Forty-eight hours later, I’m landing at the John Wayne Airport in Orange County, California. My heart is going to pound out of my chest or I’m going to pass out, maybe both. As soon as I exit the gate, there is no mistaking him. Roman, in all his beautiful glory, is standing there with his hands in his jean pockets, sunglasses pushed back in his hair. He’s wearing a black wife beater with his iconic skull and swallows, his shop logo, on the front. His tattoos are mesmerizing, even more so in person. His arms are nice too, calling my name like they can’t stand to not touch me. I don’t even think twice as I run toward him, and he catches me effortlessly.
“Well shit, it’s about damn time, darlin’.” He’s got the biggest smile on his face, unable to hide that he’s just as excited as I am. I don’t even know what to say or do. I think I’m in shock that I’m actually here.
He pulls back and looks at me, his brows knitted together. “Can I kiss you?”
I’m still in his arms, his hands locked under my ass. I don’t even question it as I lean forward and crash our lips together. I realize we’re in the middle of a public airport with people all around us, but I don’t even care. I relish in his kiss a little while longer before I get down and make myself calm, or at least appear that way on the outside.
“Hi,” I say with a shy smile, although I don’t know why shyness hit me out of nowhere. I think we’re way beyond proper introductions now that I just rammed my tongue down his throat.
Roman grabs my bags and my hand and leads the way to the nearest exit. “Let’s get outta here.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling up to one of the prettiest houses I’ve ever seen—totally not what I expected from this guy. It’s impressive to say the least. He’s never flaunted his money or materialistic things, besides the shop, in any of our conversations.
We pull in the driveway, and a dark mahogany, double-bay garage opens, revealing a line of three black bikes. I don’t know much about motorcycles, but they look nice. Really freaking nice. Roman is always riding his bike, so I make a mental note to ask if he’ll take me for a ride later.
There’s wood and metal everywhere. Metal diamond plating coats the surface of the cabinets, and black matte toolboxes are built into the wall. There’s so much testosterone in here, I get shivers. I want to touch everything. I know he owns his own shop building custom bikes. I just never pictured anything like this at his home. My thighs clench together at the thought of watching him work in here in his downtime. Sweaty and dirty, his tattooed fingers making all the magic happen.
He pulls me through the door, and all I can do is gawk at the floor-to-ceiling windows. They must be at least twenty feet high. I can tell it’s a split-level home, but it’s hard to see much else with just the dim light outside coming in through the glass.
Roman licks his bottom lip and stares at me with dark intent all over his face. “I have a guest bedroom, several actually, but I also have a big bed, and I still want you in it next to me.” He has me pinned against the door, staring down at me with dark, hungry eyes. “Just say the word if you don’t feel comfortable. I need words here, babe.”
Until that moment, I didn’t realize I haven’t spoken out loud since we walked in. His hands squeeze my hips, and that look he’s giving me renders me speechless. My inner goddess is running her mouth, telling me to jump his bones. For once, I don’t shut her up. “I want you.” I barely pant out the words. “I want you, Roman.”
“Fuck going to bed then. I can’t wait any longer, darlin’.” He picks me up and walks me over to the couch before shoving my shorts down and pushing me down in the curve of the sectional. It’s soft and beautiful, and it smells like him. Roman gets down on his knees in between my legs, raising my shirt up and exposing my bra, and pulls the cups down. “Perfect tits,” he says, before lavishing kisses over them and working his way down to my panties. He pulls them aside and dips his middle finger inside. “Pretty pussy, too. Perfect everything.”
His words have me bowing up off the couch, and I feel so exposed, but I don’t even care. He puts two fingers inside me and his tongue on my clit. It feels like an out-of-body experience, and my vision goes blurry. His beard tickles my leg, causing me to giggle out loud and making me feel like a sex-crazed maniac. He grins up at me, never faltering with his tongue.
He pulls back and sits on his heels. “Get down here, on your stomach.” I do as I’m told and lie down on the floor. Roman pulls my ass up into the air and smacks it hard. “You want my cock?”
“Yes. God, yes.” I push my ass back into him, all but begging for it.
“My dirty girl.” He undoes his jeans and pushes into me slowly at first, stretching me, quickening the pace as I adjust. He takes his fingers he had inside me and shoves them in my mouth. I taste myself on them, and it turns me on.
I’m getting carpet burn on my face, but I’d do just about anything for this man right now. The past months of built-up sexual tension is coming out right here on this floor. I feel like I’ve known him a lifetime, and that right there is enough for me to be so intimate.
I don’t care that we’ve only talked on the phone.
I don’t care that we’ve never seen each other in person till today.
I don’t care about any of it. None of that matters. I just want him.
He lifts my leg up and puts it on the couch, hitting that spot just right, and I know I’m a goner. He must feel me tightening around him, because as soon as I go, he does too.
We lie there tangled together a minute longer, sweating it out.
“Fuck, if I knew it was gonna be that good, I’d have fucked you at the airport.”
I smack him playfully, and he laughs, rolling over and taking me with him, squeezing my ass.
Alarm bells go off in my head.
I haven’t been with another man in so long, but I can’t think about that right now. I’m here, and this is where I want to be. Need to be. Roman wants me here too. “Hey, thanks for buying my plane ticket. You didn’t have to do that.”
He grins. “Anytime, darlin’. And I did have to. You think I’d ask you here and make you pay for it, you got another thing comin’. Let’s go to bed.” He stands up and holds an arm out to help me up off the floor.
I’m exhausted from work and flying. Maybe from the sex too. My adrenaline is wearing off, and I need a bed. “Where’s your bathroom?”
He points to a door on the far side of the bedroom. I turn my phone back on, and texts from Ryan buzz through one after the other. Of course, he wants to talk now.
Ryan: You home from work?
Ryan: Call me.
Ryan: Well, your phone is going straight to vm. Going to bed soon. Love you.
Me: Sorry, phone was dead. Fell asleep. Don’t feel good, going back to bed. Call me tomorrow.
I send it and turn my phone back off.
I step out of the bathroom just as Roman stalks around the bed like a kid on Christmas morning. “Come here, babe.” We climb into bed together, and I lie in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, I’m falling asleep with a huge smile on my face. I’m in a hell of a lot more trouble than I ever thought.