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“You’re hot as fuck,” I whisper. “Now, that’s an observation.”
“So are you.” Her eyes gleam. “I know what’s under that suit now, so to say I’m a little excited being this close to you is an understatement.”
My gaze drops to her lap. “You want me.”
“Desperately,” she admits.
I take a chance and kiss her softly. “I’m available for a fuck anytime, Bianca.”
“Anytime?” she questions with another soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in bed at night tossing and turning because I’m thinking about you.”
I close my eyes because my cock is hardening, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. “I’m a phone call away.”
Running the pad of her thumb over my bottom lip, she sighs. “Open your eyes, Roman.”
I do, and the sight in front of me steals the breath from my lungs.
Her lips are parted, her eyelids heavy, and her breathing stuttered. She leans closer until her lips brush against my earlobe. “I can’t wait to suck you off on Thursday.”
It takes every ounce of strength I have not to groan aloud. “Bianca.”
One last kiss is all I get before she slides off the barstool, runs a hand over my shoulder, and walks away.
I tap the top of the bar. “Rolly, I’m going to need that drink after all. Make it a double.”
Chapter 32
Bianca
I had to run back to the market twice to get everything I needed to cook dinner tonight. I’m not using a recipe. This is more from memory. It’s a lamb dish that Maren made for me once while I sat and watched her.
I called her an hour ago to ask what spices I needed for the dry rub for the lamb chops. Before she listed them, she bombarded me with questions about why I was cooking a dish like that for myself.
I laughed it off and told her I was tired of take-out.
After that, she insisted that I make time next week to have dinner at her place with her and Keats. I agreed. It was enough to quiet the questions about why I’m preparing a lamb, rice pilaf, and Greek salad feast for myself.
I take a step back from the stove and inhale deeply.
Everything smells good. I take that as a great sign.
Just as I’m about to grab the dishes to set the table, there’s a knock at my door.
I gave Lester a heads-up earlier that I was expecting a guest tonight.
He had his own questions about that, so I slipped him a twenty dollar bill and told him to bring Roman up to my apartment as soon as he arrived. I added an extra ten when he agreed to forget that we had that conversation.
I have no idea if he’d tell Sabrina about my visitor, but since I’m meeting up with her tomorrow, I can fill her in myself.
I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel before I check my outfit one last time.
It’s simple.
Jeans and a black short-sleeve sweater.
My feet are bare, and my make-up is minimal. I went for mascara and light pink lipstick. I’ve caught enough sun lately to give my skin a natural glow.
I pad across the floor, taking deep breaths as I do.
When I reach the door, I close my eyes and wish for the best. It’s a simple thing I often saw my father do before he died.
It’s calming.
I swing open the door to find Lester with a smile on his face. Roman is directly behind him.
“Mr. Hawthorne has arrived,” Lester announces with an outstretched hand that’s in search of yet another tip.
I swat it for a low five. “Thanks.”
Roman works to hold in a laugh. “Thank you for the company on the ride up, Lester.”
Lester’s gaze volleys between Roman and me. “I suppose I’ll go now?”
“Bye.” I wave a few fingers in the air. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
With a shake of his head, he takes off toward the elevator, leaving me alone with the man I’m about to spend the night with.
***
As soon as Roman is inside my apartment, I start laughing.
He turns around to face me. “Is it my outfit?”
I take a step back and rake him from head-to-toe taking in the jeans and T-shirt he’s wearing. “You’ve never looked better.”
He tugs on the bottom of the shirt. “I thought you’d want to see me in this at least once.”
The New York Yankees T-shirt I bought him fits him like a glove. It does justice to his muscular arms and broad chest.
“You’re only going to wear it this one time?” I pout out my bottom lip. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to wear it again? Just for me?”
He closes the distance between us with a few measured steps. Before I know what’s happening, I’m wrapped up in his arms. “I believe we can work something out.”
