Teaching Roman

by Geneva Lee

  “Bullshit.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said without missing a beat. “I know you’re upset about Trevor and what happened, but giving yourself liver damage and nearly getting arrested”—

  “I almost got arrested?” she interrupted.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re lucky Roman saved the day.”

  Cassie held up a hand for me to pause. “Professor Markson was there?”

  It was too late to backpedal, but it was probably better that she knew he was there. Admitting it meant there was less chance that she’d find out the whole story. I relayed last night’s events to her in full, save for Roman and I’s extra-sexticular activities, which I conveniently forgot to mention. Cassie was already obsessing over me hooking up with him. I didn’t need to fuel her fire.

  “Shit. I’m so, so sorry, Jess. I’m being a crazy bitch about my break-up while you’re barely batting an eyelash about Brett.” She flopped down, throwing an arm over her eyes in defeat.

  “I wasn’t in love with Brett,” I confessed. I had suspected it when his proposal sent me running for the hills, but I was certain about it after last night. Either Roman Markson was the rebound of the century or I wasn’t all that broken up about my ex-boyfriend.

  “Why the hell did you waste so much time with him?”

  “Brett was nice,” I said.

  “Was he good in bed?” Cassie asked.

  I measured my response. “He was adequate.”

  “You wasted a year dating someone who was nice—translation: boring—and adequate in bed—translation: he had a 50% success rate.”

  “Success rate?” I had a feeling I didn’t want to know, but I asked anyway.

  “At making you see heaven,” she said. “I bet you are one helluva faker.”

  I hardly registered her last comment, because the simple thought of sex had sent me back to last night. Cassie was right. If I’d known a man could make me feel like that in bed, things never would have gone on so long with Brett. I grabbed for my bottle of water, suddenly feeling overly hot, and took a deep swig.

  “So did you nail Roman last night?” Cassie asked.

  I choked. Water was becoming dangerous in all its forms. Once I recovered, I glared at her and picked my book back up. Cassie laughed at me as she stood up, brushing sand from her bare legs.

  “I’m going in for a swim. Want to come?”

  “Terrified of the ocean,” I reminded her.

  “That water—” she pointed to the shore—”is as warm and calm as bathwater. At least wade in with me.”

  I shook my head, and Cassie threw her hands in the air. I watched as she jogged across the scorching sand and dived into the water like she was on Baywatch, much to the delight of several men on the beach.

  After I dragged Cassie out of the water, we hit a local market to stock up on supplies. She might think all we needed was wine, but I’d realized last night how important food was. I’d left my phone at the hotel, not certain I wanted to be reachable. My night with Roman had been spectacular, and we’d agreed to enjoy ourselves this week, but reason and common sense had shown up with dawn’s early light. A fling with a teacher was a bad idea.

  “I cannot believe I got my period. Life is unfair.” Cassie continued to search the shelves for tampons, which were the only item she hadn’t packed apparently. “I’m in paradise, completely single, and out of commission.”

  Personally, I thought that might be a good thing. It felt crappy to even think it, considering I was already on the rebound, so I kept the thought to myself. I snatched a single blue box from the lowest shelf and held it up triumphantly.

  “Hola.” The familiar sound of Roman’s voice raked over my skin, and I bit my lip. Then I realized I had a box of tampons in my hands. Shoving it at Cassie, I spun around and came face to face with Roman and his grandmother. Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she appraised me in a knowing way. Apparently she hadn’t missed his absence last night.

  “It’s nice to see you again. I mean, since the airport.” I tripped over my tongue, nearly giving myself away. The good news that Cassie would assume that I was embarrassed for crushing on Roman. I’d tell her about what had happened between us someday, but not while she was nursing her own heartbreak. “We were getting food.”

  “Amongst other things,” Cassie said dryly. She made no effort to hide the box of feminine products, and she was probably wondering why I was acting like such a freak about them. Neither of us were the type to act weird over bodily functions. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t want Roman to think I was closed for business.

