Page 75 of Rebound
The Brutalizer. As far as I know, Roman hasn’t gotten into a fight off the ice since we were teenagers. But the thought of another man seeing me would have been enough to change that. I don’t know why, but the thought warms my blood. Maybe I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am.
Roman
Why do you ask?
Lavinia
No reason.
Roman
Is the good girl being bad?
Lavinia
Only in your fantasies, sweetie.
Roman
You don’t have to lie, Blossom. I know you can’t resist me.
A photo follows his words and it’s him, shirtless, his jeans unbuttoned to reveal the waistband of his boxers. Maybe Selene is right, and he really is touched by the devil. I’ve been around athletes my whole life; I shouldn’t be swayed by a physically attractive body. But when it comes with Roman’s face and personality? Yeah, I’m done for.
Lavinia
Sweetie, that might impress other girls, but I’ve been around athletes my whole life.
Instead of a reply, my phone rings, Roman’s name displayed on the screen. I quickly reach for my wireless earphones and pop them in before answering the call.
“Hello?” I whisper.
“Why are you whispering?”
“Jules is a light sleeper. Why are you calling?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
I melt into my mattress, pulling the blanket up under my chin.
“Thought you were upset because I’m not impressed by your abs.”
“Nah, I don’t believe your lies. I know you better than that.” His voice is smooth, like aged whisky that you savor because it’s too delicious to drink in one go.
“Aunt Constance was telling me about Ben today,” I say. “Apparently, he asked about me.”
Roman hums quietly, the sound causing shivers to chase down my back. “I thought I told you to not say his name.”
I bite my lip at the roughness in his voice, squeezing my thighs together as my pulse pounds between my legs. “So possessive. I can’t talk to other men. I can’t wear Kai’s jersey. You do realize I’m going to do anything I want, right?”
“I’m not going to stop you from doing anything you want, as long as you remember that you’re mine now.”
His words make me aware of the weight on my ring finger. I thumb my ring, raising my hand to look at it. It’s a simple gold band, but one that marks me as his. It’s stupid and patriarchal and it makes the ache between my thighs worse.
I know it’s wrong, and I know I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t stop myself as I slip a hand under my panties, brushing my middle finger over my clit in a light touch. I inhale sharply as my belly contracts.
“Lavinia,” Roman’s voice is rough, causing my nipples to tighten, “what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I whisper. “Keep talking. I’m listening.”
