CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MILA HAD BEEN about to ask Roman what was wrong. And something was indeed wrong. She could see it on his face.
She felt it in his kiss.
At least for a couple of seconds, anyway. It was hard to feel anything but pleasure when Roman was kissing her.
He backed her inside, kicking the door shut with his foot, and he turned, pinning her against the wall. The kiss continued, raging on as if there were some fierce battle going on inside him.
“Are you okay?” she finally managed to say when he broke for air.
“Lick had pussies on his shorts, and I punched him.”
Mila didn’t have time to react to that, though she was surprised. Not that Lick was a guy who deserved punching but because she didn’t know what the other thing meant. She hoped Lick hadn’t smelled of sex while Tate was there. If so, Roman had obviously handled it.
And now she was getting the aftermath of that.
Mila decided just to ride this incredible wave and then she’d sort it all out later. Not that Roman gave her much of a choice about that. He kept kissing her, kept pressing his body against hers, until Mila thought she might be melting. She didn’t care if she did. She just wanted Roman to fix this fire that he had started inside her.
He did. Without breaking the kiss, he scooped her up and headed to her bedroom. Or rather the guest bedroom since it was first off the hall. He carried her inside, dropped her on the bed and in the same motion he yanked off his shirt.
That distracted her for a moment. His body could always do that to her. And it was obvious things were going to move pretty fast. She didn’t mind, but Mila took a moment to touch those toned muscles on his stomach while he was unzipping her jeans. As he’d done in the bookstore, he peeled them off her, rid her of her top and went after his own zipper.
She helped with that and saw the scar from his surgery. It’d healed from the looks of it, but she wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt himself with this anger sex.
Anger sex, she mentally repeated. Then smiled.
Mila had always suspected that sex with Roman would be intense, and this was off to a good intensive start. That start got better when he pulled off his boots, jeans and boxers.
Oh, my.
Someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. There wasn’t a drop left in her lungs, and she couldn’t speak. Turned out, though, that speaking really wasn’t necessary.
Roman took a condom from his jeans pocket, but he didn’t put it on. Instead, he put his knee on the bed, the mattress dipping down with his weight and sending him forward. On top of her. He kissed her again, dragging off her bra and panties.
Touching her.
While he kept up those wildfire kisses, he played with a new fire source. Her breasts. Many, many kisses there. He circled her nipple with his tongue and took her into his mouth. Then he located yet another fire source.
Between her legs.
She’d known he could do magic things with his mouth there, but his fingers were equally clever. Maybe too much so. Because for a moment Mila thought he was going to finish her off right there. She didn’t want that and maybe managed to make a protesting sound.
Roman listened because he tore open the condom, put it on and pinned one of her hands to the bed.
“Slap me if I hurt you,” he said.
The offer surprised her, much as his greeting had done at the door, and with that sound of surprise shaping her mouth, Mila lost her virginity to the only man she’d ever wanted to have it.
There was no pain. At least, she didn’t think there was. It was hard to tell because she went flying to a place where there was only pleasure. The delicious pressure of him inside her, filling her. And then he was moving.
She liked the moving part best.
There was a rhythm to it. A frenzy, too. And the need. The need was growing with each of those moves. He didn’t stop with the kissing and touching, either. Roman managed to connect with her mouth, and he reached between them to touch her in the very spot that would cause her to climax. Of course, she doubted that she would need his fingers when she had something much bigger and better suited for climax-giving.
This was so much better than oral sex or the orgasm in high school with her clothes on. Roman thrust inside, and each time sent those gold sparkles exploding all around her.
He wasn’t especially gentle.
She would thank him for that later. Because he wasn’t treating her like a virgin who’d been waiting her whole life for him. He was treating her like his lover. She decided to treat him like a lover, too, and not just lie there and moan while he gave her all this pleasure.
She kissed him, lifted her hips. In theory it was a good idea, but at that moment he pushed into her again, catching that “right place” just right.
“There you go,” Roman said, his voice all low and dripping with sex.
And there she went.
Though she wasn’t sure how he knew it was about to happen. But it did. The sparkles multiplied times a billion and then shattered. Mila felt herself shatter, too.
Roman gathered her in his arms, buried his face in her neck, and one thrust later, he shattered right along with her.
* * *
TWO TIMES.
Those were the words going through his head. Roman couldn’t pretend that the first time didn’t count, either. They hadn’t actually had sex, but he’d gotten Mila naked. Naked plus climax counted. Now, though, he’d crossed the sexual Rubicon because he’d taken her virginity. Perhaps hurt her, as well, so Roman lifted his head to look at her and make sure she was all right.