  I guess I did want to see him again.

  “Do you cook?” Aba asked.

  Cassie let out an ear-splitting laugh before shaking her head. “Oh hell no. But it doesn’t matter I’m on the all-alcohol diet.”

  “A few things,” I blurted out before adding, “but not well.”

  My best friend shot me an incredulous look. Clearly, she thought I’d lost it. Before she could point this out, Aba stepped in. “If you need to eat, you come to my house.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to cook for us,” I said.

  She laughed in a near perfect imitation of Cassie before winking at me. “He will cook for you. It’s his job.”

  That proved that she definitely knew that Roman and I had been playing house last night. Next to me Cassie seemed confused, but she didn’t ask for an explanation. “I’m going to pay for these as soon as I find the limes.”

  “I will show you.” Aba took her arm and began to lead her away. “Roman will help Jessica find what she is looking for.”

  “She caught me sneaking in,” he said sheepishly once they were out of earshot. “I didn’t tell her where I was, but…”

  “I think she figured it out. Will she tell Cassie?” I noticed how his forehead wrinkled in what was either concern or indignation and hurried to explain. “With her break-up, I thought maybe she wouldn’t want to hear about us.”

  His lips twitched as if the idea of us was amusing. “Aba respects my privacy, even if she can’t help gloating. She told me I should marry you after she met you.”

  “Marry?” I repeated with a gulp. There was that word again. I couldn’t even avoid it while having a fling.

  “Don’t worry I’m not going to drag you to the chapel, but I would like to see you tonight.” A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead, and I resisted the urge to brush it back. Every molecule of my being wanted to touch him. Agreeing to see him was a surefire way to ensure that I did.

  “Roman, I…”

  “Can I see you tonight?” Roman’s voice was low. A shiver ran up my spine at the urgency in his voice.

  I knew I should say no.

  I said yes instead.

  Chapter Twelve

  Orange and rose hues streaked across the sky as I searched for an excuse to leave the villa. The plan was to meet Roman down the beach, but I hadn’t been able to figure out how to ditch Cassie. Plus, it felt wrong leaving her behind so I could get some action. I was about to give up when she jumped off the couch.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced. “I smell like sand and tequila.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” I tried to keep my tone even, but it pitched up on the last word.

  Cassie stared at me for a minute before shaking her head. For a second I thought she’d seen through my casual act. But if she did, she was letting it slide. For now. “After that shower, I’m going to crawl into bed and watch sad movies and cry until my liver is detoxed. Want to join me?”

  “While that sounds fun,” I said trying to keep a sympathetic look on my face while my insides were doing a happy dance, “I want to read.”

  “Will you stop with the studying already?” She heaved a sigh that sounded a lot like exasperation. If only she knew the truth.

  “Not what you think.” I waved a novel as my white flag. I was surrendering to the siren call of Mexico. She just didn’t need to know all the details. �
�I’m going to read for fun.”

  Her eyes narrowed, trying to zoom in on the title, but I tossed it into the chair before she could. The novel was a decoy book I’d been using for years. Whenever my friends called me out for studying too much, I held it up and begged out of spontaneous girls’ nights to read a book “for fun.”

  “Weren’t you reading that a few weeks ago?” Cassie asked.

  Busted.

  I shook my head. “Never finished it, so vacation is the perfect time. I’m dying to find out what happens. “

  Actually, I was dying to get my hands on Roman. Part of me wondered if I should just come clean. Rip off the proverbial bandaid and tell her what was happening. The rest of me was certain that I couldn’t risk her finding out about us though. First of all, she’d never let it go, but more importantly, she’d also asked me here for moral support as she healed from a break-up. I didn’t need to rub her nose in any fling—Cassie-approved or not. Then there was the less than logical reason—the one I didn’t want to fess up to even to my conscience. It was a little more fun keeping it a secret. I shoved the shameful thought down, but it didn’t make it less true. Sneaking around with Roman was a poor life decision—and after last night, I realized I hadn’t made enough of those in my lifetime. I wanted to make another bad choice. Maybe a couple if he wasn’t too tired.

