Page 100 of Dark Romeo

“I…I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.”

Wait. What now?

He frowned, looking almost confused. “It’s very frustrating. Highly inconvenient.”

“You poor thing,” I breathed. He can’t stop thinking about me. Just like I can’t stop thinking of him.

“Usually I don’t have any trouble getting over… But you…” he trailed off.

I let out a laugh. “This is a trick. A trap. A way to get me off your case.”

“Why would I do that? I’ve heard that I’ve officially been cleared from the Torrito case. My alibi checks out.”

“This is some kind of game, then.”

“Trust me,” he muttered. “If I could have avoided coming here, I would have.”

What was that supposed to mean? “You mean to tell me that all your other lady friends weren’t available at this moment?”

He grimaced. “I don’t care about them.”

“Good,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“I don’t even want them to touch me.” His face twisted into a mask of anger. “What are you doing to me, Julianna? What the fuck are you doing to me?” He blamed me. He hated me for haunting him just as he haunted me. He took a step towards me. Genuine fear gripped my body.

“Stay right there.” I lifted my gun out of instinct.

“What is it about you? Why you?” He ignored my gun, stalking even closer. So close that his cedar and musky cologne filled my nose.

I only realized I had been retreating when my back touched the door. I sucked in a breath. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot.”

Of course, he didn’t listen. He stepped before me, grabbed my gun barrel and shoved it against his chest, right over his heart.

My finger twitched towards the trigger. He was a known criminal from a known criminal family. He was in my home. I was just defending myself. No judge in the world would ever convict me if I pulled the trigger.

The anger slipped from his face, replaced with a look of resignation. “If you’re going to shoot me, Julianna, just do it. It’ll save you and the rest of the world a whole lot of hell.”

I knew at that moment that there was a part of Roman Tyrell that wanted to die. He wasn’t fearless as I suspected; a part of him didn’t care whether he lived or not. Or perhaps a part of him didn’t think his life was worth it.

My shoulders sank. My hand sagged. I couldn’t shoot him. Because fight it as I might, I knew that his was a life worth saving. I pulled my finger away from the trigger and loosened my grip. You win, Roman. You win.

He moved the gun out from between us. I let him. He slid it onto the table beside the door, clanking against the bowl where I usually threw my keys. He closed the distance between us, the heat of his warm chest pressing right up against mine. The back of my head knocked up against the door. The breath caught in my throat.

“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” he said, his eyes drilling into mine. “I wish I had come over when you asked…”

No. Don’t do this. I don’t know if I have the strength to stop you. “Don’t say that.”

“I can’t get you out of my head. You plague me when I’m awake. You haunt me when I’m asleep. The memory of your beautiful naked body echoes in my brain on repeat until I can’t take it anymore and I have to… release the pressure.”

Oh my God. Did he just admit…?

He lifted a hand and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ears. That simple touch set off a shower of sparks inside me. “Do you like hearing that I touch myself when I think of you?” His fingers stroked my cheek and heat fissured through me. If he touched me in the right place, I’d break apart. “Do you like knowing that it’s your name I hiss upon my release?”

I couldn’t speak. I could barely move, a stunned doe in the headlights.

He reached around my neck and gripped my hair, holding my head still. His eyes glittered with pure intent as he went in for the kill. “Ask me to come over again.”

I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let him in. His flirtatious teasing earlier was just a cover, a trick to get himself inside. Here was his real intention. His gaze dropped to my lips and he lowered his mouth.

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