Page 17 of Dark Romeo

JULIANNA

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“My hotel’s only a minute away,” Roman said, as we walked the quiet streets, lit by watery streetlights. His shoulder brushed against mine again, and another rush of heat flooded through me.

“That’s what you said five minutes ago,” I said. I glanced over to him, eager to discreetly study his stunning lines again. He was already staring at me, a sexy half-smirk on his beautiful lips. He half-stepped, half-turned towards me, and I bumped into him. In the dimness between streetlights, he grabbed my face in his hands and swooped his lips onto mine. Ignoring the passerbys, we kissed, hungry and desperate, hands and tongues, bodies pressing into each other as my insides burned and my core ached. Everything was spinning. I didn’t even have a single drink. What the hell was happening to me?

He groaned as I pushed him away, my body screaming at me to find his mouth again, the other part screaming at me to hurry up to his hotel room so I could put his mouth to work on other needier parts of me. “At this rate, we won’t get to your hotel room,” I complained half-heartedly. I wasn’t kidding.

“Whose fault is that?” he said, his hands still roaming my body, threatening to tip me over into a full-blown distraction.

“Yours. Stop kissing me like that?—”

“Stop being so kissable.”

“—and touching me like that.”

“Stop being so sexy.”

Damn him and his perfect comebacks. “It’s taken us almost twenty minutes to get three stupid blocks.”

He looked down at me, his top lip pulled up in a half-smirk so adorable I almost lunged for him again. “I have a solution.”

“You do?”

He picked me up around the waist and hoisted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. My world tipped upside down. Air flitted up my skirt. I let out a scream. “Put me down. My ass is showing.”

“Holy sweet Jesus.”

“What?”

“It’s a sensational ass.” He pressed his palm across the area where the backs of my thighs met my ass. The warmth of his hand sent tingles all through the insides of me. “What are you doing?” I gasped.

“Trying to preserve your modesty.”

“What?”

“I’m holding your skirt down. No one is allowed to look at this magnificent ass except me.”

“Take your hand off me.”

He grunted. “Okay then. It’s your fault if I have to kill someone for staring.”

He released me. The wind took this opportunity to blow up my legs. I felt my skirt lift and cold air on my ass. I let out a yelp.

He let out a groan. “You’re wearing red lacy underwear?” His voice came out tight, almost pained. “Please tell me the bra matches.”

The wind was obviously on his side because it blew my skirt up again. “Ok, ok. Put your hand back.”

“I’m confused. Did you want my hand on your ass or?—”

“Put your damn hand back.”

He chuckled. The low vibration went right through me. “My pleasure.”

This time his hand pressed right on my ass, his large palm feeling like it was encasing both cheeks. I knew he had shifted his hand higher on purpose. I felt the tips of his fingers dig in a little, like a cat testing its claws. Holy shit. My core had turned into one of those globes filled with electricity you see in magic shops, and the sparks were following his hands.

He began to walk, my body swaying gently in time with his gait. From this angle, I had a wonderful view of his ass. Dear God, it was a glorious ass, round and firm and so slappable. I let my body relax over him in submission as he carried me like a conquest to his hotel. Even the feminist in me shut the hell up.

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