“I’ll contact the guys in charge, let them know someone’s been snooping-” He started to reach for his laptop, but then halted, his expression shifting as if he had just remembered he’d left the stove on.
“Wait. What happens if Dean tells someone? Has he told your sister already?” His voice was laced with concern, and I could see the gears turning in his mind.
“He won’t. And he hasn’t,” I assured him, crossing the room to sit on the bed, folding my arms defiantly. I needed to project confidence, even if my insides were churning. “I already handled that. Or at least… I think I handled that.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Now I’m curious.”
I met his gaze, unwavering, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. “I told him it’s our little fun moment.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a brief moment, we simply stared at each other, the tension thick enough to slice through. My heart was racing, desperate to escape, but I kept my expression as composed as stone.
“I didn’t get that. Come again?” he prompted, his voice low and incredulous.
“I said, I told him I was aware of it… That we did it together. A sort of kink to heat things up.” I watched as his expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.
Roman blinked at me, once, twice, as if he were trying to decipher whether he had misheard or if I had truly ignited our relationship in the most unconventional way possible.
“You… told Dean…” he began slowly, each word carefully measured, “…that my presence on an escort site was-“
“Our thing.” I crossed my legs and leaned back against the headboard, attempting to project a nonchalant demeanor that belied the storm of anxiety within me.
“A little spice. You know, the adventurous kind. Not every rich guy with a weird kink finds a fiancée who’s game. You’re lucky.” I teased him, but the moment the words left my lips, I regretted it.
The silence that followed could have been sliced with the steak knife I had been envisioning burying in Dean’s smug face earlier.
Roman tilted his head, his expression one of disbelief, as if I had just confessed to robbing a bank in broad daylight. “Savannah… why?”
“Because,” I replied sweetly, forcing a smile, “the alternative was him running to Chloe with gossip so juicy she’d spread it around before dessert. I had to throw him something that would make him drop it. You should appreciate my quick thinking.”
He managed a chuckle, but there was a hint of tension in it. “And he bought it?”
“Hook, line, and fucking sinker.” I couldn’t help but smile, “He even seemed genuinely interested. Looked at me like I was the hottest thing on the planet.”
Roman’s face darkened instantly, his expression hardening like granite. “What did he say to you?”
I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I guess he was aroused. Said it was sexy… that I was sexy. Even invited me out for a private hangout. Just us.” I recalled the conversation, the way he had looked at me, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
Roman closed the distance between us with a sense of urgency, stopping right in front of me, his intensity palpable. “And what did you say?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, like the calm before a storm.
The air crackled with tension, and I knew this was just the beginning of a much larger confrontation.
“I turned him down flat. I told him my fiancé isn’t too keen on me getting too chummy with other men.”
A sly grin flickered across his lips, a brief flash of mischief. “Good girl.”
Then-oh God, help me-he gently patted my head, as if I were a well-trained cat that had just performed a trick.
His hand withdrew almost immediately, as though he realized the absurdity of his actions. He dragged his other hand down his face with a dry chuckle, a sound devoid of warmth. “You couldn’t have just called it a mistake? Or denied it outright?”
I rolled my eyes, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Oh, absolutely! And then he’d just sit there, watching me squirm, convinced I was lying. Dean doesn’t need proof to spin a tale-he just has to sense that you’re not being truthful.”
Out of nowhere, a ridiculous thought popped into my head, one that had nothing to do with our current predicament.
“He’d actually make a fantastic bloodhound. Imagine if he put those talents to good use.”
Roman muttered something under his breath, a low threat that sounded like it was meant for Dean. “I’d kill him.”
I couldn’t help but smile, albeit faintly. “Get in line.”
He plopped down in the chair across from my bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at me with an intensity that made me feel like a puzzle he was desperate to solve. “You’re absolutely unbelievable, Sav. So, now Dean thinks we… what? Hire escorts together? Engage in ménage à trois? Orgies?”
Hearing those words spill from his mouth, and realizing he wasn’t outright denying the implications, stirred a strange mix of emotions within me-jealousy? Mild disgust? Perhaps even curiosity?
It was a cocktail of feelings that I hadn’t anticipated.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Only with the well-stacked ones. I told him that’s where the real fun lies.”
The look he shot me was a blend of disbelief and reluctant amusement. “You’re insane.”
“And you’re welcome,” I shot back, a smirk dancing on my lips.
“But it’s actually the high-end VIP courtesans. Or the Vixens,” he added out of nowhere, his tone maddeningly casual, as though we were discussing the weather.
I blinked, momentarily taken aback. “What?”
“The real fun isn’t just about proportions. It’s about talents, skills… and even areas of specialty-which can vary. Most of the time, the most thrilling experiences are with the PSE. Or even the GFE. Especially the former… just saying.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he were sharing a recipe rather than discussing something so scandalous.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. In a fit of impulsive frustration, I hurled the pillow beside me at him, aiming for his head with all the vigor I could muster.
“Roman!” I gasped, my tone incredulous. “You’re really shameless, aren’t you?”
He caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing as though this was all just a game. “I’m being honest here.” He shot me a sidelong glance, reminiscent of all the teasing moments we had shared in the past.
I would have fired back a witty retort if it weren’t for the sudden, unwelcome ache that flared between my legs, courtesy of the images my treacherous mind conjured.
Fuck.
Way to go, Savannah.
Roman leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if trying to ward off a headache. “But then again… Savannah, you might have just made this worse. What if he tells someone that’s what we’re into? Those kinds of rumors don’t just fade away overnight.”
I tilted my head, contemplating his words. “So what? We’re already an unlikely couple. Our reputation is just one bad whisper away from scandal. Besides…” I let a smile creep onto my lips. “Wouldn’t the nerdy Savannah Hart being into some dark kink make her more… human?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.