CHAPTER 15

SHOCK QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY DISGUST slammed through Gigi as Chad’s cold tongue jabbed at her mouth. A car horn honked and an engine roared as the driver peeled out. Damn—there were witnesses to this humiliation. She pounded on Chad’s chest with her balled up fists. His response was to press harder into her. Like she’d enjoy the stiff evidence of his shrimp dick. Even before she’d been so gloriously fucked by Roman—who should be coming along any moment—she’d been unimpressed by the hype Chad failed to deliver.

She braced her palms against Chad’s shoulders. He moaned into her mouth. Gag—she was about ten seconds from puking in his nasty maw. In desperation, she let her hand fly. The strike stung her palm as it connected with his cheek. As many times as she slapped this jerk, you’d think he’d get a clue.

Finally, he pulled back, rubbing his palm across the red mark she left with a grin. “Damn baby, I can give it to you rough if that’s how you like it.”

“You don’t get to call me baby, you little arrogant prick.” Gigi spat at his feet and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“There’s nothing little about me—or do you need a reminder.” He groped his junk as if it was some kind of prize.

Gigi laughed—to hell with this wannabe frat boy. “What I need is you gone. You, on the other hand, need a reality check and a ruler. Then you need to get out of here before my boyfriend shows up and kicks your ass.”

She left the food where it dropped and charged past Chad before he could grab her again. She’d order pizza. Slamming the outside door behind her, she raced up the stairs—praying to whoever was out there that Chad didn’t follow.

The thirty seconds she wasted with her hands shaking so bad that she dropped her keys twice, flashed at her like the countdown in a stupid bomb squad action movie, as she struggled with the lock on her door. Precious time lost that left her more vulnerable and exposed than she’d ever been. There was a certain amount of danger inherent in being a single woman who liked casual sex. She hadn’t been blind to her risks. It made her vibrate with fury that when she made the conscious choice to settle down, this could still happen to her.

When the lock finally turned, she flung herself through the door, and slammed it behind her—locking and dead bolting it. She backed away from it slowly, eyes fixed on the handle waiting for it to rattle, waiting for him to pound on the door and demand entry.

Gigi sank to the floor. She had no idea how many minutes passed before her racing heart and hard breathing calmed enough to think past the bile still lodged in the back of her throat. The memory of Chad’s cold prodding tongue forcing his way into her mouth had her scrambling up, racing to the bathroom to clean out her mouth.

Items clattered into the sink as she swiped up the bottle of mouthwash. She chugged it like a junkie looking for a fix, swishing it to let the burn chase away the nastiness. Holding her hair back, she leaned forward to spit it out and watch the blue liquid swirl past the fallen items. She turned on the tap to rinse it away. If only her wannabe stalker could be disposed of so easily.

Where was Roman? The burn of the mouthwash helped but she needed another taste of his lips and tongue to erase the lingering memory of Chad’s violation. Nothing else would cut it. How pathetic she’d become in such a short time.

With the worst of the frenzy worn down to a dull edge, she padded back into the living room in search of her phone. She scooped her purse up off the floor where she left it. When her hand hit the empty space in the pocket where it should have been, her breath caught. NO—this wasn’t happening. She needed to call Roman. She needed him now—like air—because she was drowning in emotion. She’d never waded this far out before, never used a pole to catch just one man instead of a net to bring in many and now she was going under.

Gigi, dumped the contents of her bag on the sofa. Change bounced off the cushion, clattering to the floor. A lipstick tube rolled under the coffee table. The detritus of her life spread out before her—but no phone.

Panic weighed on her shoulders, a heavy blanket, smothering her forced calm. Closing her eyes, Gigi straightened, pinching the bridge of her nose as she measured her breathing carefully. Here was her addiction—her and every other twenty-something American woman—her phone. She always had it on her—always—until Roman. Until he had distracted her with a kiss and words that made her ever-churning brain stutter and pause to feel the present in a way she never knew she’d always been chasing until she found it. Now, standing here with his absence she needed a fix.

