Her lips drew taut. She didn’t buy it. Clearly.
“You don’t ever mess up, not with me,” he added. “Not when it comes to us.”
He was the one who’d fucked shit up on that front. He was the one who’d walked away instead of taking the woman of his dreams up on her offer to wait for him. No, he couldn’t have stayed in Denver—he had a mission to get on with and a commanding officer ready to give him orders.
But he could’ve let Sadie in. Waited for her as much as she’d offered to wait for him.
Instead, he’d given up and he’d lost her.
He slipped his arm around her waist, lifting her under her knees and carrying her to the bed.
As gently as he could, he laid her on the bedspread.
He had no shirt. His jeans were around his thighs, ready to come off. His balls were still over the top of his underwear, erection standing at attention.
Yet, Sadie was still wearing most of the clothing she’d come in the room with.
And that was a travesty.
First, he shucked his pants and underwear. Then he went to work on Sadie.
“I’ve taken a lot of pictures,” he said, grazing the length of her neck with his teeth. “You in this moment? It makes all of them look like a drawing done by a preschooler.”
Her chest heaved, breasts round and lush. “I’ve seen your photos, that’s not true.”
He held her face between his palms. “You’re the most honest thing I’ve ever put my eyes on.”
Her gaze slipped to the left. “I’m a lawyer. We don’t get called honest often.”
He adjusted her so her gaze held his once more. “You’re my Sadie.”
And that was the truth of any question he would ever be asked. She was Sadie. The best of the best. More than she knew. More than she believed.
“You have the kind of beauty that can’t be captured by a camera. The kind that lives in the picture of a memory. The kind that has nothing to do with the beauty of appearance and everything to do with the beauty of who you really are.”
Her expression softened. “Then why are you nearly naked and I’m not?”
“Because you’re that much better than me.” He chuckled and nuzzled her neck, his hands tracing up the inside of her thighs under her skirt. He pulled the edge of her cotton panties aside, finding her core and giving it the kind of attention that made her gasp.
He worked her skirt up over her hips to her waist and stared at the bare expanse of Sadie.
Fuck it. He was about to enjoy the hell out of this and gorge on all things Sadie.
Mouth to her core, he sucked and licked and reveled in the scent and taste of the woman he’d missed more than words could describe.
“Thank you for not kicking me out of the party tonight,” he said between strokes with his tongue.
She was Sadie, so he knew a reply was imminent. It would likely be something witty. He didn’t want her debating with herself or him while he was between her legs, so he did the tongue thing that had always gotten her attention before. It didn’t fail him.
“Rome,” she said on a breath, not even starting any kind of tirade about lingerie.
She said his name as her heels dug into his back. He knew that meant she appreciated his ability to suck and lick at the same time.
“How do you do that?” she said on a gasp.
He had no idea, but he was pretty proud of the tongue thing, if he did say so himself. He stroked her thighs in response to her question, unwilling to break the seal of what he was doing between her legs.
The heels at his back dug harder. Yeah, if he would be a betting man, he’d guess she was about ten seconds from—
She let out a gasp and her sex clenched right where his tongue was.
Uh-huh. That’s what he thought.
With her legs wrapped around his head, heels at his back, and hands in his hair, he continued his persistence between her legs, letting a photo of the moment develop in his mind.
“I forgot how good you are at that,” she finally said, her voice breathy as she came down from the high of her orgasm.
He lifted his face from her core. He kissed her right at the center of her pleasure spot before crawling up her entirely-too-dressed body.
Sadie caught his gaze.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked.
He kissed her mouth, his erection digging into her hip.
She reached for it, running a hand along his shaft. A teardrop formed at the head. Yeah, his dick was weeping because Sadie was sated and ready to take care of him.
She sat up, taking Roman with her.
She released her grip on his shaft and reached around to the back waistband of her skirt to deal with the clasp there.
“I’ve got to…” She started to wiggle the skirt over her thighs. “Get this thing…”
Roman kissed Sadie until she fell backward on the bed. Then, with the precision of a man taught to handle intense situations that involved grenades and artillery, he pulled her skirt down over her thighs, across her knees, and tossed it aside.
“Rome,” she said on a gasp.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked.
He kept spare condoms in his nightstand, but the evening would be a helluva lot more fun if they didn’t have to go that route.
Her heady gaze cleared. “Yeah. Do you want—?”
Seeing as she was the only woman he ever had any intention of taking to bed again, yeah, he wanted.
“I’m clean.” His erection traced the inside of her thigh, settling right at the core where he’d just had his mouth.
“Me, too.” She said, the last word coming out muffled as his erection teased her entrance. “Pill, yes. We can do it without a—”
And that was all he needed. She was wet and ready, and he was beyond any sort of control. He entered her with a soft thrust. He did his best to be gentle and give her time to adjust to the weight of him.
Sadie moved against him.
Their eyes met. Their gazes melded.
This was it for him.
This was everything.
He released the restraint he’d been holding on to and let go, moving inside the woman he hoped like hell would let him call her his own. Someday.
