Page 161 of Romeo

“Fuck.”

This wasn’t new. Wanting Fiona had been a low-grade form of torture for months. Usually, I could redirect it. Take a shower. Work. Go ride until my head cleared.

Tonight, her words had gotten too far under my skin.

My hand moved to the button of my jeans.

I hesitated for exactly one second before giving up on the war in my mind.

The zipper sounded loud in the quiet room as I freed myself and wrapped my hand around my cock. The first stroke dragged a rough breath from my chest, and I closed my eyes.

Fiona filled the darkness immediately.

Not some faceless fantasy built around a body.

Her.

Those silver eyes watching me. The slight crease between her brows when she was trying to work out what I meant. The way I envisioned her mouth curved right before she typed something meant to annoy me.

I imagined finally standing close enough that neither of us had a screen to hide behind. Her hand at the back of my neck. Her breath warm against my mouth.

You make it very hard not to love you.

My grip tightened.

I wanted to hear the rest of that sentence with her looking straight at me.

I wanted her to say my name without using it as a wall between us. Wanted to kiss her until she forgot why she’d ever needed one.

My hand moved faster, desire tightening low in my body while every thought narrowed to Fiona.

What she’d feel like against me.

What sound she’d make if I kissed the place beneath her ear.

Whether she’d hold on or push me harder once she finally stopped being afraid of wanting me.

Months of restraint lived inside every image, making each one sharper.

When release finally hit, it came hard enough to pull her name from me.

“Fiona.”

I stayed slumped against the headboard for several seconds afterward, catching my breath before reaching for the towel beside the bed and cleaning myself up.

The room felt particularly quiet once I was done.

Her phone remained dark on the nightstand.

Goodnight, Jasper.

I laughed softly.

The woman knew exactly what she’d done. I picked up the phone and read her earlier message one more time.

You make it very hard not to love you.

For months, I’d thought the waiting would eventually break me.