What time was it anyway? She glanced across the room. The red numbers set the frown in deeper. An hour had passed since she left Roman at the shop. How long did it take him to clean? A smile tugged at her lips as she pictured him on his knees scrubbing the mirror and then on his knees for something dirty. She felt calmer already.

The front desk. She left the phone on the desk before she sat in the chair.

A hysterical giggle bubbled up inside of her. Smutty thoughts gave her peace and apparently mental clarity. Well, one thought did at least. The giggle turned into laughter that brought the sting of tears. Gigi collapsed down onto her sofa. She was crazy as fuck. What kind of her person functioned like that? Apparently, she did, and Roman wanted her this way.

She just had to wait for him. He promised. For the first time, she was going to trust a man to be what he said he would be—honest.

Roman felt her standing behind him. The heat of her presence caressing his neck and shoulders before he heard the soft click of the office door closing raised the hair on his neck in gluttonous anticipation. Eighteen hours of knowledge—of heartbreak at Gigi’s feet or more accurately her lips—hadn’t been enough to cool his body’s reaction to her. He guessed no amount of time would. Disappointment burned in the hollow place in his chest left where his heart should have been.

Scrubbing his hand across two days’ worth of beard, he turned in his chair, leaning back, legs spread, his glasses gripped in one hand, arms crossed over his chest as if he could hide the hole there. What he hadn’t expected was to see the torment reflected at him through her red-rimmed eyes.

He’d never seen her without makeup. Even when they’d slept together she’d been wearing the remnants of the previous evening’s cosmetic mask. But here she stood, face utterly bare and more ethereal for its absence of color against the backdrop of her dark waves. The combination made her green eyes standout impossibly large, eyes in which he once believed he saw forever. He turned his face away from the lies they told for her.

“I waited for you all night.” The softly spoken words croaked out of her as if her vocal cords were as raw as her freshly scrubbed skin. It rang with bitter disappointment as if he was the one who’d fucked up.

He turned his whole body away from her, facing the wall—anything but her. “You left your phone on the desk.”

The silence hung there like a physical being standing between them. There was another person standing between them—another man’s lips that had stolen what Roman had coveted for himself. She had to know he caught her. She had to.

“I figured that out when I couldn’t call you. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“I am. Unless I’m missing something, I thought we established yesterday, that’s you.” Gigi’s fingers brushed his shoulder, her grip light; as though she wasn’t sure she was welcome. Her touch burned through the thin cotton of his t-shirt and like a masochist, he wanted more, but that with the uncertain tremor in her voice was too much.

Roman tossed his glasses on the desk before he could crush them and stood, forcing her hand to drop. “I don’t have time for this game, Gigi. I’ve got a client due in any minute.”

She braced a staying hand against his chest that he shook off, making her face close down in confusion. “Your client can wait. I need to know what happened.”

“What happened is that I thought I knew where we stood, but after that scene in front of your building yesterday, it’s clear the position wasn’t vacant like you led me to believe.”

Her jaw hung slack and he could see the puzzle pieces drop into place.

“What you saw was a jerk who won’t take no for an answer. You’re the one I want. I’ve never let anyone else…”

Unable to stomach another lie, Roman pushed past her. “We’ve rushed into something we shouldn’t have. Now, I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to work.” Opening the office door, he stepped out in front of the mirror where anyone could hear their business—where he’d last tasted heaven. He closed his eyes against the image of her naked and pressed up against the glass just for him. He shook his head to clear the invading memory and opened his eyes.

“I thought you were different.” The words were whispered. Her pained expression, the tears gathering like a storm in her eyes, reflected at him in the mirror. Her next words came out stronger—they were the ones meant to cut. “That’s why I trusted you—only you. Whatever else you think of me, I am not my father’s daughter. I will never be that low and if you think I could do that to you or anyone else—you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

Her back ramrod straight, eyes cold and hard—she became the eye of the storm. She marched past him this time. Fragile dignity covered her like a familiar armor. Without needing to pause, she scooped up her forgotten phone and purse on her way to the door, which slammed behind her with all the force of a hurricane wind.