  “If you finish, I’ll be in bed.” She dropped her voice and fluttered her eyes. “You can always join me.”

  I pushed her toward her room. Pulling out my best businesslike tone, I ordered her off. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go grab a shower. You’ll feel better.”

  “I know you always do after a shower.” Cassie stuck her tongue out at me before she disappeared into her bedroom. I was never going to live that particularly embarrassing moment down. Thank god best friend code dictated no nude photography or she’d have Instagrammed it.

  I was out the door before the water turned on.

  The warm air wrapped around me like a blanket, even the breeze was muggy. I loved it. Maybe I could get used to life like this. Sunsets on the beach and warm sand under my feet. Still, I kept my distance from the waves lapping on the shoreline. It would be a little pathetic to live on the ocean and be afraid of water. I was feeling a little reckless, but not stupid. Technically, I could swim. I’d had lessons. I just really, really didn’t like it. I could handle a nice, shallow pool fine. The ocean was another story. I didn’t like water in my eyes. I didn’t like not being able to touch the bottom. I didn’t like the feeling of things brushing past my legs. So maybe a resort town on the ocean wasn’t for me.

  I didn’t have to think about the many dangers of the ocean for long. I spotted Roman ahead of me, sitting in the sand, close enough to the water that the tide washed over his feet. His white linen shirt hung unbuttoned over his cargo shorts, displaying his glorious, sun kissed chest. His jaw sported the same sexy scruff that had scratched along my thighs last night, but his grab-on-and-ride hair was hidden under a straw fedora. With his dark good looks he didn’t blend in like a local or pass for a tourist. He looked like he owned the place and judging from the pulse building between my legs, he owned me—for tonight. For a week. I checked off day two on my internal calendar and tried not to think about what happened when that week was over.

  Roman’s head swiveled in my direction and a slow smile slid onto his lips. I bit my own as a dozen fantasies danced through my head. I’d spent the day feeling like I was dreaming, but here he was and I didn’t have to touch him to know he was flesh and blood. He was as real as my own racing heart and heated skin. I wanted to call it a purely physiological reaction—two heterosexuals experiencing the chemical process of attraction—but last night’s memories certainly contributed. He patted the sand next to him.

  “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. Not even Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy could get me that close to the water.

  “Afraid you won’t be able to resist my charms, mi bella?”

  Oh, I already knew that was a lost cause. My panties were practically dropping themselves. No, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my hesitation. “I don’t like the ocean.”

  Roman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Maybe Puerto Vallarta wasn’t the best vacation choice for you.”

  He could not have been more wrong. Puerto Vallarta was the perfect getaway spot. It was where he was.

  “You know I didn’t choose where we went,” I pointed out. He didn’t need to know how I really felt. I was thinking with my girlie bits, after all.

  “And still I’m glad you wound up here,” he admitted, “even if you’re afraid of the ocean.”

  “That’s not it. I mean, I like the ocean. I just don’t like touching it.” Judging from the look on his face, that wasn’t a better explanation. How could I explain that something so beautiful and serene was my own personal nightmare? “I’m not what you’d call a strong swimmer.”

  Roman stood and brushed wet sand from his shorts. “I’ll teach you how to swim.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. There was very little chance of him talking me into a swimsuit let alone the actual water. Of course, I’d said the same thing about going to bed with him. Maybe it was time I took up gambling, the odds seemed to have shifted in favor of the improbable lately.

  “Don’t you trust me?” He stalked toward me.

  I backed up a few steps, shaking my head, as a familiar sense of panic began racing through me. I’d seen this look before on other guys’ faces. It was the one they wore right before they threw me into a pool or a lake. Half the reason that I loved the Pacific Northwest was that it was usually too cold or too rainy to swim. Roman wasn’t a boy though. He was a man—six-feet-some-odd-inches of man at that. There was no way he’d toss me in the water. “I trust you. I don’t trust the undertow.”

