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“That’s not true, Rome. A marriage takes two people to make it work. And I don’t know why your mama left, but I’m sure it wasn’t because of something an innocent child did.”
He knew she was right, but deep down he couldn’t help believing there was something in him that was unlovable. Something that pushed women away. But he wasn’t about to tell Cloe that.
Yet, somehow, she knew.
She reached over the pillow and placed a hand on his arm. The gentle warmth of her fingers was more than just soothing. They made the knot of hurt he had carried around for so long feel less tight.
“It’s not your fault, Rome. You need to let that go.”
He didn’t remember falling asleep. When he woke it was to soft snoring, the scent of springtime, and a feeling of contentment. He opened his eyes to sunlight shining in through the cracks in the curtains, fanning his ceiling in rays of gold. He started to stretch like he did every morning when he realized his left arm was imprisoned. He looked down to see Cloe draped over his chest, her hair tickling his chin.
He wanted to blame her for encroaching on his side, but he was on her side, the pillow barrier at the foot of the bed. Not wanting her to wake up and find him there, he tried to carefully ease her off his chest so he could scoot over to his side before she woke up. But he only shifted her a few inches when she stopped snoring and hummed contentedly before snuggling closer to his chest, her lips brushing his nipple.
There had been no sexual thoughts last night. This morning, his brain and body made up for it. A mammoth wave of desire rolled thorough him, causing so much blood to rush to his cock he felt lightheaded. To make matters worse, she chose that moment to wake up.
She must have realized the situation they were in because she sucked in her breath and froze. She remained that way for a long moment before her hand moved. He thought she was preparing to slip away from him. Instead, her fingers caressed the hair on his chest.
He inhaled sharply and her head quickly lifted. He found himself looking into meadow-green eyes. Meadow-green eyes that held the same heat that coiled around him.
With a groan, he fisted his fingers in her loose braid and pulled her to his waiting lips. If there had been any kind of hesitation on her part, he might have been able to stop. But there wasn’t. As soon as their lips met, they melted into a frenzied dance of hot slides and tangled tongues. She shifted so she was fully on top of him, her hips undulating against his hard length. Any thought of keeping their relationship purely platonic evaporated. He wanted in those shamrock pajamas and he wanted in them now.
Still, his brain made one last weak effort.
“We should probably stop,” he whispered as he sucked on her plump bottom lip.
“Yes. We need to stop.” She kissed him again, her tongue playful and hot. He slipped his hand under her top, filling his palm with lush, warm breast. He stroked his thumb over a nipple so hard that it made him groan deep in his chest.
She pulled back from the kiss, her breath as harsh and uneven as his as her hips pumped restlessly. “We should really keep a firm boundary.”
“Firm.” He slipped his hands into her pajama bottoms, cupping her butt cheeks as he rubbed his straining erection against her.
A little choked sob came out of her mouth and she pressed closer. “Because—this—isn’t real.”
“Not real,” he echoed. But damn it felt real. More real than anything he had felt in a long time. He felt like he could come from just the friction they were creating. He wanted more. He needed more.
“Sit up,” he ordered.
She complied, straddling him with her hair wild around her shoulders. He feverishly undid the buttons of her pajama top, pushing back the edges to reveal her abundant breasts hanging like sweet fruit in the morning light.
He groaned as he filled his palms with each one and lifted them. Unable to resist the overflowing bounty, he raised his head and rained open-mouth kisses over the soft flesh before pulling one sweet crest into his mouth. She arched her back, her fingers scraping along his scalp before they fisted tightly in his hair.
“Rome.”
His name coming from her lips in that breathless tone made him twice as hard. He laved his tongue over her nipple wanting to hear her say it again and again. She didn’t, but her satisfied sighs and moans were just as good. He could have feasted on her breasts forever if one of her hands hadn’t found its way into his briefs. Just like with her massage, she wasn’t gentle. She fisted him firmly as she stroked him from base to moist tip.
He looked down. The sight of her long fingers with their neatly trimmed nails curled around his hard cock was about the hottest thing he’d ever seen. His breath left his lungs as he watched her fist-pump him.
But he didn’t want to lose it without her being right there with him.
He released her breasts and rolled her to her side. Slipping his hand into her pajama bottoms, his fingers easily finding her hot, wet folds. When he located the nub at the top of her clit, she sucked in her breath and her hand tightened on his cock. The closer she got to coming the tighter she held him. When she gasped out his name and climaxed, he covered her hand with his and pumped out his own.
The feeling of utopic satisfaction was quickly followed by the realization of what they’d done. Or more like what he’d done. He was the one who had removed the pillow. The one who hadn’t been able to resist kissing her.
The one who had completely obliterated the boundary he’d set.
Chapter Fifteen
It was easy to read the look of regret in Rome’s eyes.
