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But I can’t fucking stop, not when she’s being so emotional, so forward in her feelings, making me feel closer to her than I have yet.
“Tell me, Rayla,” I whisper.
She tilts her head, giggling. “Tell you what?”
I know I’m right as I lean forward, as I reach across the table and smooth hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. The message is written in every inch of her expression, in the way her lips twitch at the corners, in the light of her eyes.
“You’ve got something you want to say. Don’t try to lie to me. What is it?”
She bites her lip and then quickly lets it go, as she remembers the effect it has on me. But that – the way she bites and then releases it – drives me even more feral than if she’d just bitten it. Because now she knows how badly it makes me want her.
The silent battle we’re waging is almost a physical presence in the room, a heavy scent, a tempting song, a scream as our bodies try to will us together.
“It’s the song, singing about my forgotten lover, in the play.” She looks down at the table. “I was finding it difficult before, you know, to imagine I’d lost a lover. I’ve never had a lover, never even had anything close. But then I met you and—”
A heavy bolt of lightning slashes across the sky, flashing bright blue into the room, creating doubles and triples of everything in the shape of shadows, despite the candles and the soft glowing lamplight.
She giggles, shivering.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, reaching over and squeezing down on her shoulder, hoping she can feel the support through my touch. “I’m here.”
Reaching up, she grips onto my hand, squeezing down and nodding. “I know. And that’s what I mean. I can imagine what it would be like now, to have a lover… and to lose one.”
She looks up finally, staring intently into my eyes.
I wonder if she knows how enticing she looks when she stares like that, with her cheeks flushed, emotion blazing loudly in every part of her.
To lose one…
She’s talking about Millie, about our impossible future, about how our closeness could evaporate once the stormy ceases.
“You’re not going to lose me,” I snarl.
She flinches. “How can you say that?”
I laugh gruffly. “Fine, you’ve got me. I can’t say it, not if you want to be technical about it. Technically, I can’t say a goddamn thing. Technically, I need to keep my mouth shut until I know for sure what the future holds because the alternative is to get our hopes up, to make us care.
“But the thing is… I don’t give a damn. I don’t care about that. Because I care about you, Rayla, more than I can even understand. And whatever obstacles try to stop us from being together, I’ll tear them to pieces. I’d kill any bastard who tried to take you from me. I’d die for you, for us, for our future.”
Tears sparkle in her eyes and she nods. But there’s something unspoken in her expression, in the way she stares.
But what about Millie? You can’t fight that problem away.
She’s right, of course, she is, but I can’t bring myself to face the problem, to address it with words, as though ignoring it will make it go away.
“This steak is delicious,” I murmur, as I cut another strip.
She smiles widely, her face blooming with the simple joy of making me a meal. “Thank you, Roman. It means a lot. Really.”
For now, that’s enough, letting us sink into the beautiful simplicity of sharing a meal together.
We eat in silence for a little while, even if it’s not a true silence. The rain interrupts it and thunder continues to warble in the distance. Occasionally a lightning bolt shattering the heavens.
It’s a personal silence, contained within the two of us, as we sink into each other’s company.
It’s like we’re already married, already fused, so at ease with each other, we don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words.
Chapter Nineteen
Rayla
Roman looms over me, a giant mass of muscle and possible pleasure as he stares down at me. His eyes alert. His body is a behemoth, barely contained within the blue shirt he wore for dinner.
We stand at my bedroom door, in the darkened hallway. Tanker sits at Roman’s feet.
“I guess I should say goodnight,” he murmurs huskily.
I nod, bit my lip, and then let it go quickly.
He chuckles. “It drives me even crazier when you do that, angel. When you bite it and then let it go. It makes me realize how close you are to the edge too. But we’ve got our deal…”
“No more sex stuff.” I nod, trying to make the words seem firm, confident, trying to make it seem like I’m not constantly on the edge of letting go. “And we need to stick to it, at least until…”