  “I won’t let it pull you under.” His eyes smoldered as he spoke, his usually faint accent deepening with a sexy roll of his tongue.

  Why was I afraid of the ocean? I was already drowning.

  I was so caught up in his eyes that I didn’t have time to react when he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. I giggled as I struggled against his hold—until he ran into the ocean. So much for trusting him. Water splashed across my bare legs and my arms tightened into a vice grip around his neck.

  “What the hell?” I shrieked. Why did guys always want women to be damsels in distress?

  “You’re standing in the ocean, Jessica…and you’re alive.” Judging from the choked tone of his voice, he wouldn’t be much longer. If he died, we were both going in the water.

  “Put me down!” I smacked his back, wiggling in panic in his arms.

  “Are you sure about that?” Roman loosened his grip on me, allowing me to slide a few inches closer to my doom, and I realized what I was asking.

  “On second thought, don’t.”

  “Relax.” It was more of an order than a suggestion and part of my body obeyed, melting against him. “I have you.”

  “That’s easier said than done. You can swim,” I accused, equally frustrated with the situation and my body’s involuntary reactions to his presence. Roman Markson’s mere existence could not be enough to erase a lifelong phobia. So why did I feel more safe with each second he held me in his arms?

  “Cierra los ojos y aferrate a mi mientras que el mundo se nos escapa,” he said in a low voice that I had to strain to hear over the waves.

  I had no idea what he was saying but the huskiness of his voice sent a shiver tingling up my spine. “My Spanish isn’t that good.”

  “It’s a poem I’m working on. Do you want to hear it or do you want to accidentally drown yourself trying to escape?”

  “What’s it about?” I asked, giving in to curiosity but keeping my arms pinned around his neck for safe measure.

  “You.” His hands slid lower until he was cupping my ass. My body slid along his until our hearts were in perfect alignment. I wondered if he could feel mine beating like a wild bird that wanted fr
ee of its cage.

  “What does it mean?” I asked. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered the spray of the ocean on my toes, but I ignored it. His eyes met mine and the electricity of our connection sizzled in the air between us. I wanted to lean forward and close the distance but I clung to my last shreds of patience.

  “It means close your eyes and hold on to me as the world slips away.” His hands shifted, lowering me to my feet, but never leaving my body.

  Right then, I didn’t care that I was ankle deep in the ocean or that I could hardly swim. There was no fear. There was only Roman and all I wanted was to slip away with him. “Get me out of this water.”

  My words weren’t panicked or commanding, but they were a plea. He seemed to know what I was thinking and this time when he scooped me off my feet, I didn’t protest as he carried me back toward my villa.

  At the door, I slipped out of his arms and peeked inside. The lights were off inside and there was no sign of Cassie who was probably already watching television in her bed.

  “Coast is clear,” I breathed. It was all the invitation he needed.

  Roman’s lips slanted over mine, capturing my mouth. As the kiss deepened, I knocked his hat off, seizing his hair, and then I was in his arms. We crashed into the doorframe so hard that I knew I’d have a bruise along my tailbone tomorrow. Right now, I didn’t care. All I could think about was one thing: Get. Roman’s. Shirt. Off. As soon as my fingers slipped it over his shoulders, I sighed against his lips. My hands traveled over the coiled muscles, flexed from holding me against the wall, and another surge of desire shot through me. Roman should be studied. Clearly, he’d achieved a biological superiority that probably single-handedly proved the theory of evolution, since simply touching his body could reduce a well-educated, feminist, pre-med student into a shirt-clawing, hip-bucking sex kitten.

  Roman held me steady with one arm around my waist, my legs wrapped loosely against his trim hips, as his free hand shoved my sundress up. Our mouths tangled together along with our limbs as we sought to free ourselves of our extraneous clothes. Finally, I pulled away and shook my head. “I need you naked. Now.”