I stared at the crushed remains, a mix of emotions clogging my throat-relief, gratitude, the lingering shame of that video, and a flicker of embarrassment that he had to do this for me. But before I could dwell on it too long, I spun around and launched myself into his arms. He caught me effortlessly, his embrace grounding me in the safety of his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my cheek pressed against him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, his palm smoothing slow, comforting circles over my back, a soothing rhythm that calmed my racing heart. Then, with a conspiratorial tone, he added, “I’ve got one more thing to show you.”
I pulled back, blinking up at him, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”
His smile shifted into something dangerously enticing, the kind of smile that always made my heart stutter. He inclined his head toward the car. “Get in the backseat, and you’ll find out.”
My pulse quickened, my core tightening with anticipation. Just the thought of those words, combined with all the memories tied to that backseat, nearly unraveled me. I bit my lip, feeling a rush of heat flood my belly. “Roman?”
“Don’t you want to find out?” he asked, his smirk widening, and I knew in that moment that whatever awaited me would be unforgettable.
My heart raced, pounding fiercely against my ribcage, as I met his gaze. “I see what you’re trying to do,” I declared, my voice trembling slightly.
His eyebrow arched in amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”
Oh, how it was. My eyes darted around the dimly lit room, anxiety swirling within me as I searched for any signs of life. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that suggested everyone else was either deep in slumber, nursing hangovers, or lost in dreams. “What if someone sees us?” I whispered, the very thought sending a thrill down my spine.
“Oh, love, you’d want them to witness this,” he replied, his voice smooth and enticing, like velvet wrapped around something sharp and dangerous.
A shiver coursed through my body, a rush of heat pooling low in my belly. The idea of being caught-God, it ignited a fire within me that I couldn’t ignore. Before I could fully process my thoughts, he was at the door, swinging it open with a devilish grin, beckoning me into temptation.
“Say it,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “You know you want it.”
“Come on, Sav,” I urged, biting my lip so hard I feared I might draw blood. Screw it. Screw everything. I slipped past him into the backseat, my body trembling with a mix of need and exhilaration. “Don’t take too long,” I whispered, a rush of nerves intertwining with desire. “Or someone might come looking.”
His voice dripped with mischief as he replied, “Don’t scream too hard, or someone will definitely come looking.”
I trembled as I crawled onto the leather seat, my palms pressing against the cool surface, feeling the ghost of my own fingerprints lingering there. I fidgeted with the hem of my sleep shorts, heat radiating over every inch of my skin. “Should I take these off?” I asked, breathless, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with huskiness.
“Not now,” he replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He was in control, and I could feel the power shift in the air.
He slid in behind me, his thighs brushing against my feet, sending sparks of electricity through my body. I rocked back instinctively, my senses heightened as I ground against the unmistakable hardness pressing into my back. I heard his sharp intake of breath, a sound that ignited my own desire.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded, and I obeyed without hesitation, nerves and anticipation twisting together in a delicious knot inside me. A heartbeat later, he instructed, “Open them.”
I blinked, confusion knitting my brow until my gaze fell upon a small velvet box resting on the console in front of me. My breath caught in my throat, and my body froze. “What is this?” I asked, my voice thin and shaky. I shifted back onto my heels, heart racing as I stared at it.
He was beside me now, his presence enveloping me like a warm embrace. He slid the box across the leather, never breaking eye contact. “Open it,” he said, his voice a firm command.
With trembling fingers, I tugged at the ribbon, the suspicion flickering within me but quickly overshadowed by curiosity. As I nipped open the lid, my breath hitched.
And then I screamed. Not a frightened shriek, but a shocked, disbelieving cry that erupted from my throat before I could even think to contain it. Nestled on black satin was a gleaming crystal key fob, shimmering like a precious jewel. It caught the light in a way that was both elegant and opulent, just like him.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, clutching the box tightly in both hands, my eyes wide with disbelief as they flicked up to meet his. “No, Roman. No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”
His smirk was dangerous, a mix of pride and satisfaction. “An Aston Martin Vantage,” he declared, his voice thick with triumph. “It’s yours.”