Oh, no.
That was more than an “I’m just all right” look on her face. Her lids were lowered halfway. Her facial muscles were slack. And she was smiling. That definitely wasn’t the expression of someone who knew there could be only one more time—at most—for them to have sex.
Mila located his mouth, kissed him and then fully opened her eyes. “Oh, no,” she said, making him wonder if she was just repeating what he’d said in his head. But unless she had ESP, she didn’t know that had been his reaction.
Unless, of course, she was reading his expression as he’d done to her.
“Are you regretting this already?” Roman asked, and because he thought they could use some levity, he added, “Because usually the regrets don’t come until the postorgasmic fog is gone.”
“No. I’m not regretting it. But you are. Does this count as one time or two?”
It would have been much easier to answer if she hadn’t kissed him or if her body hadn’t had a really nice little aftershock contraction. He liked to call those the gifts that kept on giving because it gave his dick a squeeze to remind him of just how good this had been.
And it had been darn good.
“Two times,” he answered, causing her to frown.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked at the same moment she asked, “Did I hurt you?”
He had to smile. “No. The incision is fine.” He probably wouldn’t have noticed if it’d popped. An orgasm was a cure for a lot of things. “And you? Did it hurt?”
She flexed her hand. “Nope. It was a tight fit, but I think that’s what made it so good.” Her eyes widened, and she blushed.
Clearly, she wasn’t used to talking about her private parts with a man. One who’d just introduced that part to sex. But yeah, a tight fit had made it pretty damn memorable.
“I’m glad it was you,” she said, pressing her hand to his cheek. “I wanted it to be you.”
He’d figured that, but the jury was still out on whether or not this was a really, really good thing that would open her up to new experiences or if this was just going to cause her to build a shell around her to guard her heart.
Since she got that dreamy look in her eyes again, Roman decided it was time to put a little distance between them so they could both have some thinking time.
“Bathroom?” he said so he could take care of that first.
She pointed to the hall.
He kissed her because she looked so damn tasty lying there. Her hair tumbled all around her face, and she had a “fuck me again” smile. It was tempting to use up his third shot, but that was something he could think on, as well.
Roman gathered up his clothes, located the bathroom. Not hard to do because the house was small. He decided to take a quick shower just in case he ran into Tate when he got back to the ranch. He doubted his son would pick up on it, but it was best not to walk in there with Mila’s scent all over him. He took a last whiff of that scent before he stepped under the showerhead.
Mila would need to know about what had happened at the inn. If for no other reason than so she could make sure Tate didn’t have another encounter with Lick. In fact, everyone in his family should know. Once Mila heard what had gone on, she’d probably figure out that’s why he’d come to her. She might feel used. Might be pissed off.
If that happened, he would deserve anything she dished out.
He’d hoped that the silence would help him come to the right answer. And it did. There was really only one answer here and that was for him to leave Mila alone. This wasn’t going to turn into a relationship. He didn’t do those. Especially the kind of relationship she would almost certainly want.
She wasn’t exactly a white picket fence kind of person, but it was close. She wanted normal, and she wanted it here in Wrangler’s Creek. Roman couldn’t give her either of those things.
So, there.
It was settled.
He should just go in the bedroom, tell her he was sorry and then hit himself in the head with the biggest skillet he could find. Maybe punch himself a couple of times, too, because he’d really screwed this one up. Then he could focus on what he should be focusing on—Tate and this shit-storm situation with Valerie and the turd she’d brought to town with her.
Roman took a little more time in the bathroom to give Mila a chance to catch her breath, and when he was finished dressing, he went back into the bedroom, expecting to find her there. She wasn’t. And her clothes weren’t lying on the floor, either.
He went to the room across the hall—her bedroom, he realized when he saw the stack of paperbacks on the nightstand next to what appeared to be an old cup of tea and some candy bar wrappers. There were plenty of pillows all stacked up, which meant she probably used this as her reading spot.
“Mila?” he called out in case she was naked in the closet.
No answer.
In a house this size she should have been able to hear him no matter where she was. That sent a jolt of alarm through him, and he went into the living room. No sign of her there or in the kitchen. Roman called out to her again and got the same response.
Nothing.
Since she hadn’t vaporized, he glanced around, trying to figure out where she could be. Maybe she’d taken out the trash or something. He was heading to the side door off the kitchen to check when he saw the note on the counter.
