Page 68 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

Who is this? How does he know I’m a virgin? Maybe it’s just a lucky guess?

TheFashionPrincess

@SEVEN So we know each other?

SEVEN

@TheFashionPrincess I know you, princess…Randall.

I feel all of the blood drain from my face. He knows me. How did he even find me?

TheFashionPrincess

@SEVEN who are you?

SEVEN

@TheFashionPrincess You’ll know soon enough. We’re still not done.

I jump back from the computer. I’ve got way too much anxiety and energy built up now. I throw on some leggings and an exercise shirt and go for a quick jog. I run until my legs hurt. I run until I can’t breathe. I run until I can’t think about anything except a shower and bed.

Opening my apartment door, my phone dings, but I ignore it. I just got myself in a good place, and I don’t want to trigger anything. Tossing my clothes on the floor, I take a long hot shower. Then I throw on a pair of short shorts and a loose shirt.

Knock. Knock.

I open the door to find Roland towering over me, holding a bouquet of pink and red roses, orchids, and carnations, mixed with baby’s breath. “Wow.” I gasp.

“I could say the same. You never responded, and I got worried. I came to check on you. But now—I can’t—I—”

His lips find mine as his arm snakes around my waist as he crashes our bodies together and pushes his way in. He kicks the door shut behind him.

I push him away, and hold a hand up between us. “Stop. You can’t just show up at my apartment because I didn’t answer the phone. You might understand why that might raise some red flags for me,” I narrow my eyes at him.

He sits the vase of flowers on the nearest table, and proceeds walking toward me with caution. “I was hoping to go for romantic. But—I see I might’ve come off too strong.”

“Yeah.”

“Should I leave?” He points over his shoulder to the door. “I’m not too ashamed to confess that the kiss alone was worth the drive.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Roland, we can’t have a relationship.”

He takes another step toward me rather than toward the door. His long, powerful legs in grey dress pants take another step, and I retreat back a step. “Who?”

“Who? Who what?”

“Who says we can’t? Do you say? Did…you tell someone? Society?”

“Me. I am saying we can’t have a relationship.”

“If it’s you, then I’ll respect your decision. But tell me, why? Are you worried about what people will say? Or…” He reaches for my hand, and this time I allow him to touch me. Roland yanks me against his strong body. He places my hand against the soft material of his designer button-up shirt. “Do you simply not desire me anymore? Because I thought we had something happening between us.” His strong hand massages my hand in his. It feels so good. His left hand cups the back of my neck. I look up into his heated gaze and my body begins to warm. My defenses are crumbling between his expert fingers that are massaging my skin. “Tell me right now that you don’t feel this between us. Tell me. Tell me and I’ll walk out that door.”

His fingers tighten around the back of my neck and I release something between a whimper and moan. His voice lowers as he says, “Don’t turn me away or reject me because of your insecurities. Don’t miss out what we could share over the fears you have of other people’s opinions. Fuck them.”

The feel of his strong hands, the heat in his eyes, and the authority in his voice has me quivering all over. I nod and his lips claim mine in an almost angry possessiveness. He slowly slides his hand up my shirt. Roland practically rips his lips from mine and in a hoarse voice he says, “I knew it. I could tell you weren’t wearing a bra.” His lips then crash against mine once more. “Is this okay?” He growls. I can only nod, again. He sticks his hand down my shorts and groans. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I was wondering that too. Do you always sleep with no underwear?”

“Actually I sleep naked. I just threw these on real quick.”

The low growl that comes from him excites me. He hoists my legs around his waist. This is happening so fast. I close my eyes and Keaton’s face appears. Then I feel Roland’s solid body between my legs. For a moment my mind goes to it being Keaton carrying me. His warm lips feather against my collarbone.

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