Page 27 of Devoured


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This is just sex, Peyton.

“Where?”

He leads me into the kitchen, and on the counter I see every kind of allergy medication known to mankind. “What did you do?”

He gives a casual shrug, like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing to me. “I didn’t know what kind you took.”

I pick up box after box after box. “You have enough here to obliterate allergies from mankind.”

“Just need to obliterate them from you,” he says.

My heart thumps, my insides going to mush.

It’s just sex, Peyton.

Why then, when he does stuff like this, does it feel like so much more?

“Roman,” I say. I’m so touched by his thoughtfulness, it’s hard to push the words out.

“I told you I was committed, Peyton. You’re going to get this job and you’re not going to be taken out by allergies.”

I fight a stupid tear and my chaotic emotions scramble in all directions, every sentiment I’ve locked up over the years trying to crawl over the jagged-edged wall I erected early on in life. But there are too many moving parts, racing at a speed I’m not accustomed to, scattering before I can lasso them back in. I swallow, a silly attempt to rein them all in, but I can’t let him see how much his random act of kindness has touched me or have him thinking I’m going to fall for him because of one thoughtful gesture.

Oh, but it’s been more than one, Peyton.

“It’s just...”

He puts his hand around my neck and spreads his fingers, lust once again returning to his eyes. “Maybe I had ulterior motives,” he says, bringing this back to what’s really between us—sex—and I’m grateful for that. No need to mistake the physical for the emotional. A person can attend to your basic needs—shelter, food, water...allergy medication—but that doesn’t mean they care deeply about you. A lesson learned at a young age taught me that, and I’m not about to forget it now. I can’t.

“Ulterior motives, huh?” I pop a pill from a bubble pack as he pours me a glass of water.

“Maybe I need you healthy so we can experiment more, see what else you hate—or what you like.” I grin. This morning I put all my best efforts forth to seduce this man, but now that we’ve broken the seal—or rather removed our clothes and gone at each other like wild animals during mating season—this man is all in. He hands me the glass and I take the pill. I swipe my tongue over my lip, and much as I expected, a small moan escapes his throat.

“What was that you said about filling your empty mouth?” I ask, and arch a brow.

His grin is crooked. “I believe that is what you said.”

I feign innocence and back up toward the stairs. “Me? I can’t believe you would accuse me of saying something like that, Roman.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls when I reach the stairs.

“I don’t think I should be around anyone who would accuse me of saying something so...dirty.”

“Get back here, Peyton.”

I rush up the steps and his footsteps pound on the kitchen floor.

I glance over my shoulder. “Not until you tell the truth.”

“Peyton,” he says, his warning voice churning with passion.

“Admit it was you who said it.”

“Calling me a liar, are you?” he grumbles, his deep, thick voice curling through me and teasing the needy little cleft aching for his attention.

“If the name fits.”

As his long legs carry him up the stairs fast, and he begins to close the gap, I bypass the bedrooms and go straight for the rooftop. He’s hot on my heels and I can’t stop laughing when I reach the top step, kicking my shoes off and tearing at my dress the whole way. I’m in nothing but my bra and panties when I reach the pool, and without bothering to remove them I dive in.

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