“‘I decided to go back to the hospital and say goodnight to Sophie,’” he read aloud. “‘Don’t worry. I won’t say a word to her about what happened. Just lock up on your way out. Oh, and thanks bunches.’”
Roman read it again. And again. He frowned.
Thanks bunches?
Well, he hadn’t thought that would be Mila’s reaction after losing her virginity to him. He had figured she’d be picking up the pieces of her heart or else picking out china patterns. Apparently, though, she was in a different state of mind than he’d ever imagined she would be, and the PS at the bottom of the note proved that.
“Never thought I’d get to have a one-night stand with Roman Granger. Ha!”
To deepen his frown even more, Mila had added a smiley face and that one word he was starting to hate. “Peachy!”
* * *
MILA DROVE AWAY from her house, not speeding exactly but she wasn’t dawdling, either. She hadn’t lied to Roman when she’d said she wanted to go back to the hospital, but even if Sophie hadn’t been there, Mila would have just figured out somewhere else to go.
She’d seen that look in Roman’s eyes. The panic. The regret. He was probably thinking that having sex with her could only lead to some kind of commitment.
It didn’t.
She had fallen hard for him years ago, and sadly that “commitment” of her heart would have stayed that way even if they hadn’t had sex. But the last thing she had wanted was for sex to make him feel trapped. Apparently, Roman wasn’t ever going to be the friends-with-benefits type.
Mila felt the tears burning her eyes and blinked them back. Cursed them, too. She had fantasized about having sex with Roman, and it had lived up to the fantasy. That wasn’t a reason to cry. It was a reason to celebrate. Maybe now she could truly get past the massive obstacle in her heart that was there because she just hadn’t been able to stop caring for him. She would always care. But it was time to maybe look at other possibilities.
Even if that made her heart ache even more.
She drove up the street toward the hospital, a trip she could have easily walked, but she wanted to drive around a little while before she went in to see Sophie. Maybe Sophie would be so caught up in her precious babies that she wouldn’t sense that something about Mila was different.
It was dark now, and there was that old saying of the town rolling up the sidewalks at night. The sidewalks were still there, of course, but no one was out and about. At least, there wasn’t until Mila made it to the inn.
Valerie was outside, pacing and smoking a cigarette.
Mila considered just driving right past her, but she suspected the reason Roman had ended up at her place was because of something that had gone on here. Since she might not hear it from Roman, she pulled over to listen to what Valerie had to say.
“Fuck Roman,” Valerie snarled the moment Mila got out of her car.
Because Mila had done just that, she just stayed quiet and waited. She didn’t have to wait long for Valerie to continue.
“You can tell Roman I said that, too. Fuck him. Do you know what he did?” But she didn’t give Mila a chance to venture a guess. Her guess, though, would have been that Roman had punched Lick because of something he said to Tate. “He punched Lick. Twice.”
Yep, Mila had been right. “Was Tate there when it happened?”
Valerie stopped in midpace and gave her a “what the hell are you talking about” look. “No. This all went on after Tate left. Roman was being a dick, and now Lick’s packing to leave.”
Great news. Well, maybe. “You’re not going with him, are you? Because the doctor wanted you to be there for a therapy session.”
Valerie grunted and kept puffing on that cigarette. “Tate’s fine. He didn’t even get upset when Lick called him a brat. And Lick didn’t mean it. He’s just tired, that’s all.”
Everything inside Mila went still. “He called Tate that?”
“So what? I’m sure Tate’s been called worse. He’s a teenager, for Christ’s sake.”
“He’s never been called worse by his mother’s boyfriend.” Mila tried to tamp down her anger, but it was too late. She wanted to go inside and punch Lick herself. “Why would you bring Lick here with you, anyway? This visit isn’t about him. It’s about your son.”
Valerie huffed. “You think you have the right to give me advice just because you’re fucking Roman? Well, you don’t. No one has the right to give me advice when it comes to me and my son.”
There was probably nothing Mila could say to her that would help. Plenty she could do to hurt, though, and Mila was wishing she could slap some sense into her cousin. That would only make things worse for Roman and Tate.
“Tate idolizes you,” Mila settled for saying. “Whenever you send him a card or call him, he tells everyone. Just those small gestures from you make him happy. Think how much good a therapy session with him would do. It would let him know that you love him.”
“Of course I love him. He’s my kid,” Valerie snapped. For a moment it seemed Valerie was about to jump into another tirade about Mila minding her own business. She didn’t. She cursed, but Mila thought that might be aimed at herself.
