Page 5 of Devoured


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My insides go cold as I let my words fall off, but she gets it. I haven’t been home since my ex up and left weeks before my wedding. It’s been two years, and my sisters still call to check on me—far too much. I tell them I’m fine, and I am, yet they remain intrusive, overbearing, and are always butting into my life—which is why I’m better off in New York where they can’t stalk me on a daily basis.

I love them. I truly do, but I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions. I scoff at that. I’m not even sure getting engaged had been my idea to begin with. One day I’m dating and the next there was talk of a wedding, and I’m pretty sure it was my mother who put Grandmother’s ring on my ex’s finger—not that it stayed there for any length of time.

“Roman, I’m sorry,” she says, her voice thick and sincere. “I don’t think I ever told you that.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my knee. Her touch sizzles through my body and caresses my cock. I glance down, and suddenly, as if she just realized she was touching me, she snatches her hand back like I might have just given her leprosy. She links her fingers together on her lap.

“Thank you,” I say, a canned response even though I do appreciate her words. “It’s fine.” Her brows lift, her expression dubious, but the truth is, it’s not like my ex broke my heart. When she refused to sign the prenup, it confirmed my suspicions. The women in my life want my name and my money; they don’t necessarily want me.

“You’ll be visiting them?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I fib. Hell, I haven’t even told them I’m going to Malta. They’d invade our villa within minutes, before we could even unpack. They’d shower Peyton with love, hugs and kisses, and completely smother us both. “But my main reason for this is to help you get the position. I won’t let anything interfere with that.”

She gives a slow shake of her head. “I’m just not sure you can pull this off,” she says, like she’s still looking for a way out of this insane arrangement her brother cooked up.

“I can pull it off,” I say.

She crinkles up her nose, scrunching the cluster of freckles that have been holding me captive since she grew into a beautiful woman. “You literally just flinched when I touched you.”

I give a casual shrug. “You took me by surprise.”

“What if I touch you in public? If you react like that people will know we’re pretending. We have to present a happy, loving couple.” She pushes back into her seat and lets loose a frus

trated sigh. Her head falls back, her eyes unfocused on the overhead lighting. “They say the marriage restriction in hiring single female teachers has been lifted, but behind the scenes it’s still practiced.” The frustration in her voice is palpable and wraps around my chest like a tight belt. “They won’t hire an unwed woman, Roman,” she adds, her frown deepening.

I lean toward her, my stomach on fire at the unfairness in the world. She wants this job, and goddammit I’ll help her burst through that glass ceiling and do whatever it takes for her to get it. No one, and I mean no one, deserves to have their dreams realized more than this woman does.

“That’s not fair,” I say, my tone just dark enough to have her gaze flying to mine. What, is she surprised that I agree with her?

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“You should get the job on your own merit,” I say. “You’re smart, one of the smartest women I know. You’re dedicated, and kind, and let me tell you, I’ve never met any woman wanting to give back to a society that was so cruel to her. If they can’t see your value, that’s on them.” She goes quiet, so quiet worry weaves its way through my body. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt when reminding her of her past. “Peyton?”

She blinks, the sound of her swallowing breaking the silence. “Thank you.”

I wave my finger back and forth between the two of us. “As for you touching me and me not flinching, I guess we’ll have to practice,” I say.

“Are you suggesting...” Mimicking my motion, she waves her hand back and forth, her words falling off as her dark lashes fall slowly over alarmed eyes.

“What I’m saying is we’ll have to figure out a way not to react when touching each other.” Not going to happen. “What did you think I was saying?”

“That.” She nods. “That’s what I thought you were suggesting. How do we go about that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“We’d better figure it out, don’t you think? Tomorrow we’ll be meeting my boss and the other teachers and the person I’m in competition with for the full-time position.”

As she rambles, I study her mouth. The woman is sweet and sexy and so goddamn lush, but her never-ending questions and underlying accusations make me want to tie her up and busy her mouth in many other ways. Dirty ways. Delicious ways. Ways that would undoubtedly shock this sweet, young girl and have her pleading for mercy.

Seriously, you wouldn’t believe what I’d do, the lengths I’d go to, to see those lush red lips parted, begging me for...anything. It’s almost frightening and I have to fight it down with every fiber of my being. I redirect my thoughts to get my damn erection under control. Once my dick is marshalled into submission, I stand and reach over her head.

She flinches and presses herself into the leather seat. “What are you doing?” she asks. But holy Jesus I don’t miss the breathlessness in her voice or the way her skin flushed from my closeness. Yeah, okay, it’s true, the pull between us is insane, like so far off the charts, it’s a nuclear explosion waiting to happen.

But it’s not going to happen.

Cason didn’t just take me under his wing in college. He’s my best friend, the guy who had my back all through college, the guy who took a chance and hired me for a crucial position in his fledgling company and he was there to pick up the pieces when I finally faced the fact that women don’t want me for me, they want to marry into my family. Honesty is important and my ex’s betrayal gutted me.

Hypocrite much?

Okay, yeah, it’s true. I screwed up with Peyton last summer. I can blame it on the romantic atmosphere, the consumption of champagne, and if I try really hard, I can blame it on heartbreak. But the simple truth is this: I wanted Peyton. I wanted her like a drowning man wants a life raft, a thirsty man wants a drink, peanut butter wants jelly.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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