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“The real for last,” he says, and I don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice. Slow speech and all from all the adult beverages he’s consumed. “Come here, kid. I’m feeling left out.”
Roman tenses, but after one more gentle squeeze, his arms fall away, and I stand freely. I don’t turn to glance at him over my shoulder. I won’t be able to hide the longing I feel for him. I just want to stay on his lap, wrapped up in his arms.
“The birthday girl!” Forrest yells, entirely too loudly. He taps his lap, and I can’t protest because I just did the same thing with Roman. I perch myself on his lap and he gives me one of his big-brother bear hugs. “How dare they steal my big brother thunder,” he grumbles.
I pat him on the shoulder and chuckle. “You were the first,” I tell him.
“Damn right. Hear that, boys? I was the first. I hold the big brother title.” Forrest thrusts his hand in the air, the same hand that’s holding his can of beer, and it spills all over both of us. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Em.”
I laugh and shake my head. “It’s fine, Forrest. Just a little beer. I’m going to run inside and change. Does anyone need anything?” I ask, standing from his lap.
“Can you bring me a hoodie or something?” Monroe asks.
“Sure, Lyra? Lisa?” I ask the other ladies.
“No, thank you,” they reply in unison.
“There’s a hoodie in my truck,” Legend tells Monroe. “It’s on the passenger seat.”
“Do you mind?” she asks him.
“Nah. Come on. I’ll go with you to get it.” He holds his hand out for her, and waits for her to stand and join him. She takes his hand and, together, with a little bit of wobble in their steps, they head to his truck that’s parked right next to the house to grab Monroe a hoodie.
In my room, I pull my soaked T-shirt off as I make my way to my en suite bathroom and toss it over the sink. Grabbing a washcloth, I run it under some warm water and wash the sticky beer from my skin. Luckily, it wasn’t enough to soak my bra, but somehow it still smells like beer. Reaching behind my back, I unclasp it and leave it lying over the sink with my soiled T-shirt before turning off the light.
I gasp when I see Roman sitting on my bed. He has the sketchbook and the huge art set of pencils and markers that he and the guys gave me earlier for my birthday in his hands. I know the art set wasn’t cheap, and they gave me three huge sketchbooks. They all know I love to doodle, and word finally spread about the lily tattoo Roman did for me.
“What are you doing in here?” My eyes flash to the door that’s now securely closed.
“It’s locked,” he explains.
“What if they come looking for you?”
He shrugs. “Told them I had to shit. I shut the bathroom door and turned on the fan just in case.” He grins as he stands and walks toward me. “I wanted a few minutes with you.” He stops when we’re toe to toe. He cups my breasts, one in each hand, as if he’s testing their weight. His thumbs glide over my nipples that are already hardened peaks, longing for more of his touch.
“Rome.”
His eyes that were locked on my chest snap to mine. “Hold on tight, baby girl.” That’s the notice I get before he bends, grabs the backs of my thighs, and lifts me into the air. I lock my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, trying to hold in my squeal of surprise and delight at being in his arms.
He walks until my back hits the wall. “I need you to scoot up.”
“Scoot up?”
“Rest your back against the wall, and I’ll take care of the rest. Hold on to my head or my shoulders whatever you need to do, but trust me, I got you.”
I ask no more questions, because I do trust him. This is dangerous as hell, but also so fucking hot that he needed me enough to sneak into my room while everyone is still downstairs.
I rest my back firmly against the wall, and just as he said, he lifts me so that my breasts are eye level for him. I bury my hands in his hair, because it’s one of my favorite things to do. I like the way it feels to be tethered to him.
He tilts his head back and smirks. I’m usually the one looking up, so it’s weird for our roles to be reversed. “We don’t have much time, and we’re not leaving here until you come for me.” He pulls a nipple into his mouth and nips gently before sucking hard, and I moan at the pleasure of it.
“Shh, baby girl, as much as I love to hear you, you’re going to have to be quiet. Cover your mouth if you have to.”
I nod and place one hand over my mouth, while the other grips the back of his neck, holding him to my breast, because I don’t want him to stop.
“You’re always so responsive for me.” He moves to the other breast, doing much of the same, nipping softly and then sucking hard, all while he’s rolling the opposite nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He has one hand draped under me, holding me up, and the other is working its magic on getting me off.
I don’t reply, and I’m pretty sure he’s not expecting an answer. Instead, I close my eyes and just feel. His mouth is fucking my breasts. I don’t know of another way to describe it. His hand that’s holding me up slides beneath my shorts, and one long thick digit slips inside me.
