Page 124 of Stealing Second

“Yes, yes, Roman.”

Her nails sink into my ass as I give one last thrust and lose myself completely inside of her.

21

Fire

It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I know he felt the same way because as we lie here, panting, he’s looking at me with awe. I don’t want to tell him that he’s only the second guy I’ve been with, and my first was nothing like this. Ed never even fingered me to a mediocre orgasm, much less during sex. It’s not just that I don’t think Roman would want to hear about another guy being inside me; I don’t want to hear about all the others he’s been with, especially right after what we just shared.

I close my eyes and allow myself this quiet moment, where the only sounds I hear are our heavy breaths and the beating of my own heart that’s so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t hear it. This quiet moment where I can internally celebrate just having had the best sex of my life and every worry that there was something broken inside of me was proven wrong.

I open my eyes as he slides out of bed.

“Going to ditch the condom and message Marks that I’m making you stay for a couple of hours so I can hold you.”

“Okay.”

I’m surrounded by the scent of him. I don’t even know how to describe his scent; I don’t even know if he wears cologne. He always smells clean and tastes like mint. Right now, the scent of exertion and our sex mingled is intoxicating. I roll over and allow myself to be overtaken by that and everything about how Roman Hart makes me feel wanted and desired in a healthy, beautiful way. Our attraction to one another has been obvious and unhidden. To someone like me, who a psychotic individual tried to slowly groom—and would have succeeded if not for Chloe’s note to Cora’s parents—dating always felt like grooming. I might be alone in that. It is what it is.

I am so grateful he wasn’t hearts and flowers at first. I would have run in the opposite direction. I do happen to love the flowers today, though, especially the ones he gave Cora and Gwen, wanting them to feel special, too. He’s exactly what I needed—honest, persistent, and unwavering.

I roll over and laugh because that makes little sense. It should have scared the hell out of me, but not with him. The only thing I’m afraid of is that I’m unafraid of how fast my feelings have grown. Then again, it only takes me a few seconds to know if an animal is going to bite or scratch. Aren’t we all just animals who have been tainted by our environment, the noise that makes us ignore our instincts and doubt ourselves?

“Stupid thumbs,” I say into the pillow.

“Thumbs?” Roman asks as the bed dips under his weight when he slides back in.

I hold mine up as I turn my head and look at him, naked, in the soft light of his bedside lamp.

He pulls me into his arms. “I’m gonna spoon the hell out of you, Cecilia Sex Goddess Shaw.”

“You and I are going to talk first.” I have to force myself to move away from the place I want to be the most right now and put a pillow between us.

“We can talk all night, but I’d prefer holding you while we do.”

I flip onto my back. “After telling the girls about Cora and all that was going on, Fawna freaked out because she posted pictures and videos of tonight on social media.”

“She take them down so he can’t see them?”

“She did, but first, she hit a hashtag in a comment that linked to an entire page of all things Roman ‘Heartthrob’ Hart, full of all sorts of women who want to have a go with you.”

He cringes. “Don’t look at that shit, Red. I sure as hell don’t. I’m exactly where I wanna be for several seasons, and that trash talk isn’t gonna fuck us up.”

“I’d love to float on that cloud for a long time, but that’s not what concerns me.”

“All right, tell me what that is so I can hit those worries out of the park.”

I sit up and attempt to pull his quilt over my boobs, but he literally growls and holds it in place.

“You growled at me.”

“We’re supposed to be naked and spooning.”

“Roman.” I scowl.

“Just lie back down. You can scold me for what other people type on social media, and then, when you realize that makes zero sense, we get back to naked spooning.”

“Those dozens of videos and shares of your jog?—”

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