Someday soon.
They had sex.
Amazing sex that involved a generous helping of orgasms.
Dammit, she knew better. She wasn’t a doe-eyed postgrad anymore.
What was she thinking? What was she doing? Sadie closed her eyes, draping her forearm across her eyelids as Roman slept beside her in his bed. He lay on his back with Sadie curled into his side, her calf draped over his thigh, and her core pressed against his hip.
Gah, she should roll over. Slink out of bed, get dressed, call roadside assistance or Marlee, re-air her tires, and move along.
Roman’s subconscious must’ve felt the shift inside of her because his arm flexed around her waist.
The problem was that she didn’t want to leave.
She wasn’t thrilled the rims of her tires were currently kissing rubber and asphalt, but she had to hand it to Babushka. The old woman knew how to get her way.
Babushka got exactly what she wanted.
So did I.
Thick reality settled in her throat.
Maybe everything she’d ever done had been leading right back to Roman.
Right back to heartbreak.
She had a job to do. A life to live. Clients.
She needed to slam dunk Tonya’s case. Soon. She couldn’t let the distraction of Roman, well…distract her.
After the Snooze-versus-Syrup breakfast fiasco, Sadie wasn’t sure they’d ever sign the papers. She’d felt the well of panic start to encourage questions of whether she’d made the right choice.
Sadie needed this win.
And Roman?
She peeked at where he slept with his arms wrapped around her—his breathing even and his eyelids closed.
She’d double-dipped when she�
��d sworn to herself she never would. This wasn’t going to end well—she knew it deep in her divorce-attorney bones.
The scary part wasn’t that she hadn’t cared last night after Roman shucked his shirt and she’d been treated to a front row seat to all that was Roman. The scary part was that she wasn’t as worried now, in the clear morning, as reason told her to be. She didn’t regret what had happened. Couldn’t regret it. Not when everything had felt so right.
Her body seemed to snuggle into Roman in an effort to show her it was still right.
Roman may have been a distraction she couldn’t afford. But he was now, officially, her distraction.
A distraction who had just opened his eyes. “Nohchnaya—”
Sadie pressed her fingertips over his lips. “No more hooker names.”
The lips under the pads of her fingers stretched into a smile. He shifted on the bed, his body pressing against hers. “Then I’ll have to come up with something else.”
“Now I’m worried,” she said dramatically. “But I’m not sure what you could possibly come up with that’s worse than that.”
He pressed his lips against hers in a lingering kiss. She snuggled against his side.
“Don’t dare me,” he said, his breath mixing with hers. “I’ll have to deliver.”
The evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh. She felt that pressure go straight between her legs, drenching her sweet spot.
Nope, there wasn’t a shred of regret that morning. But eventually, she was certain, she’d freak out about it.
“I missed you, Rome.” Her body continued to respond to his arousal with a whole lot more than simple tingles.
Whether she rolled onto her back or Roman rolled her onto her back, she couldn’t be sure. But she was on her back and Roman was over her and life was pretty awesome.
“You waited,” he said it as though it were an accusation.
She started to pull back, pressing her head into the pillows. “I didn’t.”
His grip around her tightened and he pressed his forehead against hers. “Oh, but Sadie, you did.” The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed, working as he swallowed. “Thank God you did.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I have to go inside,” Sadie said against Roman’s lips. He had her pinned against the wall outside her office, mouth on hers.
It was too early for the building to be open, so it was just the two of them in an empty hallway.
They’d slipped back so easily into the physical part of their relationship, and for the second time in her life, Sadie spent a weekend wrapped up in Roman Dvornakov. What was left of the weekend anyway.
Last time, she’d been nervous that he’d leave. This time, she was worried about what would happen if he stayed.
His thigh pressed between her legs.
And she was at work.
And they needed to seriously cool things off before someone climbed off the elevator and got more of a peep show than they’d bargained for on their way to work.
“I’ve got to go call the agency and get a receptionist sent over.”
Roman tipped his forehead to hers. “Good luck with that.”
His cell buzzed in his pocket.
He ignored it.
“Shouldn’t you see who that is?”
“Everyone who matters is right here.”
“You’re such a putz.”
But he was a putz who had a way with words.
“I’m being serious, Sadie.” And that smolder in his gaze? He was totally being serious. And his seriousness was totally turning her on.
Neither of them moved. Life felt good with Roman so close to her. Or maybe that was just her overreacting hormones that perked right up when his erection pressed against her.
“I to spend time with your mom and dad,” Roman said, the smolder still in place. “I want to meet your sisters.”
Okay, well, that killed the mood she was feeling.
“My sisters don’t live here.”
He played with the end of her hair. “I want to know all about you, Sadie.”
So he did get it.
“That’ll make things harder when this ends.”
“It’s not going to end.”
“Everything ends.”
“Then we’ll ride the wave as long as we can. Isn’t that the only thing anyone can ever ask?”
Funny, she always thought they asked for forever.
“Is this about the silly thing you didn’t want to talk about?” he asked.
