“What about your shoulder?”
“I’ve been trained well by an excellent PT.” He smirks. “She’s terrifying and beautiful and extremely bossy. I do whatever she tells me.”
“Roman—”
“One more night, Moxie. Then you’re mine.”
The team busback to the hotel is mostly empty. Everyone else took Ubers or caught the first bus. It’s just me, Roman, Jake, and a few rookies who are already passed out in the back.
I’m sitting three rows ahead of Roman, trying to read, trying to focus on the words in front of me, even knowing he’s back there watching me.
My phone buzzes.
Roman
Come here
I look back. He’s in the last row, sprawled out, looking completely relaxed.
No
Roman
That wasn’t a question
We’re on a bus
Roman
Everyone’s asleep. Come here. Now.
My heart is pounding. I glance around—the rookies are definitely out. Jake has headphones in, watching something on his tablet. The bus driver’s focused on the road.
I grab my bag and slide into the seat next to Roman.
“Hi,” he says, like this is casual. Like I didn’t just cross the bus because he told me to. “You look exhausted.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Mine.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “And it’s about to get worse.”
“I honestly don’t think it can get worse.”
“Straddle me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” His voice is low, commanding. “Climb on my lap. The seat backs are high enough that no one will see. And I want you on me.”
“This is insane?—”
“Marnie.” He leans forward slightly. “You have two choices. You can sit next to me for the rest of this drive and be good. Or you can climb on my lap and I’ll give you a preview of tomorrow. Your choice.”
It’s not a choice. We both know it’s not a choice.
I swing my leg over his lap carefully, settling against him. His hands immediately find my hips, pulling me down harder.
“There,” he says. “Much better.”
