Page 85 of Breakaway

By the time we say good-bye to his mom and Roman tosses his phone on the small table, I’m a puddle. Melting, blushing, and panting. My mind is foggy, and I’m trying my best to distract myself. Surely we can’t spend the whole evening fucking, can we?

“Why does your mom call you Roma?” I move away and turn to face him.

“Because that’s my name.” He gives me a crooked smile. “The short form.” His hand snakes around my waist, and he pulls me back into him. “Come here.”

“Short form? I kinda thought it was a term of endearment,” I mumble, biting the inside of my cheek. His palm cups my tit over my clothes, massaging it gently and adding just a little bit of pressure to my nipple.

“Mom used to call me ‘Romochka,’ and I fought with all my might to make her stop using it. Though my granny calling me ‘Romashka’ tops it all. In English, the literal translation is ‘chamomile.’”

“Chamomile? ‘Romashka’ is ‘chamomile’ in English?” I blink and start giggling, loud and contagious. Roman cracks a smile too.

“I’m the last person you’d think of calling that, but my granny doesn’t care. She says she’s an old woman and I should respect her wishes.”

“You should.” I playfully push him away and stand up from the couch. “Listen to your granny, Roman.”

Heading to the kitchen, I don’t look back to see if he’s following me. Because I know he is. The warmth of his body cages me, clouding my mind and skyrocketing my arousal to its highest level possible. I think we should spend the whole evening fucking. It’s a great?—

A knock on the front door stops us both. I look over my shoulder and meet Roman’s gaze. Arching an eyebrow in question, I see him shake his head. He has no idea who it might be.

Wheeling around, Roman strolls to the door as I continue to the kitchen. Even with how curious I am, I don’t want him to feellike I’m always snooping. This is still his house, and I’m still his guest. And this…

I pause, my fingers curling around an empty glass. A woman’s voice reaches my ears, and I recognize it instantly. It’s his neighbor Claire, the tall brunette.

Despite how much I want to go to the hallway and listen to their conversation, I stay put. After pouring myself an orange juice, I prop my hip against the kitchen cabinet and stand still, nursing the glass in my hand. No more than two minutes later, Roman walks into the kitchen.

“What did Claire want?” I ask.

“To invite me…usto her birthday party. She’s turning twenty-four.”

“Us?” I cock an eyebrow, and a lazy smile appears on his lips.

“Well, she invited me, but I told her that these days I don’t go anywhere without my wife.” Roman saunters closer, moving slowly like the predator he is. “Can’t say she was happy to hear that.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” I jerk my head in annoyance. “What is she even doing here? I thought she left you alone after Ava’s birthday.”

His hand slips around my waist and slides down, splaying over my hip bone. “I see her from time to time, on my way home or out and about. Mom taught me to be nice unless I have a reason to be mean, so all I can do is small talk.”

I know he’s riling me up. Taunting me out of my mind. I know that, but I still fall victim to my jealousy.

“I’d prefer you didn’t talk to her.” I push past him and scurry to the living room, intending to go to my bedroom and change my clothes. And also calm down, because I don’t want to argue with him before his next stretch of away games.

His steps echo behind my back, and the next thing I know, my back collides with his chest. “You and your jealousy,” Romanwhispers, his tongue licking the length of my earlobe. “I need you to start trusting me, because not trusting me will grow old real quick.”

“I trust you.”

“Doesn’t really feel like it,” he states. “I only have eyes for you, Malyshka. Claire, and all those other girls who come around the team, mean nothing to me.”

“Those other girls…What are you talking about?”

“Blyat’?1,” Roman curses.

In one swift motion, he turns me around and puts my back against the wall. His hand curls around my throat as he brings his lips to mine. “If you only knew how much power you have over me.” His tongue traces my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth and releases it. “If I could, I would spend every fucking day of my life with my head between your legs, making you come and worshipping your sweet little cunt.”

His lips cover mine, taking my breath away and turning all my thoughts into jelly. I slip my tongue inside his mouth, fisting his tee and pulling him into me. It’s wild and passionate. Nothing has ever felt this good. I swear he feels like heaven on Earth. Roman is just…perfect.

Without holding back, I kiss him with everything I have until he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine, breathing heavily.

“Malyshka…if it’s still not clear how I feel about you, I’ll gladly spell it out. You own me. You and no one else,” he tells me, his eyes burning into mine. I know it’s not “I love you,” but it definitely feels like it. With him, it does.

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