Roman’s hand found hers as they made their way to her apartment near the University of Denver. A heady buzz of adrenaline and lust wrapped around them in the confined space.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Nope.” She’d eaten before she went to the party. Even if she were hungry, she had many, many other things on her mind. “You?”
“No.”
“You leave Monday?” she confirmed.
“Early.” He tapped a beat along with the music, his thumb brushing against the fleshy spot at the base of her thumb.
“Big mission?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t usually know where I’m going until I’m halfway there. This one’s an aid mission though. Not classified. They need a photographer to track their progress for evidence. Should be an easy one while I get back into the swing of things. Time off always screws with my head.”
“What exactly is a hard one?” She cleared her throat. “Mission. I mean.”
“Anytime bullets are coming at me, it’s not an easy one.” The words were serious and said without emotion—flat—but they were accompanied by a flash of dimples and relaxed shoulders.
“You like those, too, though, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He kept his focus on the road, moving his hand away from hers to turn onto the street leading to her building. “Keeps things interesting.”
Bullets? Nopers. Interesting was not the word she’d use. “Do you get to come home often?”
“Not a lot of time off for me. But I like what I do. Like that it’s never the same thing twice.”
She fidgeted with the zipper on her handbag. “I’m with you. I like to be moving forward. Toward something.”
“Exactly.” He looked her way, a camaraderie sparking between them at their mutual understanding.
“Next left, last building.” She pointed at the gray building that housed her teeny tiny apartment.
Roman walked behind her as they climbed the stairs to her front door. They didn’t touch—the promise of what was to come taunted her, making her skin tingle and her mouth water.
This was just one of those one-night—maybe two-night—things. Nothing serious. Nothing more than sex between two overachievers both waiting for the next move.
But once they were inside and Roman’s hands landed on her hips, things felt a whole lot more serious than they’d ever felt for her before.
Palm against his jawline, she ran the tip of her nose against his.
He grinned, moving in. Sadie’s body instinctively moved with his as he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead and then her temple before moving down to kiss her cheek, ending with her lips.
Sadie knew there were all kinds of kisses—the fast kind, the slow kind, the meh kind, the holy-crap-this-is-good kind—but Roman’s kiss was unique in its ability to turn her legs to applesauce.
She gripped the muscles of his shoulders for support as his mouth moved in tandem with hers, his tongue sliding with hers, his body pressing against hers.
She led him to the bed, kissing him the entire way—heat and flesh and the carnal need to be with him propelling her forward.
“Sadie,” he whispered as they fell against her bedspread.
God, he said her name like she was special. And that was the kind of moment a girl wanted to put a pin in so that she could come back to it over and over again.
The kind of moment when nothing would be the same.
The kind of moment that ignited the next, which would lead to the next and the next until, eventually, everything would fall apart.
Everything always fell apart.
Chapter Two
Before
Three Days Later…
Roman Dvornakov didn’t much care for coming home to Denver for extended periods of time.
He had a gig taking photos for Uncle Sam and he loved it. He and his camera, Louise—yes, he’d named her. No, he didn’t think it was weird. Louise went through all the shit with him and came out on the other side. She may have been a camera, but they were a team.
Once he’d taken off for basic, he hadn’t looked back toward Denver. His future was with his career, the military, and Louise. That’s where he liked to keep his focus.
Eye on the prize or whatever cliché bullshit that was.
This time, coming home hadn’t sucked quite so hard. Probably because he spent the majority of his last weekend in town with a pretty brunette who had a penchant for driving his blood pressure up with conversation and, well, other things, too.
“I just think that if you’re going to call it one of the blockbuster movies of the summer, then it should actually be a good movie.” Her hips swayed where his hand lay against her waist as they walked out of the theater.
“I didn’t hate it.” He hadn’t actually liked it, either.
“I’ll never get those hours of my life back,” Sadie said with a huff.
Yeah, he’d heard that loud and clear when she’d announced her intention to leave several times throughout the show.
In the end, she’d convinced herself to stay each time. See the thing through. He’d had such a good time watching her argue with herself, he’d figured it was worth the price of admission.
“Maybe by ‘blockbuster,’ they just meant the amount of money the movie made.” She started talking with her hands like she always did when she entered into a Sadie-debate with herself.
Roman gave her side a little squeeze. “Or maybe by ‘blockbuster,’ they mean the movie’s just okay.”
“That makes no sense. They have to have a reason for why they called it that. So it’s either quality or money. Those are the only two things that make sense.” She threw her hands wide.
The thing was, he figured Sadie’s fire would eventually fizzle out if he didn’t engage. He had a sister who got riled up, and a mother who got more riled up, and his grandmother? He shivered.
He didn’t claim to understand women. No, not at all. But he understood, in this situation, the best case was to simply let Sadie go on about whatever got stuck in her nerves. If his hunch was correct, she’d eventually let it go and focus on something else.
She was the only person he knew who could accomplish such a solid debate without anyone else being involved.
