Page 73 of Prey

“When did you leave your stuff here?” I asked when he walked out dressed in his own clothes.

He shot me that arrogant look of his that always seemed to make my heart flip-flop inside my chest. “Does it matter? I will spend my night here, or you’ll be with me at my apartment. I don’t want to spend a single night away from you if I can help it.”

“Why don’t you just move in with me then,” I said sarcastically.

Face serious, he replied, “I thought you would never ask. I’ll move my stuff in as soon as I have the time.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, sputtering a little.

He smiled. “Use your words, baby.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I’m not.”

“We’ve known each other for a minute.”

He shook his head. “Not me. I’ve known you for over two years now.”

“As my stalker, you mean?”

He chucked my chin affectionately before straightening his posture, his hands moving down to smooth the fabric of the fitted black shirt he had on. Not that he needed to. He looked perfect, as always. I was almost sad that he was covering up all that perfection. Not that I would have voiced that thought out loud. The man already had a big enough ego. No need to add to it.

“Kiss me goodbye,” he commanded.

I leaned up and kissed him because even though we’d just finished a ridiculous conversation, there was no way I could deny him when he looked at me like that.

He cupped my neck and pulled me in closer to him, deepening the kiss.

“Tell me you’ll miss me,” he muttered against my lips.

I pressed another kiss against his lips once more before I said softly, “I’ll miss you. Will you miss me?”

The last question was said in whispers. I didn’t want to show Roman all of my vulnerable parts, but it seemed I was hopeless when it came to him.

He pulled back and looked at me with clear brown eyes.

“Like crazy,” he responded, eliciting a small smile from my lips.

As much as I thought it was necessary to fight him on certain things, I really didn’t want to.

It was exhausting.

I just wanted to lie in his arms and be the carefree, happy girl I once was, when he was still Xavier.

“I don’t want to know the details of your job,” I said. Roman cocked his head to the side, curiosity set behind his eyes. “I think it would be best if I didn’t know. Plausible deniability and all that.”

The last sentence made him smile, and he nodded, his thumb moving restlessly against my jawline, distracting me. His fingers were rough and calloused, and it always felt so good against my skin.

I covered his hand with my own, and he stopped moving.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

With soft eyes, he leaned back down and kissed me once more. “Yeah, baby girl. I’ll be careful.”

“And you’ll come home to me?”

He nodded. “I’ll come home to you.”

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