Page 33 of Roman Blake
‘Cause he looked too good this close.
Beard a little rough. Lashes too long for a man. That tiny scar on his jaw catching just a little light.
“Morning,” I said quietly.
“Morning,” he echoed, eyes still stuck on my face.
For a second, neither one of us said nothin’. The bed smelled like sex and soap and his cologne. My body was very aware of everything that happened last night, and the way his hand was sittin’ on my hip wasn’t helpin’ my situation at all.
I cleared my throat. “I’m hungry.”
“That so?” His gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth for half a second, then came back up. “You want food or you tryna be funny?”
“Relax,” I mumbled, pushing at his chest just enough to make a little space, even though part of me ain’t wanna move at all. “I meant actual food.”
He let his arm fall away and rolled onto his back, one hand comin’ up to rub his face. “I’ll order somethin’ up,” he said. “You feelin’ okay?”
I sat up slow, checkin’ in with my body. I was sore, but not in a scary way. More like…
Yeah.
In ahe did his jobway.
“My body hurt in places I forgot I had,” I admitted, smirkin’ a little before I caught myself. “But I’m straight.”
He smirked like he already knew. “You welcome.”
“Boy, shut up,” I said, grabbin’ the sheet off the bed and wrappin’ it around me like a dress.
The second my feet hit the floor, flashes of last night hit me again. Me under him. Him whisperin’,“I got you,”over and over like it was somethin’ he needed me to believe.
My chest tightened.
Not ‘cause of the sex.
‘Cause of everything that came with it.
I walked into the bathroom, flipped the light on, and stared at myself in the mirror.
My hair was wild but still cute. Face bare, lips a little swollen, eyes softer than I like seein’ when I look at myself.
This was supposed to be my get-away-from-all-the-bullshit trip.
Not my let-a-man-crawl-in between my legs trip.
Water was runnin’ in the sink before I even realized I turned it on. I splashed some on my face, washed my hands, then leaned on the counter, starin’ at my reflection.
“Girl, what is you doin’?” I whispered to myself.
Fucking Roman was not the plan.
Lettin’ him sleep next to me after? Definitely not the plan.
Feelin’… safe? Held? Seen?
That was the part that scared me.
From the bedroom, I heard his voice, low and calm, talkin’ to room service like this was his normal.
