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My words seemed to stir something in him that looked like happiness mixed with despair.
“You keep going against my plan,” he said.
Roman was a strong, capable man, there was no doubt about that. But the flash of vulnerability in his eyes called to me. Since the first night I’d seen him, I’d recognized the level of need, of pain, that he tried to keep hidden. And without knowing it, we’d bonded over common ground. We didn’t know what the ground was, only that it existed—in both of us.
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked. I had pieces, but nothing was adding up.
I took a mental tally of everything I’d learned about Roman so far. His need for control. His kindness, softness, regard for my wellbeing. He understood me and my anxiety, because he knew what it felt like, but then stayed away from me for days on end.
It was like he was worried I would lose my innocence. Or rather, the idea of innocence he thought I radiated. Yet when we made love, it was hard, rough, consuming. What had happened to him to make him so closed off? Even when he sometimes seemed open, it was mostly a facade. There was nothing easy about understanding Roman Reese.
“What are you so afraid of?” I asked.
He leaned toward me, his thumb brushing across the seam of my mouth. “You.”
He pulled my bottom lip between his two. Cupping my face with one palm, he snaked his tongue inside my mouth, and in one burst of crisp decadence, I tasted everything Roman was.
There were so many things I wanted to tell him. That I…what? Liked him? Needed him? And there was so much I desperately wanted from him in return. Opening up the way he had, though it had been slight, brought hope of progress. But it also brought more questions. I didn’t know where to begin or how to end. I just wanted…
“More,” I breathed against his mouth and kissed him hard. Slowing the pace, he gently pulled back, reached behind his neck, and pulled his shirt over his head. In one movement, the material was gone and Roman stood before me, shirtless, the firelight flickering on his tan skin.
I smiled, and took my time examining him. I had seen him before, but always in some kind of clothing. Some kind of visual obstruction. But not this time, and I fully intended to take advantage of that.
“You’re flawless,” I breathed, staring at everything from the curve of his shoulders to the taper of his waist, and the sexy way his hips formed a V that disappeared into his low-slung pants. So much hard muscle wrapped his chest and lower torso. Not an ounce of extra was on him, and when his stomach flexed on an uneasy breath, I all but drooled.
“Scrutiny can make a man uneasy,” he said, a light note in his voice.
I shook my head dumbly, my eyes still taking in the expanse of his body. “Not scrutiny.” I finally met his gaze. “Admiration.”
Yet, I knew how it felt to stand before someone with all your vulnerabilities exposed. I took in his every expression, which was becoming more strained by the second. Though he was just shirtless, which wasn’t typically a big deal for a man, Roman was obviously a bit nervous. Had he never been like this with anyone before? Exposed and open to their view? Again, I wondered why. But that would have to wait, because I didn’t want him to think he was anything less than perfection.
I pulled my shirt off, leaving me in only my panties, and hoped this would put him a bit more at ease. I closed the distance between us. Roman looked shocked, and when I launched to my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around him, his body tensed slightly.
“You’re beautiful,” I said and hugged him closer.
My breasts pressed against his bare chest, and the feel of his hot skin against mine was like coming home. His body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around me, his big palms splaying over my back.
“What am I going to do with you, Amy?” he said into my ear. “Every damn time I think I’ve got a read on you,” he kissed the top of my head, “how you’re going to react, you throw me off.”
I kissed his shoulder, then trailed little kisses to his chest over his heart. The strong beat was soothing. Gently releasing my hold, I skimmed my fingertips to his stomach and ran them down his side, feeling all that power beneath my touch.
Never taking my mouth from his skin, I slowly slid to my knees, kissing every ridge of his stomach as I went. He tensed again, those chiseled flanks of muscle jumping beneath my tongue.
“Amy…”
My name in that voice sent shivers down my spine.
I nipped his hip bone and looked up at him. Something fierce and stark simmered beneath his skin, so acutely I could almost see a glow surrounding him.
Whatever tore at Roman’s mind on a regular basis was very much alive. I felt it. Felt his brain roil as the battle between what he wanted, needed, and what he didn’t understand played out on his face. I wanted to chase away whatever awful memories came with such an expression. Because for the first time, I truly understood: Roman was at odds with himself. And in this moment, it was my fault.
It was time to make myself clear and alleviate the burden of thinking…for him.
On my knees before him, I licked my lips.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” I said, looking up at him, my fingers trailing over the band of his pants.
He cupped my face and the tic in his jaw moved. He was overthinking things again. I wanted to be something good for him. Something he enjoyed. Someone he respected.