“I think they should clarify their advertisements,” she went on. “Hey, come see our movie! It makes lotsa money, but we half-assed the cinematography.”
He gave a throaty laugh. “I’d buy a ticket to that movie.”
“You already did, so you don’t count.” Her mouth moved into a smile then. The kind of smile he hoped meant she was over her tizzy and would now release her tension another way.
A better way.
The bedroom way.
Although, that way didn’t have to include a bed. Sadie was inventive, that was for sure.
He was all on board with wherever they landed.
They circled around the large fountain outside the theater.
“I love fountains,” she said, wistful.
The water splashed over the stone, creating a melody of sound that had the ability to relax a guy’s neck muscles without even trying.
Sadie rummaged through her purse. After finding a penny, she gripped it in her hand, studying the image of Abraham Lincoln and polishing it with her thumb. She nibbled at the corner of her lip.
“Are you going to make a wish?” he asked as she continued her consideration of the stamped copper.
She gulped.
“I was just reevaluating my wish.”
He stood behind her, nuzzling his chin against her neck. “You can wish for whatever you want.”
“That’s not how it works at all.” She furrowed her eyebrows in a cute way that made him want to know why it wouldn’t work that way.
See a fountain. Make a wish. Toss the penny. Move along with life.
“You have to hold the coin and wait. The wish comes right to you,” she said.
“The wish comes to you
?” he asked.
“You’re supposed to go with whatever comes to you, but I’m not sure that what came to me is what I want.”
She was putting a whole lot of effort into this wish thing. Personally? He’d wish for a buttload of money, toss a coin in the water, and call it good.
Sadie had other ideas. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
He didn’t move. Roman wasn’t a superstitious guy, but the way Sadie held that single cent like it was a gold coin… He wasn’t going to muck any of that up. As quick as she closed her eyes, she opened them and flicked the coin into the water. It landed with a soft plunk.
“What was that?” Roman asked.
“I made a wish.”
“With your eyes closed?”
“That’s how you make a wish.”
Roman grinned. No one had ever explained wish making to him in such detail. They didn’t move—the only sound that of the water trickling in the background of the night—until a moth flew by.
“Was that a butterfly?” she asked with another lip nibble.
“Moth,” he replied.
She shook her head. “Too big for a moth. Definitely a butterfly.”
Definitely not a butterfly.
She adjusted to face him. His hand fell from her hip and their fingers tangled together instead.
He was not about to argue about the species of an insect.
The gleam in her eye was one of steam and fire.
“Nohchnaya babachka,” he muttered.
Her eyes were brown pools of molten gemstone. “That’s pretty, what does it mean?”
“Nighttime butterfly.” He calmed his breathing because just that look in her eye had him nearly panting. Rounding to stand in front of him, she pressed up on her toes until their lips met. His jeans got a touch tighter in the crotch. The hairs along his arms stood on end.
Yeah, he didn’t mind being back in Denver when he spent all his time with Sadie. Denver with Sadie nearly made him forget all about Louise and Uncle Sam. Nearly.
Her kiss against his lips was light, but there was a promise of what he hoped like heck she’d offer later.
A later he was hoping would be soon.
She broke the kiss and tugged his hand still linked with hers. She walked double-time to get to his rental car, a Corolla that smelled like the previous occupant had made an unsuccessful attempt to cover the scent of cigarette smoke with floral potpourri.
He unlocked and opened the passenger door for her. She took that opportunity to kiss him again. This time, she used her tongue. The only thing keeping them from being totally indecent in that parking lot was the fact that they were both wearing clothes.
He broke the kiss and ran to the driver’s side door so he could get her someplace they could fall into a bed—or not—and she could release that blockbuster-movie-debate tension in a way that would make them both very happy.
He did the quick math in his head. Her place was fifteen minutes away. That’s where they’d been spending the majority of their time together. But he had a hotel room at the Cherry Creek Holiday Inn that was only five minutes out. No way was he coming home and staying with family. He needed his own space, and often.
He and Sadie hadn’t spent any time at the hotel. No reason to when Sadie’s bed was warm and her fridge was stocked.
Still, he wanted to use his time wisely, so he made the instant decision that it’d be an evening at the Holiday Inn.
Her hand splayed against the denim on his thigh, close to the erection pressing against his pocket but not touching it, as he turned over the ignition.
Those were the longest five minutes of his life. Sadie had the patience of a saint as they hit stoplight after stoplight. She was totally nonplussed by the ridiculously long five-minute drive. Every time they hit a red, she used her fingertip to trace the head of his erection over the fabric of his jeans and drive him utterly bonkers.
For the first five lights, Sadie didn’t say anything. She let her hand talk for her.
When the sixth light turned red as they pulled up to it, her hand continued whisper-tracing his dick while she dove into an oral dissection of Denver traffic signals and her theories as to why they cockblocked him. Her argument was 100 percent worthy of the Supreme Court. Sadie covered her ass and the fine print even with pretend arguments.
By some miracle, and it wasn’t thanks to Denver’s traffic engineers, they made it to the hotel. Up the elevator. Into his room.
