I wake in stages as if fighting my way to the surface. Something feels off, but my mind can’t figure out what. I stretch my hand out next to me coming away with nothing but air.
Which is the precise moment when everything from last night crashes into my brain with the force of a tsunami.
Roman.
The bathroom at Covet.
Him waiting in my living room.
Both of us needing more.
I don’t remember how many times we sated our hunger for one another. He woke me three or four times during the night. It was, in a word, delicious. So much better than any of my fantasies.
My eyelids flutter open.
Before I let the regret for making such a huge mistake swallow me whole, I allow myself a few moments to revel in every amazing moment that occurred between us.
Maybe I’m naïve, but I never imagined sex could be so explosive.
Or hot.
Or dirty.
Exhausted from the long night, I arch my naked body until every muscle has been lengthened and stretched. My hair is a wild, tangled mess spread across the snowy white pillowcase. I pick up a long lock and twirl it around a finger, recalling the way Roman wrapped it around his hand. A stab of desire arrows through me and settles like a heavy stone in my core. It hasn’t been but a few hours since he was inside my body and I still want more.
With a deep sigh, I sit up. The sheet falls and pools at my waist.
My gaze meets his, and I gasp, caught off guard by the dark, brooding eyes fixed on mine. My heart skips a beat as arousal floods me. Desire follows quickly on its heels. My core dampens, and I marvel at my visceral reaction to him. Roman has always had a strong effect on me.
But now it’s much more intense because I know what he’s capable of. I’m tempted to hold out a hand and beckon him to me. I don’t want this interlude to end yet.
Already dressed, Roman sits on a chair in the corner of the room with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. The passionate man who made me scream his name multiple times last night is gone, replaced by an impassive one who’s ready to leave.
In a desperate bid to stop the inevitable, I say, “Come back to bed.”
Roman’s gaze shifts to my bare breasts and lingers for a beat. He shakes his head and runs a hand over his hair. Looking me straight in the eyes, he says in a clipped tone, “Last night was a mistake. I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen,”
Even though I suspected this would happen, his dismissive words still sting. “But it did.”
He shrugs. “I knew it was a fucked-up idea when I was doing it.”
Fucked-up.
He thinks what happened between us is fucked-up.
I shiver as the cool air in the room swirls around me, realizing how exposed I am. Closing my fingers around the sheet, I yank it up to cover myself.
I’m an idiot for thinking we could hold reality at bay for just a bit longer.
I don’t understand why he bothered sticking around this morning. If he’d snuck out at the crack of dawn, I would have gotten the point just the same.
“Then why did you?” Anguish pounds through me as I force myself to hold his gaze.
He drops his eyes, staring down at his clenched fists. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does. What happened last night shouldn’t have. My control slipped. That’s all.”
“That’s all,” I echo in disbelief.
“You have to know that there can never be anything between us.”
I latch on to his words because the reason for his past treatment of me hinges upon this rationale. “Why do you say that?”
He remains stubbornly silent.
My breath wedges in my lungs. More than anything, I need to understand why he acts the way he does.
He lifts his eyes. Emotion he normally hides behind a mask of indifference churns in them.
I sit up a little straighter, feeling as though I’m on the cusp of a significant discovery. I want him to let me in. Just a little. I want to understand what’s happening in his head.
“Because that’s the way it has to be, princess,” he says firmly.
My heart twists painfully under my breast, because the nickname that usually grates on my nerves sounds like an endearment. In the past, he’s used it as an insult.
I shake my head and climb from the bed, tightening the sheet. I don’t understand his answer. And since he refuses to elaborate, I have no choice but to push him.
Roman averts his eyes as I approach him. A muscle ticks in his jaw. He looks edgy, as if he could spring into action any second.
“Roman,” I whisper, “look at me.”
I’ve never known him to be a coward.
When he continues to avoid eye contact, I sink to my knees and raise my hand, cradling his shadowed cheek. “Explain to me why we can’t be together.” I pause, hoping he’ll say something, but he doesn’t. “Does this have anything to do with my father?” I press, grasping at straws. “Is he the reason?”
His gaze rises and locks on mine. “It has nothing to do with your father.”
Hope dissolves. Papa would’ve been an easy obstacle to overcome. “Then what is it?” I swallow down the nausea roiling in the pit of my belly as a thought pops into my head and choke out, “Is there someone else?”
In the time Roman has worked for my father, I’ve never heard anything mentioned about a woman in his life. He could be married with kids for all I know.
“There’s no one else,” he mutters. “It would be so much easier if that were the case.”
My tongue darts out to moisten my dry lips. “Then what? I don’t understand.”
His dark eyes lose all traces of emotion as he stares at me. Through me. He peels my fingers from his face and drops them. “I’ll never be the guy you want me to be. Nor do I have any interest. It’s as simple as that.”
I wince at the harshness bleeding through his voice.
He tilts his head to the side and snickers. “Did you think this was the start of something beautiful? That we would ride off into the sunset together?”
He shakes his head when I don’t reply, an ugly smirk twisting his lips. “Come on, you know better than that,” he says in a patronizing tone.
I want to argue but can’t think of anything to say.
Is that what I thought?
I don’t know.
Maybe it was. Maybe I still clung to a speck of hope that things would be different between us.
“Look, do I need to spell it out for you?” Roman snaps. “There is no you and me, princess. There isn’t an us. There never was, and there never will be. We spent a few hours screwing. That’s all it was.” He sneers, his teeth flashing against his olive skin. “I needed a fuck, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He reaches over and strokes the side of my jaw. “Although, I’m not going to lie, the sex was phenomenal. I knew you would be an amazing fuck.”
Instinct takes over, and I jerk away. My hand slices through the air, the palm connecting with his stubble-roughened cheek. A loud crack rings through the room. Fury bubbles up, and I shake with anger. “Get out!”
He remains seated, fingering the red mark flaring to life across his cheek.
“Get out now!” I scream again, blinking back tears. I don’t want him to see me cry. I’ve already let the asshole see too much, and he doesn’t deserve any more.
Roman rises to his feet, his dark gaze softening. He opens his mouth as if to say something but thinks better of it. His expression hardens, and he nods in acceptance. He strides out of the room without a backward glance.
The tears burning the backs of my eyelids fall right after the front door closes. Feeling raw and angry with myself, I drop the sheet and head to the bathroom. I reach into the shower and turn the handle all the way to hot so I can scrub every trace of last night from my skin.
I want to wash away the memories, too, if possible.
Because I can’t continue living this way.
I can’t continue lusting after a man who only wants to hurt me.