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The only light in my room was the lamp on the bedside table. The bed was messy from where I had recently climbed out of it.
I let go of Romero’s hand and quickly moved over to the bed to straighten out the mess. I set it to rights, fluffed the pillows, and pulled back the covers. It was just missing the fucking mints on the pillows, for shit’s sake.
When I turned back around, my breath hitched in my throat at the sight before me. While I had been making the bed, Romero had been making himself at home and comfortable in my space.
He’d dropped his bag off on the chair by the dresser. He’d also removed his T-shirt and unbraided his long red hair. It hung down in a straight sheet all the way to his hips.
Like with Isobel, I hoped he never cut his hair. I knew his hair was so incredibly long because he’d been imprisoned for so many years, and I didn’t know if it was a touchy subject for him or not, so I bit my tongue and didn’t tell him he wasn’t allowed to change it.
I didn’t think I had been like this with my wife, commanding and bossy. At least not that I remembered, but I had a hard time not thinking about her as being put up onto a golden pedestal in my mind. To me, she was and always would be my angel, and I didn’t like to think of myself being this way with her.
I thought that somewhere, along my nightmare journey to get here, I had changed drastically into the man I am today. Romero and Isobel seemed to like the man I was, but I wasn’t so sure either of them really knew what they were getting into with me.
I might have been playing some games, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t all in and playing for keeps here. I wanted to own not only Isobel’s heart, but Romero’s as well.
Finn could have his little piece of them as well, but he had no place in this bedroom with Romero and me.
I gestured toward the partially closed door closest to us. “Bathroom’s through there if you need it for anything.”
“Which side of the bed do you want to sleep on?”
I slid under the covers on the side closest to the lamp instead of answering him. He’d learn in time that I didn’t give a shit what side of the bed I slept on and never would. I was used to sleeping alone and had recently learned from the few times I had allowed myself to sleep in Isobel’s bed that the side of the bed didn’t matter, what mattered was the person sleeping in that bed beside you.
Romero shuffled around to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers beside me. I reached over and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into semidarkness. Light still shone into the room through the window from the moon.
I rolled over onto my side to face him and he copied me, doing the same.
Silence stretched between us as we both stared into each other’s eyes. The connection between the two of us was there, almost like a living thing sparking back and forth from him to me and back again.
I didn’t want to rush this with him and potentially fuck everything up. With Isobel, it was different because I knew about my feelings for her for so long, and even though I had refused to acknowledge them, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been aware of their existence. With Romero, he came out of nowhere, and my feelings for him were still very new and intense.
I thought it was smart to take our relationship slow so we could really build a solid foundation that could never crumble.
As Romero inched closer and closer to me until our fronts were almost touching, I realized slow was not what Romero had in mind at all. His eyes shone brightly with lust and need, and I knew I was screwed unless I went and slept on the couch. I had a feeling that if I got up to go sleep in the other room, he’d just follow me out there.
“Romero—”
“Kiss me, Rain,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I’m tired of waiting, and I’m beyond needy. It’s been so many years since I’ve been touched in any way out of love instead of hate that I don’t even know what it feels like. I’m starving. Please, don’t tell me no.”
Christ. He was fucking killing me, and any intentions I had of telling him no or taking things slowly died a sudden death. There was no way I could even think about telling him no after that heartbreaking statement.
But I wasn’t going to fuck him tonight. I had to draw the line somewhere. I’d give him enough love to tide him over, but he was going to have to wait for me to give him my cock. I wanted the next step to be special. I wasn’t going to take that away from either of us because he was so fucking needy.
I gave him what he had practically been begging for, and I kissed him. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, and I wasn’t gentle when I pressed my lips to his.
He groaned as he kissed me back with as much force as I was kissing him. He reached for me and greedily ran his hands up my abs and over my pecs. His fingernails scraped across my nipples before his hands slid back down.
Fuck. I lost myself in the kiss as he ran his hands over as much of my skin as he could reach. Romero hadn’t been the only one who hadn’t been touched in a very long time.
My body responded immediately, and my cock hardened. He felt it since our hips were pressed together, and the noise he made was so hungry and so fucking hot that my cock twitched.
Of course he felt that too.
And, of course, because he was absolutely greedy, he went for it.
His hand slid down my abs, and I didn’t know how he pulled it off, but he managed to smoothly dip his hand under the waistband of my pajama pants. His fingers wrapped around my cock, and he squeezed.
Holy fuck, that felt good. Way too good.