“I’m not good at this,” Valerie said under her breath. “That’s why I talked Lick into coming with me. Because I will never be good at this, and I thought it’d help to have him here.”
Mila wasn’t sure what this encompassed, but maybe Valerie meant motherhood. She also wasn’t sure why Valerie would have thought a guy like Lick would have been of any help whatsoever.
“Tate doesn’t need you to be perfect,” Mila explained. “He just needs you to be there.”
“That’s just it. If I’m there, I’ll screw it up. I always do.” When Valerie looked at her, Mila saw the tears.
Valerie had done so many hurtful things that it was hard to be affected by those tears and feel sorry for her, but Mila did. She could never dismiss all the things Valerie had done to Tate, but it was obvious she was at least aware of the damage she’d been doing. Until tonight, Mila hadn’t even been sure Tate was on Valerie’s radar.
“I left the hospital because I could see you were all judging me,” Valerie went on. “The only thing I could think of was to pretend that I wanted Tate to meet Lick.”
Mila just sighed. “Obviously, that didn’t work. And as for judging you, I wasn’t. I was actually thinking how beautiful you are, how beautiful you’ve always been. It’s no wonder that Roman was attracted to you.”
She hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud. She’d learned the hard way not to bring up Roman because it usually caused Valerie to go into the insult/attack mode.
But Valerie only dismissed it with another grunt. “When Roman picked me in high school, I couldn’t believe it. Here we lived, in a trailer. With Vita. And he still picked me. That’s when I knew something was really wrong with me. Because I didn’t love him. And I kept thinking if I can’t love someone like Roman Granger, then there must be something seriously broken inside me.”
This was the first Mila was hearing of any of this. When Valerie had been with Roman, the only thing she’d ever talked about was the sex. Mila had assumed there’d been some love involved but apparently not.
Not on Valerie’s part, anyway.
But Mila was almost positive that Roman had been in love with her cousin. Ironic that he’d fallen in love with the very person who wouldn’t love him back.
Valerie’s tears started up again, and this time she couldn’t blink them away. They spilled down her cheeks. Mila hoped she didn’t regret this, but she put her arms around Valerie and hugged her. She expected Valerie to push her away and start the barb-flinging, but she stayed there a few seconds, then eased away.
“How can I fix this?” Valerie asked.
“You can go to that therapy session with Tate.” Mila didn’t have to think long to come up with that answer. “You do what the therapist tells you to do. You rebuild your relationship with Tate and make it the way it should be.” Now, here was the hard part, and Mila had to tamp down years of jealousy to say it. “Even if that means moving closer to Tate so you can see him more often.”
Valerie didn’t jump to nix that. What she didn’t do was verbally agree. She also didn’t even show any signs of agreement with her expression. Still, it was a start.
The start came to a quick halt, however, when the door to the inn flew open, and a man with greasy blond hair came out. He had a suitcase in each hand and a woman’s purse on his shoulder.
This had to be Lick.
Mila amended her thought about punching him. She’d rather kick him in the nuts instead.
Lick thrust the purse and one of the suitcases at Valerie. “Are you coming with me?” he asked. He took some keys from his pocket, pointed them toward a rental car parked in front of the inn, and he hit the button to unlock the doors.
Valerie shook her head, caught on to his arm. “Please, don’t do this. I have to stay for my son’s counseling session. Just one more day, and then we can go.”
“I’m not staying in this hick-hole another minute much less a day. You can either come with me or you can go to the session with your ex.”
More head shaking from Valerie. “Roman won’t be at the counseling. It’ll be just Tate, me and the therapist.”
“I don’t care.” Judging from his face, he was telling the truth. He didn’t. Not about Tate, or Valerie for that matter.
Lick waited what had to be three seconds at most before he threw off Valerie’s grip with far more force than was necessary, and he started for the car.
“Please, don’t go,” she begged. But Valerie was talking to the air because Lick got behind the wheel and started the engine.
Valerie looked at Mila as if asking her what to do. Again, Mila didn’t have to think about this for long. “You need to stay and be here for Tate.”
“Get in or I’m leaving!” Lick shouted, and it was loud enough for them to hear it even though he didn’t lower the window.
Valerie fired glances back and forth between Lick and her, and Mila gave it one last shot.
“Stay for Tate’s sake,” Mila told her.
For a moment she thought she was getting through to her cousin. But it only lasted for a moment.
“Tell Tate I’ll call him,” Valerie said, and she ran to the car. The moment she was inside, Lick gunned the engine and sped away.