She gulped. He did pay especially close attention.
“It’s not rational,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not important.”
She explained the whole thing about how her old firm based a career on the first case.
“Mine was a close call. It could’ve gone either way. I thought I’d end the day with no job.”
Roman scowled. “That’s a pretty serious mind-fuck they put on you.”
Maybe. She dropped her gaze to the soft Berber carpeting of the hallway.
He wasn’t done. “Sadie, if you need this win? You’ll get it.”
There was no way he could know that. He didn’t see life through the same lens as she did.
“It’s going to be okay.” He pulled away, adjusting himself as she smoothed her skirt. She went to unlock the office door only to find that the door wasn’t latched. Sadie frowned.
Roman held the door open and Babushka was already seated at the reception desk, her oversized Louis Vuitton perched on one side and about fifteen eight-by-ten frames holding pictures of various family members scattered throughout the reception area.
Babushka gave Sadie that look of hers that x-rayed her thoughts. Then, with a flash of teeth and an expression of pure joy on Babushka’s face, Sadie was certain she caught a fist pump.
Fine, Sadie had been kissing Roman in the hallway before they entered the office. They were acting like teenagers, but she didn’t regret it.
“Babushka,” Sadie said. “What are you doing here?”
“I vork here.”
“No, we discussed this. I had dinner with your family so you wouldn’t work here.”
“I vill not answer the phones. Cross my heart.”
“That is not what—”
“Fine print matters,” Roman whispered in Sadie’s ear.
Shit. He was so right.
Babushka stood. She was wearing a bright orange dress with an abundance of cleavage. “I am glad you are here. I brought you coffee.”
Babushka removed a Starbucks to-go cup from her purse. She pulled out the stopper and handed it over. Sadie wasn’t the type of person who knew a whole lot about designer purses, but she did know without a doubt that one never put a grande cappuccino inside of a Louis Vuitton.
She took a sip. Oh, Babushka’s purse gave good cappuccino. “Why are you here now?”
“Now?”
“It’s not time for the office to be open.”
Sadie wasn’t entirely certain she was going to like the answer to the question.
Babushka sat back down at her chair and pulled it toward the desk. She slashed her hand toward Sadie’s personal office. “I come to vork early to fix your office.”
Uh. There was nothing wrong with Sadie’s office. That is, nothing wrong other than the elderly woman who had taken up apparent permanent residence at the reception desk.
Gah. Sadie had a sinking feeling that while her personal office had been perfect before, that wasn’t going to be the case any longer.
The air seemed heavier around her as her feet propelled her forward. She reached the doorway to her personal space and sucked in a lungful of air.
Babushka had somehow managed to rearrange Sadie’s office furniture so the desk was now under the window and the sofa was near the bookcase. She’d added pink pillows on the sofa that totally popped with color but were way too exciting for an office where Sadie planned to meet those in the throes of losing their relationships. Ba
bushka had added hot-pink curtains, a brown polka-dot beanbag chair, and a small bowl holding two goldfish.
The goldfish had their own nameplate. It read Wasabi and Sushi. At least Babushka hadn’t named them something totally obvious, like Bubbles and Fin.
Still, she’d bought Sadie an office pet? And then she’d adorned the room with hot-pink accents. It said both hi, I’m a divorce attorney and also you might be in a brothel or a fifteen-year-old’s bedroom.
Oh dear. Had the room started to spin a little?
Sadie had spent the weekend wrapped up with Roman and now she had two pet fish and an elderly receptionist who she didn’t pay but wouldn’t leave.
The worst part of it all, the thing that absolutely grated? Sadie actually liked the fish. And she liked their names. And the new arrangement actually felt more open and made the small space feel larger. The pink wasn’t totally intrusive, either. Not totally. Only slightly.
Sure, Sadie would now be meeting clients only in the conference room down the hall, but this room looked so much more festive. And happy.
Sadie scooted around the edge of her desk, dropping her purse on the top. She looked up and there on the wall in her direct line of sight was an eight-by-ten photo of Roman in a pink frame. Her blood pressure seemed to pause, the blood just taking a short break on its way through her veins.
Roman followed her into the space with a low whistle. “This is different.”
Sadie pointed at the photograph.
Roman choked on air. “That’s not subtle at all.”
“So far, not much your grandmother has done is subtle.” Sadie wasn’t even certain his grandmother understood the meaning of the word.
He nodded. “It’s true.”
“What do you have on your agenda today?” she asked, toying with the edge of her desk.
He lifted a shoulder. “You know, the usual.”
“I have no idea what that is for you.”
Aside from the way he liked his middle-of-the-night blow job, Sadie didn’t really know anything about his day-to-day life. That realization made her stomach hurt.
Roman seemed to sense the shift in her. “I’ve got a few studio clients this morning, lunch with a new buddy who didn’t have as great of a weekend as I did, and then a meeting with a new bridal client. You?”
Do Me a Favor: A second chance, hilarious rom com! (Mile High Matched Book 4) Page 20