Page 191 of Rebound
“I can't believe you did that,” I whisper.
“I'm pretty sure it's a sign of insanity,” he says. “You’re very calm knowing that a man has been obsessing about you so much that he’s literally tattooed his body for you.”
“I deserve nice things,” I say. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’ve been a very good person my whole life.”
“I’m your reward for being good?” Roman grins. He definitely is.
“What about the constellation on your thigh?” I ask.
“That was the night we first met.”
I blink up at him. “We met when we were babies.”
“You can't make me believe that this wasn't meant to happen. You and I were always going to end up here, Lavinia. I wanted to remember the day it all started. At the time, it felt like stealing little pieces of you for myself if I couldn’t have all of you. I carry you with me everywhere I go.”
And apparently, it all started when we were babies. The conviction in his voice floors me. I don't know why because Roman’s been nothing but open about the way he feels. Turning, I search the drawers until I find a marker that I put there the other day. Raising up onto my elbows, I write ‘mine’, right over Roman’s heart.
“In case there’s ever any confusion,” I say.
Roman laughs, looking down at what I wrote. “Baby, there’s never going to be any confusion. I’ve been yours since day one. I’ve been waiting for you to claim me.”
“Well, I did. Your book’s title is officially, Claimed by the Retired Hockey Player Content Creator.” Something occurs to me. “Where did you get my jersey?”
“I got it when you started playing for the New York Valkyries. My intention was to have you sign it and frame it, like the obsessive stalker that I am,” Roman says.
I laugh lightly, nodding because he is an obsessive stalker. “Why didn’t you have me sign it?”
“We hadn’t spoken in years; I didn’t know how to approach you.”
So many years we lost, not that I hold it against either of us. Roman once messaged me that when I was ready, I’d realize who’s the one for me. Maybe it needed to happen now so we couldn’t fuck it all up.
“So, you took it to the game last night?”
He inhales and holds his breath for a moment. “I keep it in my gym bag as a good luck charm. I didn’t intend to wear it last night until my father cornered me and pretty much confirmed that he’s the reason I was traded to the Titans. He started telling me I had to do what he wanted because I was wearing his name on my back, and I was representing him on the ice.”
Roman flips me over so I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me, his hips settling into the cradle of my thighs. He kisses me sweetly. “I would much rather be known as Lavinia Callahan’s husband than Asher Maddox’s son.”
He dips down, placing small kisses on my neck, pushing my t-shirt up to kiss my chest and stomach as he shifts down my body.
“Excuse me, sir. What do you think you’re doing?” I demand.
“It’s been two whole days since I’ve tasted you and I’m rectifying the problem.” He pushes my leggings down my hips.
“You’re supposed to be resting. No strenuous activities,” I remind him, even as my heart speeds up and my body grows warm. He flicks his tongue over my clit, and I push his head away.
“No, stop. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” I say. I wriggle my pants back up my hips.
Roman heaves a sigh and falls back on to the bed beside me. “Fine. How about I lie here, and you do all the work?” He turns his head to look at me, sliding his pinkie finger under my waistband. “It might even help me feel better.” Leaning closer, he brushes his lips against mine. “You know you want to. Your pussy is soaked for it.”
My resolve falters slightly even as I push him away. “The doctor said you should have complete rest for up to 48hours.”
“I haven’t done anything other than rest the last two days,” Roman says. “Haven’t I been such a good boy?” He blinks at me innocently.
“You’re not being very good right now,” I remind him. In response, he sucks on the soft skin under my ear, and I bite off a moan. This time, when he pushes at my leggings, I don’t stop him. I push them down all the way and straddle him, bending forward to kiss him.
Every time we kiss, my body hums with satisfaction, like there’s electricity running through it. Roman kisses me like he’s never going to get the chance to kiss me again. Like he’s pouring all the years of unreciprocated feelings into that one kiss.
“You have to promise me you’re okay,” I whisper. “I don’t mind doing all the work as long as I know I’m not hurting you.”
