Page 9 of Roma Queen
He locks up when he catches sight of my bare legs, his eyes devouring me from ankle to thigh and back down again. Next thing I know, he’s leaning against the Mustang beside me, his nostrils flared, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
“Fuck, Firefly. You really need to get those things on.”
“Iamtrying, y’know. They’re so fucking shapeless, I can’t tell which is the front and which is the back.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I laugh. “Yeah, it does. When you have an ass it does.”
He makes a deep, wonderfully tortured sound. “Don’t talk about your ass.”
“Why?”
“You’re making it worse. I’m trying so hard not to strip you naked, bend you over and fuck you stupid over the hood of this car right now. Those ridiculous legs. I want them wrapped around my fucking head while I eat your pussy.”
Having an exceptional imagination is both a blessing and a curse. My brain immediately supplies me with all of the relevant data—what it would feel like to be completely naked in these temperatures; how Pasha’s tongue would feel on me; how incredible it would be to have him naked against me, too; what my name would sound like on his lips if I made him come. Suddenly, my cheeks are flushed, my hands shaking, my heart rioting in my chest. God only knows why I’m feeling shy right now, but I can’t even bring myself to raise my eyes to him as I stick my feet inside the tights and roll them up my calves.
“Wouldn’t wanna traumatize any passing hikers,” I say. Standing, I pull the tights all the way up my body, covering myself. When I finally have the nerve to look up, Pasha’s sucking on his bottom lip, his arms folded across his body. My eyes catch on the ink at his wrists, poking out from underneath his jacket sleeves. I can see the tattoos that chain his neck, too. With his leather jacket, the scruffy, ripped jeans, and his piercing intensity of his eyes, he cuts a damn intimidating figure.
I step back into my jeans, fastening the button, and I grab my sweatshirt, getting dressed as quickly as possible. When I pick up one of my shoes, about to jam my foot back into it, Pasha catches hold of my wrist and gently takes the sneaker from me. Very slowly, he crouches down in front of me and slides the sneaker onto my foot. His fingers move with deft precision, fastening the laces, as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face.
“Are you frightened of me all of a sudden, Ms. Llewellyn?”
I swallow. “No. Why would I be frightened of you?”
He looks around, taking in the vast expanse of forest and the bowing sky, and I notice the small hole in his earlobe. “We’re out here all alone,” he says. “There’s no one for miles. If you screamed…no one but the mountain lions would hear you, Firefly. We’ve been pulled together one way or another, our lives colliding in a very explosive way, but…” He turns back to face me, eyes smoldering as he holds his hand out for my other shoe. I give it to him. “Strikes me, you could have just looked up and seen a dangerous man you don’t know very well looming over you, and that could have been a little worrying.”
He’s teasing me in part, that much is clear, but there’s an edge of curiosity to his words, too. He’s trying to figure me out. See if I’m about to up and bolt from him into the wild woods, never to be seen again.
If I’m honest, when he puts it like that, the situation I find myself in right nowdoesseem a little hazardous. Any sane woman would probably be feeling a little worried right now, realizing how far removed from the world she is, with only a huge stranger, three times her size for company. If I found myself in this position with any other man, I think I would feel the same way.
Pasha isn’t any other man, though. He might look like he’s part of a motorcycle club. He might curse more than your average sailor, and his extensive tattoos might give him a threatening edge, but I’m not afraid of him. Not in the ways that I should be. I’ve been lost and directionless for a long time now, so sure I was supposed to be in Spokane but unsure why, and all the time he was there, living only a few short miles away from me, breathing in the same air, driving down the same streets, watching the sun rise and set over the same city skyline.
Now that I’ve found him, Pasha feels like coming home.
I reach out and pin his earlobe between my thumb and my index finger, squeezing gently. “You wear an earring?” I ask, canting my head to one side.
He ducks his head, groaning a little under his breath. His hand lightly covers mine. “Urgh. Used to.”
“Like a pirate?”
His smile transforms his face. Makes him look free, like he’s just some ordinary twenty-seven-year old guy hanging out with some girl he likes. Fuck, he’s so unreasonably hot. I just can’t make sense of his existence. “Like anasshole,” he says, laughing quietly. “Should have known better.”
I seize the moment. Sitting forward, I nuzzle into the crook of his neck and I fasten my teeth around his earlobe, biting down just enough to make him suck in a surprised breath. When I release the pressure and I suck instead of bite, Pasha’s fingers dig into my thigh, and his hot breath skims over my bare neck as he exhales hard.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You sure you gave up starting fires?”
The smell of wood smoke floods my senses, making it difficult to think straight. I release his earlobe and smile as I whisper back to him. “I’m not afraid to be out here with you. Not even a little bit.”
He leans back, wearing a ruinous smirk that would have even the smartest woman dropping to her knees. “So whatareyou afraid of?”
I’m feeling pretty smug as I get up, and for once, for a short, brief moment in time,Iam the one who’s looming overhim. “When it comes to you, your highness, I’m not afraid of anything. I am absolutely fearless.”
The beautiful man with the thick black hair and the hypnotizing green eyes stares up at me, slowly shaking his head as he fastens my other shoelace. “Well, shit. I don’t know if I should be proud of you, or really worried for you, Firefly.”
* * *
I’ve never thoughtto ask Pasha how many members of his family make up the Rivin clan, but as we hike through the forest, Pasha following a seemingly invisible pathway through the trees, up over hill crests, traversing a scree slope, and then following a fast-moving stretch of river, I feel compelled to find out. When I voice the question, Pasha’s response is a little surprising.
