  "Why didn't you tell me, or better yet, why did you do it? Why raise me?"r />
  "That neighborhood would have swallowed you up whole like all the boys before you. I'm not dead inside, Roman. I couldn't leave the block and not try to save someone besides myself. So it made total sense that it would be you. Give or take a week, you actually could have been mine. It's just that some other man beat me to it."

  "Does she know that you know?"

  "No. I thought if she knew that I was aware you weren't mine that she would hold it over me. That she'd try to come back in our lives at some point and threaten to take you back or extort me for money. I wouldn't put it past her. Especially when she was acting nuts. Which I didn't know back then, but must have been the times when she was manic. But anyway, I let her believe she was pulling something over on me. It made things easier."

  "Did Juliette know?"

  "No. It's part of the reason why I'm taking her around the world. She's mad as hell at me."

  "I didn't think you ever lied to Juliette."

  "I don't usually. Just about this one thing. I had my reasons."

  "So that whole story you told me before. Not wanting me and then finally stepping up? I still don't get it."

  "That part was true. For a time, I thought I was your father and I didn't want to be anyone's father. I was too busy trying to make a name for myself. To build a life that would be so far removed from the old neighborhood that people there would barely remember my name. Your mother was beautiful and fun, but we were never supposed to form a lifetime connection. I didn't want connections to that place. You were a connection.

  "When I decided to have you tested, it was because I heard from a few people that she'd been seeing another man the same time I had been. Someone regularly. A guy she hadn't told me about for obvious reasons. He'd long disappeared from the neighborhood, so the minute I discovered you weren't mine, I thought I could help you by at least giving your mother money to raise you right. Send you to a better school. Enroll you in extracurriculars. But I learned pretty soon that your mother was incapable of holding up her end, and like I said, while it took me a minute, I finally stepped up and got you out of there. You not being mine biologically didn't factor into the decision."

  "Really, because you've been tough as shit on me, Joseph. Don't you think it might be because we're not related? Maybe you resented me a little?"