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Teaching Roman (Good Girls Don't Book 2) by Geneva Lee (12)

Chapter Twelve

Orange and rose hues streaked across the sky as I searched for an excuse to leave the villa. The plan was to meet Roman down the beach, but I hadn’t been able to figure out how to ditch Cassie. Plus, it felt wrong leaving her behind so I could get some action. I was about to give up when she jumped off the couch.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she announced. “I smell like sand and tequila.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” I tried to keep my tone even, but it pitched up on the last word.

Cassie stared at me for a minute before shaking her head. For a second I thought she’d seen through my casual act. But if she did, she was letting it slide. For now. “After that shower, I’m going to crawl into bed and watch sad movies and cry until my liver is detoxed. Want to join me?”

“While that sounds fun,” I said trying to keep a sympathetic look on my face while my insides were doing a happy dance, “I want to read.”

“Will you stop with the studying already?” She heaved a sigh that sounded a lot like exasperation. If only she knew the truth.

“Not what you think.” I waved a novel as my white flag. I was surrendering to the siren call of Mexico. She just didn’t need to know all the details. “I’m going to read for fun.”

Her eyes narrowed, trying to zoom in on the title, but I tossed it into the chair before she could. The novel was a decoy book I’d been using for years. Whenever my friends called me out for studying too much, I held it up and begged out of spontaneous girls’ nights to read a book “for fun.”

“Weren’t you reading that a few weeks ago?” Cassie asked.

Busted.

I shook my head. “Never finished it, so vacation is the perfect time. I’m dying to find out what happens. “

Actually, I was dying to get my hands on Roman. Part of me wondered if I should just come clean. Rip off the proverbial bandaid and tell her what was happening. The rest of me was certain that I couldn’t risk her finding out about us though. First of all, she’d never let it go, but more importantly, she’d also asked me here for moral support as she healed from a break-up. I didn’t need to rub her nose in any fling—Cassie-approved or not. Then there was the less than logical reason—the one I didn’t want to fess up to even to my conscience. It was a little more fun keeping it a secret. I shoved the shameful thought down, but it didn’t make it less true. Sneaking around with Roman was a poor life decision—and after last night, I realized I hadn’t made enough of those in my lifetime. I wanted to make another bad choice. Maybe a couple if he wasn’t too tired.

“If you finish, I’ll be in bed.” She dropped her voice and fluttered her eyes. “You can always join me.”

I pushed her toward her room. Pulling out my best businesslike tone, I ordered her off. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go grab a shower. You’ll feel better.”

“I know you always do after a shower.” Cassie stuck her tongue out at me before she disappeared into her bedroom. I was never going to live that particularly embarrassing moment down. Thank god best friend code dictated no nude photography or she’d have Instagrammed it.

I was out the door before the water turned on.

The warm air wrapped around me like a blanket, even the breeze was muggy. I loved it. Maybe I could get used to life like this. Sunsets on the beach and warm sand under my feet. Still, I kept my distance from the waves lapping on the shoreline. It would be a little pathetic to live on the ocean and be afraid of water. I was feeling a little reckless, but not stupid. Technically, I could swim. I’d had lessons. I just really, really didn’t like it. I could handle a nice, shallow pool fine. The ocean was another story. I didn’t like water in my eyes. I didn’t like not being able to touch the bottom. I didn’t like the feeling of things brushing past my legs. So maybe a resort town on the ocean wasn’t for me.

I didn’t have to think about the many dangers of the ocean for long. I spotted Roman ahead of me, sitting in the sand, close enough to the water that the tide washed over his feet. His white linen shirt hung unbuttoned over his cargo shorts, displaying his glorious, sun kissed chest. His jaw sported the same sexy scruff that had scratched along my thighs last night, but his grab-on-and-ride hair was hidden under a straw fedora. With his dark good looks he didn’t blend in like a local or pass for a tourist. He looked like he owned the place and judging from the pulse building between my legs, he owned me—for tonight. For a week. I checked off day two on my internal calendar and tried not to think about what happened when that week was over.

Roman’s head swiveled in my direction and a slow smile slid onto his lips. I bit my own as a dozen fantasies danced through my head. I’d spent the day feeling like I was dreaming, but here he was and I didn’t have to touch him to know he was flesh and blood. He was as real as my own racing heart and heated skin. I wanted to call it a purely physiological reaction—two heterosexuals experiencing the chemical process of attraction—but last night’s memories certainly contributed. He patted the sand next to him.

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. Not even Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy could get me that close to the water.

“Afraid you won’t be able to resist my charms, mi bella?”

Oh, I already knew that was a lost cause. My panties were practically dropping themselves. No, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for my hesitation. “I don’t like the ocean.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Maybe Puerto Vallarta wasn’t the best vacation choice for you.”

He could not have been more wrong. Puerto Vallarta was the perfect getaway spot. It was where he was.

“You know I didn’t choose where we went,” I pointed out. He didn’t need to know how I really felt. I was thinking with my girlie bits, after all.

“And still I’m glad you wound up here,” he admitted, “even if you’re afraid of the ocean.”

“That’s not it. I mean, I like the ocean. I just don’t like touching it.” Judging from the look on his face, that wasn’t a better explanation. How could I explain that something so beautiful and serene was my own personal nightmare? “I’m not what you’d call a strong swimmer.”

