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By the time it occurred to me that this guy could be a serial killer and images of my death at his hands filtered through the lust-filled haze in my mind, it was too late.
Roman had already wrapped my hand in his and led me through the underground tunnels back to the surface. Then, he continued to hang on tightly as he helped me into the passenger side of a brand-new red Bugatti. This was the gold standard of cars, and in my wildest dreams, I hadn’t ever been the kind of girl who rode in one.
“Holy shit.” I took a deep breath and tried not to touch anything. For fuck’s sake. I’d never forgive myself if I accidentally marred the perfection surrounding me. Black leather interior as soft as butter against my skin, and so many different functions—I was in awe. What if I accidentally tracked dirt on his floorboards? This car was worth more than I’d make in a lifetime, and certainly was the kind of vehicle he wouldn’t just clean if it got dirty. Didn’t run to the body shop if the paint chipped. Didn’t take for granted. This was a thing of beauty. I curled my body into itself. I didn’t even want to leave a fingerprint.
“What is it?” Roman asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Whatever he’d observed on my face didn’t please him. His features darkened, maybe by the shadows in the dim light, or maybe because he was waiting for my answer. His crystal eyes were shining, but there wasn’t anything I could say to properly express my current problems. “Rylie?”
I couldn’t let him think I’d changed my mind. I hadn’t. It was just myCinderellacarriage was a little bit out of my league.A lot. So far out of my league, I couldn’t even see my playground anymore.
“Really?” I asked, rotating to face him. “What is it? This is a fucking Bugatti, that’s what.” I ran my fingers lightly and lovingly over the windowsill and tried not to breathe on the perfection I was wrapped in. “Do you know how jealous my brother’s gonna be that I rode in a BugattiLa Voitoire Noire?” Even saying the name aloud left me breathless.
He studied me, burning me with a gaze that took in every detail. From the messy bun on top of my head, down to the boots I’d thrown on with nothing more than comfort in mind.
I could sense it. The questions he didn’t ask. The reasoning for my knowledge about one of the most expensive vehicles in the world. All of it. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he bit his lip and shrugged. “It’s just a car, Rylie.”
Just a car my ass.
“Um-kay, rich boy. Whatever you say.” I shook my head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Anyway, where we headed? I’m assuming it has a bed? Let’s get this show on the road.”
“My place.” He started the engine, and the purr resonated deep inside me, silencing anything I may have said in response.
I’d always loved fast cars, especially foreign sports cars. This baby? Yeah, it was something I’d dreamt of every night since they announced its existence. When my brother deployed overseas, he got close to one. I couldn’t wait to tell him the way the leather conformed around my ass as I sat in the seat. The extravagance of the ride itself.
Roman pulled out of the parking lot and onto a deserted road, traveling a few miles before arriving back in the city. Even then it took only a few seconds. This car was built for speed, and Roman knew how to capitalize on its strengths. He weaved in and out of traffic, speeding down side roads, taking corners like it was on rails.
“So,” I said, because the silence was begging to be broken, “what else do you do for fun? Besides fighting.” I wanted this guy, and the mention of the fight only made me hotter.
Keeping his eyes trained on the road, a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “Fighting is my passion, yes.” He paused, then continued after a beat of silence. “I also rather enjoy fucking. Soon, I’ll be fucking you.” He grinned.
My breath hitched. Nothing about this man should’ve surprised me, but it probably shouldn’t have. What was this man doing to me? The attraction I couldn’t explain with more than the words “primal” and “carnal,” and I wanted him.
“Not soon enough,” was my short reply.
I was wound too tight to think of any other reply. His words, without so much as a touch, caused steady beats of pressure to thrum against my clit, and I had to squeeze my thighs together to keep from imploding with need. My head fell back against the seat as the city whipped past the window.
Watching him fight earlier had awoken something inside me that I hadn’t even known existed. A silent part of me stirred to life. The way his muscles shifted and pulled together as he anticipated every single move from his opponent in the ring—it destroyed my self-control.
Fuck. Are we there yet?
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him lick his lips. “Eager, are you?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “We’ll be there in a few.”
Shifting in my seat so that I almost leaned against the window, I focused what remained of my attention on his profile. He was still smirking. I decided to go big or go home. “Yeah, I am. The sooner I can get you naked, the better.” I licked my lips, mocking what he’d just done. “Hopefully inside me, too.”
Roman adjusted his cock, hard again, jutting against his fly, straining to be let out. “Oh, you thinkyou’regonna be in control? Not. Gonna. Happen.” He punctuated each word with a tap of his finger high on my thigh, and another flash of desire raced throughout my entire body as it flushed with heat.
We’ll see about that.
After what felt like an age (because he’d basically rendered me mute), we finally pulled up to what appeared more like a castle than any house I’d seen in a magazine or even imagined. Roman rolled down his window and punched in the code for the huge, wrought-iron gates. They had to be at least fifteen feet tall and a crest with an “H” in the center split as they slid apart, slowly disappearing into a mile-high concrete wall, providing the big reveal the house deserved. We drove up a winding path leading to a sprawling white, three-story mansion on a hill.
Shitballs.
The place was massive, and from what I could see, it boasted an immaculate landscape, with mature trees dotting the expansive front lawn. Roman parked in the circular driveway at the foot of the front steps, and I clamped my lips between my teeth to keep my mouth from falling open. What had I expected? I mean, he owned a fucking Bugatti, for fuck’s sake.
He stepped out and came around to the passenger door, pulling it open to help me out. Aww, chivalry wasn’t dead, after all.
“Thank you.” I took his hand as he walked beside me to the double-doored entrance. Although, the iron grip he had on my arm was likely to keep me from bolting rather than to be a gentleman.
When we walked in, it was just as I’d imagined a home like this to be—white marble flooring throughout a foyer as big as my entire apartment, a crystal chandelier as wide as my bed, hanging from what had to be at least a thirty-foot ceiling. A hardwood staircase centered the room, where it branched off on either side at the top. Places like this were for TV shows. Who lived like this?