I screamed again, this time louder, a mix of laughter and sobs intertwining in a beautiful chaos. “You didn’t. You didn’t actually do it. Roman! I can’t believe it! I told you last night, half-jokingly-I can’t believe-” My voice faltered, breaking into breathless laughter. “You really bought it?”
“Not just bought it,” he murmured, leaning closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wanted you to have it. To own it. To command it.”
I shook my head violently, still in a daze. “You’re insane! This is-” I buried my face in my hands, then peeked through my fingers at the shining fob. “I don’t deserve this. I was just testing you when I said I wanted one. You weren’t supposed to…”
“I don’t care if you whispered it in your sleep,” he interjected, his thumb brushing over mine, gently coaxing my hands away. “You wanted it. That’s enough for me.”
Tears pricked my eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of his gesture. “Roman, I don’t even know how to react. I can’t-this is too much.”
His smirk softened into something darker, more intimate, as he took the box from my trembling hands and set it aside. Leaning in closer, I could almost taste his breath, warm and intoxicating. “The car is nothing. You’re everything. But I do like the thought of you behind the wheel… all that horsepower trembling under your hands.” His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles on my thigh, igniting a fire within me. “Handle it the way you’d handle me-fast, tight, and with just the right amount of recklessness.”
My pulse raced, my entire body quivering between desire and disbelief. My lips parted in a shaky laugh, but my voice cracked with raw honesty. “Thank you.”
His smirk deepened, wicked and unhurried. “I like the thought of you with that kind of power.” Suddenly, he gripped my jaw, his gaze intense. “And I’m satisfied knowing you’ll remember who put that kind of power between your thighs.”
A moan slipped past my lips, and I felt a wave of heat wash over me.
God help me… I think I want both-the car and Roman. Even if he wrecked me in the process.
“Oh my God…” The words slipped from my lips, barely a whisper, as I felt my heart race in my chest. I stumbled back a step, my mind struggling to process what lay before me. “Oh my netual God. No way. No freaking way!”
Before me, in the garage, stood a car that seemed to have captured a piece of the sun itself, its sleek body gleaming with an otherworldly brilliance. The Aston Martin Vantage was not just a car; it was a masterpiece of engineering and design. The vibrant yellow paint shimmered, reflecting the light in a way that made it look like liquid gold, and my chest tightened with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration. I could hardly remember how to breathe.
Roman leaned casually against the hood, his arms crossed over his chest, a confident smirk playing on his lips that felt like a blade slicing through my astonishment. “I take it you like it?” he asked, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather rather than dropping a life-altering surprise.
“Like it?” My voice cracked, caught between a squeal of delight and a sob of disbelief. I instinctively slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my emotions. “Roman… no. No, you didn’t just ask me that.”
“I did.” He shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that belied the enormity of what he had just done. It felt as if he had casually dropped a nuclear bomb into the mundane reality of my life.
“Of course I love it! You bought me-” My words faltered as I spun around, gripping my hair in disbelief. “You bought me a freaking Aston Martin Vantage!”
His brow arched, a playful glint in his eye. “In Yellow. Your favorite color.”
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back. “I was joking last night! Roman, I-” My laughter came out strangled, a mix of joy and disbelief. I darted forward, pressing my palms flat against the warm hood of the car. It felt solid beneath my touch, grounding me in the reality of this moment. I almost screamed when I noticed the details.
“You…” I choked out, pointing at the tires in utter disbelief. “You even put my name on it!”
Etched boldly into the black rubber were the letters: Savmanah.
With trembling hands, I opened the door, and my heart raced even faster. The name wasn’t just on the tires; it adorned the seats and even the dashboard.
A scream erupted from my lips, so loud it startled the birds from the nearby trees. I spun back toward him, my excitement bubbling over like a fizzy drink. “You’re unbelievable!”
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.