Sadie wasted no time, and neither did he. His dick shed a grateful tear when the door to his room shut behind them and Sadie dropped to her knees, unbuckled his belt, undid his fly, and let his erection fly free.
He groaned deep in his throat.
Thank fuck.
She could use that mouth of hers to create an argument where none existed. He thought that was cute. She could also use that mouth of hers to take his already hard dick and make it swear allegiance to whatever argument she wanted to make at that moment. From blockbuster movies to traffic lights, he totally agreed with whatever she had to say about anything right then.
Hand to the base of his shaft, she sucked and licked until he nearly fell to his knees. That wouldn’t do, so he sagged against the heavy metal hotel door behind him. The emergency exit map bit into his shoulder, the Do Not Disturb sign hanging from the doorknob pressed against his hip, but he didn’t give two shits. His entire focus was on the magic Sadie’s mouth could perform without even a word.
He dropped his palm to the crown of her head, lightly tracing down to her cheek. Wanting to give something back, but unable to do anything except revel in what she was doing below his now unzipped fly.
The white phone on the nightstand let out a shrill riiing.
His mind, his body, his dick all begged it to stop ringing. He’d shut off his cell when the movie had started earlier that evening and never turned it back on.
The fucking phone didn’t listen to his mental begging. It kept on ringing, cockblocking him like the traffic lights before.
Sadie lifted her gaze, drifting it up to his in a silent question as to whether he needed to get that. Even as her eyes met his, her mouth didn’t stop working him.
Thank fuck, the phone stopped ringing.
Sadie smiled a cat’s-got-her-cream grin.
Yes, Sadie Howard was the kind of woman he could get used to in his life.
And not just because she gave phenomenal head.
Not just because he could worship her body for hours. No, Sadie had it all. She was smarter than he’d ever hope to be. Filled with spitfire he never knew he was into, she made his blood hum and his nerves fire. The way she picked a fight with herself? That was a turn-on he’d never expected.
The phone rang again.
Damn.
Fuck it all, he needed to get that.
His commanding officer was one of the handful of people who knew where he was staying. The others being his mother and father and his brother Jase. The latter was the reason he hesitated to grab the receiver.
Damn. No.
But shit. Yes.
“I need to be sure it’s not my CO,” he said, his vocal cords rough from heavy breathing.
Sadie released his dick from her mouth, giving it a quick kiss at the tip that made him reconsider stepping to the phone and picking up the receiver.
Yeah, this was the best furlough he’d ever experienced.
The shrill ring echoed through the room again.
A firm dressing down from the higher-ups bore into his thoughts.
Right. He had to take care of this.
Still exposed from the waist down, he dropped his ass to the bed and picked up the receiver.
Sadie snuggled in behind him.
She’d lost her top on her trip to the bed, her satin bra tossed to the floor with her shirt. Her bare breasts now pressed against his shoulder blades.
That was a fuckuva lot better than the emergency exit sign on the door.
“Dvornakov,” he said in
to the receiver, stroking her arms draped over his shoulders.
“You are in. Vonderful. I’ll be right there,” his grandmother said on the other end of the line.
Fuck no.
He pulled a pillow over his lap to cover himself. His dick shriveled against the linen pillowcase.
“Wait,” he said, the desperation clear in his tone, even to him. But the line had already gone dead. “Shit,” he said into the vacant line.
Sadie hadn’t moved. “Everything okay?”
“No.” He held the pillow over his junk, stood, and yanked up his pants. “My grandmother is on her way here.”
Sadie’s eyes got extra big and she snatched the other pillow off the bed to cover her breasts.
That was a shame.
“That’s not good,” she said.
No, it was not good.
His grandmother was elderly, but she was spry, and who knew how quickly she’d make it to the Holiday Inn.
It’d either be two hours, if she got distracted by the Macy’s display at Cherry Creek Mall, or ten minutes, if it was urgent and she didn’t stop to window-shop.
“You want me to go?” She had already begun putting her bra back on.
“No.” He shook his head. He did not want her to go.
“I should go,” she said softly. “I mean, it’s nice that you don’t mind if I stay. But your grandma doesn’t need to meet your latest Denver fling.”
The way she said it indicated she thought this was his standard operating procedure. Finding a pretty girl, entertaining himself, and then going back to work.
That was definitely not his standard operating procedure. He opened his mouth to tell her just that—
“If your grandmother is anything like mine, it’s probably best if I just head out. You don’t want to explain what we’ve been up to.” She made a yeesh face, then kissed his cheek. “We can catch up later.”
“I don’t care what my grandmother thinks,” he said, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her forehead.
“You’re sweet, Rome.” She looked up at him from under a filter of eyelashes. “Sweet and really asking for trouble if you introduce me to your family. I mean, I’m amazing. They’ll be all disappointed that we’re temporary. It’ll get weird when they start inviting me to family functions and stuff without you. We shouldn’t make it weird.”
Do Me a Favor: A second chance, hilarious rom com! (Mile High Matched Book 4) Page 2