Roman stood and brushed wet sand from his shorts. “I’ll teach you how to swim.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. There was very little chance of him talking me into a swimsuit let alone the actual water. Of course, I’d said the same thing about going to bed with him. Maybe it was time I took up gambling, the odds seemed to have shifted in favor of the improbable lately.

“Don’t you trust me?” He stalked toward me.

I backed up a few steps, shaking my head, as a familiar sense of panic began racing through me. I’d seen this look before on other guys’ faces. It was the one they wore right before they threw me into a pool or a lake. Half the reason that I loved the Pacific Northwest was that it was usually too cold or too rainy to swim. Roman wasn’t a boy though. He was a man—six-feet-some-odd-inches of man at that. There was no way he’d toss me in the water. “I trust you. I don’t trust the undertow.”

“I won’t let it pull you under.” His eyes smoldered as he spoke, his usually faint accent deepening with a sexy roll of his tongue.

Why was I afraid of the ocean? I was already drowning.

I was so caught up in his eyes that I didn’t have time to react when he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. I giggled as I struggled against his hold—until he ran into the ocean. So much for trusting him. Water splashed across my bare legs and my arms tightened into a vice grip around his neck.

“What the hell?” I shrieked. Why did guys always want women to be damsels in distress?

“You’re standing in the ocean, Jessica…and you’re alive.” Judging from the choked tone of his voice, he wouldn’t be much longer. If he died, we were both going in the water.

“Put me down!” I smacked his back, wiggling in panic in his arms.

“Are you sure about that?” Roman loosened his grip on me, allowing me to slide a few inches closer to my doom, and I realized what I was asking.

“On second thought, don’t.”

“Relax.” It was more of an order than a suggestion and part of my body obeyed, melting against him. “I have you.”

“That’s easier said than done. You can swim,” I accused, equally frustrated with the situation and my body’s involuntary reactions to his presence. Roman Markson’s mere existence could not be enough to erase a lifelong phobia. So why did I feel more safe with each second he held me in his arms?

“Cierra los ojos y aferrate a mi mientras que el mundo se nos escapa,” he said in a low voice that I had to strain to hear over the waves.

I had no idea what he was saying but the huskiness of his voice sent a shiver tingling up my spine. “My Spanish isn’t that good.”

“It’s a poem I’m working on. Do you want to hear it or do you want to accidentally drown yourself trying to escape?”

“What’s it about?” I asked, giving in to curiosity but keeping my arms pinned around his neck for safe measure.

“You.” His hands slid lower until he was cupping my ass. My body slid along his until our hearts were in perfect alignment. I wondered if he could feel mine beating like a wild bird that wanted free of its cage.

“What does it mean?” I asked. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered the spray of the ocean on my toes, but I ignored it. His eyes met mine and the electricity of our connection sizzled in the air between us. I wanted to lean forward and close the distance but I clung to my last shreds of patience.

“It means close your eyes and hold on to me as the world slips away.” His hands shifted, lowering me to my feet, but never leaving my body.

Right then, I didn’t care that I was ankle deep in the ocean or that I could hardly swim. There was no fear. There was only Roman and all I wanted was to slip away with him. “Get me out of this water.”

My words weren’t panicked or commanding, but they were a plea. He seemed to know what I was thinking and this time when he scooped me off my feet, I didn’t protest as he carried me back toward my villa.

At the door, I slipped out of his arms and peeked inside. The lights were off inside and there was no sign of Cassie who was probably already watching television in her bed.

“Coast is clear,” I breathed. It was all the invitation he needed.

Roman’s lips slanted over mine, capturing my mouth. As the kiss deepened, I knocked his hat off, seizing his hair, and then I was in his arms. We crashed into the doorframe so hard that I knew I’d have a bruise along my tailbone tomorrow. Right now, I didn’t care. All I could think about was one thing: Get. Roman’s. Shirt. Off. As soon as my fingers slipped it over his shoulders, I sighed against his lips. My hands traveled over the coiled muscles, flexed from holding me against the wall, and another surge of desire shot through me. Roman should be studied. Clearly, he’d achieved a biological superiority that probably single-handedly proved the theory of evolution, since simply touching his body could reduce a well-educated, feminist, pre-med student into a shirt-clawing, hip-bucking sex kitten.

Roman held me steady with one arm around my waist, my legs wrapped loosely against his trim hips, as his free hand shoved my sundress up. Our mouths tangled together along with our limbs as we sought to free ourselves of our extraneous clothes. Finally, I pulled away and shook my head. “I need you naked. Now.”

In a flash I was on my feet and Roman was kicking off his shorts. I hooked my thumbs into my panties and stripped them off. He was on me instantly, spinning me toward the wall as his arm snaked around my bare torso. Bracing myself against the doorframe, I gasped as he slid inside me, but the sound morphed into a throaty moan as his teeth bit into my shoulder.

I wanted to rake my fingernails across his back and sink my teeth into his pecs, but he held me steady as he whispered things that would have made Jess blush.

Jessica liked it.

A lot.

His hand slid lower, urging me along with him until fireworks. They exploded across my tightly clenched eyes. I felt them flash across my skin and burst through my limbs. It was a downright applause worthy orgasm.

Which is why it took me a few seconds to register that the clapping coming from somewhere in the near distance was actually not all that distant—and not at all in my head.

I could see the smug, self-satisfied grin Cassie was wearing before I turned to find her dark eyes trained on us. They twinkled mischievously even in the dim light of the not-actually-deserted villa. “If you two are going to fuck like bunnies, you should shut your door.”

Cassie had finally given advice worth taking.

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