I hissed, “Shut up.”
My mom’s voice chimed in again, far too cheerful and completely oblivious. “Chloe and Dean want to take you two out for brunch sometime, for a double date. They said they want to catch up. What do you think?”
The tension in the room shifted, morphing into something new as I exchanged a glance with Roman, both of us silently processing the implications of our situation.
As I stirred awake, a heavy warmth enveloped me, pulling me from the depths of sleep. My leg was draped over Roman’s thigh, and to my utter shock, my hand rested right on his bare hip. His arm was slung lazily across my waist, fingers curled possessively, as if he had claimed me for himself in the most intimate of ways.
I blinked, my eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze-those deep, sleepy eyes that sparkled with amusement.
“Morning, Mrs. Blackwood,” he drawled, his voice gravelly, thick with sleep.
A wave of confusion washed over me as I processed his words, my mind still foggy from slumber. It took a moment for me to realize the precarious position we were in, my thigh uncomfortably close to the one thing that could shatter our friendship into a million irretrievable pieces.
“Roman,” I began slowly, measuring my words, “on a scale of one to ten, how weird would it be if we’re just casually rubbing parts right now?”
His lips quirked into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Depends. Are we talking friction with intent, or… accidental third base?”
I bit my lip, a teasing smile creeping onto my face. “You tell me. You’re the one pitched like a tent over there.”
Roman glanced down, completely unfazed by the situation, his confidence radiating. “Don’t flatter yourself, Hart. I always wake up like this.”
“Of course,” I teased back, unable to suppress a laugh. “Because your subconscious gets off to spreadsheets.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. Numbers can be sexy,” he shot back, a playful glint in his eye.
Our laughter mingled in the air, a soft symphony of shared humor, as we remained entangled in each other’s warmth, too comfortable to break the spell-until the sound of Emily’s giggles echoed down the hallway, shattering the moment.
Roman groaned, his expression shifting from playful to resigned. “Well, there goes the erection.”
“Tragic loss,” I said, rolling off the bed and hastily grabbing a robe. “Maybe next time, give me a heads-up before you spoon me like I’m your personal body pillow?”
“Only if you stop grinding in your sleep,” he retorted smugly, a teasing grin plastered across his face.
I gasped, feigning shock. “I did not!”
“Oh, sweetheart…” His grin transformed into something wickedly sinful. “You really did.”
With my parents off at some political brunch, leaving behind a whirlwind of chaos in the form of Chloe, Dean, Lizzie, Alyssa, Emily, and, of course, Roman-who was currently shirtless, gliding through the pool like an Olympic swimmer-I felt the weight of the morning’s events settle around me.
The sun hung high in the sky, its rays glistening off the shimmering water as I perched at the edge of the pool. My oversized T-shirt billowed around me, and I wore a pair of micro denim shorts, the fabric soft against my skin.
Chloe splashed around in a yellow bikini, her hair pulled into a messy bun, a pair of sunglasses perched on top like a crown. She was engaged in a game of pool ball with Dean, who, with every playful move, took the opportunity to shamelessly grope her.
What a disgusting pervert.
I leaned back on my palms, watching Roman swim slow, deliberate laps, his body slicing through the water like a shark circling its prey.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice husky from exertion, a hint of mischief lingering in the air.
“Very,” I replied, my gaze inadvertently drifting down to where his wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water glistening like diamonds.
He swam closer, positioning himself right between my legs, water lapping gently around his chest. His hands gripped the edge of the pool behind me, effectively caging me in, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.
I didn’t dare to move.
“Let’s give the others something to wonder about,” he murmured, dipping his head low, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
I gasped as I felt it-his lips brushed against the inside of my thigh, soft and warm, each kiss deliberate and tantalizing. He placed another kiss higher, then another, and my heart raced in response.
“Roman,” I warned, my breath catching in my throat. “If you’re trying to seduce me in front of my family, it’s working.”
“We’re just playing the part,” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips, but the intensity in his eyes was anything but playful. They were possessive, filled with a longing that sent a thrill through me.
But just then-
“Sav!” a voice chimed, sweet yet dripping with sarcasm.
Chloe. Of course.
She approached, a margarita in hand and a smug smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her blonde curls bounced with each step, her tan glowing under the sun, and her designer bikini, bright and a little too revealing, clung to her like a second skin.
“Well, this is cute,” Chloe remarked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously as she eyed Roman, who was still dangerously close to my thighs. “You dipping your feet in but not getting wet, Savvy?”
I maintained a blank expression, feigning innocence. “Didn’t pack a bikini.”
Chloe’s smile widened, just a shade too bright, as she turned to the others lounging nearby, throwing a faux-pity face. “How tragic. She didn’t bring a swimsuit. Poor thing.”
The tension in the air shifted, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but I held my ground, determined not to let her spoil this moment.
The sting was unmistakable. It was a deliberate jab, and I could feel the sharpness of it piercing through the air.
Chloe took a leisurely sip of her drink, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, I suppose I can lend you one of mine. You’re not shy, are you?” The question hung in the air, teasing and playful.
Roman’s gaze flicked up to me, curiosity lighting his features. It seemed I had captured the attention of everyone in the room.
A slow smile crept across my face. “Not at all,” I replied, my voice steady, but inside, a whirlwind of thoughts danced around me.
Chloe blinked, just once, but that single flutter was enough to signal what was coming next.
“Perfect. Come with me, sis. I got you,” she declared, her tone filled with a sense of urgency.
The journey to her bedroom was draped in silence, the tension wrapping around us like a finely tailored suit of politeness. Each step felt heavy, laden with unspoken words and hidden meanings.
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.