ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5) Read online

  But I’ll suck up my insecurities and tell her because I know that if I’m to get past this and on the road to winning her back, I have to open myself up to hurt, the same way I forced her to open to me.

  “Hey, stop pissing yourself and take a breath. She loves you, man. She’s not going to just turn away from you.”

  I turn slowly and look at Miah standing in the doorway, resting back against the wood and inspecting me like a bull going to market.

  When he nods as if satisfied and finally meets my eyes, I feel my heart settle and the cold fear melt away.

  “I can’t fuck this up again.”

  “You won’t, or Jared and Wyatt will kick your ass while Jace and I keep watch for Ma,” he jokes, shaking his head ruefully. “Seriously, though, I know you got this. Just be honest with her and yourself and you’ll do okay.”

  “What if I don’t? What if she’s over me?”

  That makes him snort and I hear Wyatt make a crude comment as he and the others walk in from the hallway.

  “Dude, that woman sees no man but you, trust me. She’s just pissed because she fell in love with a moron is all. She’ll deal and get over it. And who knows, maybe she’ll get over that aversion she seems to have to marriage and finally accept Ma’s ring.” Wyatt laughs, making my teeth ache.

  “Not a Goddamned chance. Your women may have fallen into that trap, but I know my Mel and she won’t accept something like that.”

  “Bro, Ma’s teaching her to knit and I saw Tracy and Ellie going through shopping catalogues with her last week. Face it, they’re turning your woman to the dark side, and just like us poor saps, you have no choice in the matter,” Jared growls, causing us all to bust a gut because he’s still raw about Paulie wearing Ma’s ring around her neck and liking it a lot more than the one he gave her.

  She would never admit it, but the one time I saw him try to touch it, she damn near bit two of his fingers off.

  “So, you nervous? Because you only do that hand snapping thing when you’re nervous and you’re doing it now.” Jace grins, making me aware of the nervous habit I’ve regained in the last few weeks.

  I tend to snap my fingers and tap them against my thigh when I’m feeling out of sorts and I hate it.

  “Shut the hell up and tell me something to distract me. Lynn? Case?”

  Jared shakes his head again and I turn to him with a smile that I don’t feel, because I have the insane urge to just start investigating even thought I know that would be bad and wrong and it would signify that my girl isn’t my priority.

  Fuck it, I need to just let go of this part of my life and accept that I have a different path now.

  “Nothing. Case isn’t answering his phone anymore and we’re starting to worry that Lynn…” Miah leaves the sentence trailing, but we all know what he’s saying.

  Case could be dead somewhere in South America, for all we know, and we may never know if we don’t find her.

  “You call this number,” I say, scribbling Fielding’s number onto a card and handing it to Miah with a silent groan.

  I hate having to just let go, but it’s a choice I made weeks ago and I need to do this, no matter how much it hurts to stop before the finish line.

  “Huh?”

  “That number belongs to Fielding, an operative working the weapons side of things. If anyone can find Lynn, it’s Fielding. Now all of you wish me luck and get on with your jobs. I have a woman to go woo.”

  They’re all making smooching noises and teasing me as I straighten my spine and make for the door, the butterflies I’ve been battling coming back in full force by the time I get to the kitchen and grab the basket that Ma prepared for me.

  “Wait! Come on over here and let Mama take a look at you, boy.”

  I sigh and turn, standing still for inspection as Ma walks around me, tucking things in and smoothing my collar.

  “You’re nervous. Good. That means you’re taking this seriously and you’re less likely to mess things up. Now,” she says, smiling in that way only a mother can when looking at her child. “Remember to be open and honest and whatever you do, Roman, do not get impatient.”

  “Ma, I’m not—”

  “Boy, I raised you and watched you become a man. I know you. You see something you want and you go at it and do not stop till you’re on the money. Mel isn’t a mission or a case or a goal to achieve and you know it. She’s a woman with feelings and a lot of unresolved issues thanks to that horrible organization and the way she lost her dear father.”

  Dear father my ass. The chief was my friend at the end, but I’m not about to lie and start pinning father-of-the-year awards on the man. He was an ornery old cuss who only saw what he had when it was almost too late.

  Kind of like you, Roman, old pal?

  I forcefully shake away that stray thought and take a fortifying breath.

  “I’ll go slow and do things right, Ma. I promise.”

  “Good, because I already ordered Mel’s dress and the caterer keeps calling for a head count.” She pats my cheek again.

  “I’ll try to get her back, I will, but if I’ve damaged her love too much, I’ll have to be satisfied with what she’ll give me. And so will you. Promise me you won’t try to force anything if she doesn’t want to get back together with me,” I plead, taking Miah’s advice for once.

  Because he’s right. Mel deserves more than what I gave her.

  “Stop talking nonsense and go use all that charm your father gave you, boy.”

  I turn away with a smirk and leave the house through the back, forcing myself to walk at a slow and even rate, though I want to run to her like some lovesick dog just dying for attention.

  I get about halfway before I turn back to see them all looking down at me from a window in my bedroom and I flip them the bird to let them know how little I appreciate their spying.

  By the time I get to the cottage and knock on the door, I’m back to sweating and snapping the fingers on my right hand with a vengeance. She finally opens the door and stands there smiling nervously, looking so perfect that I have difficulty catching my breath.

  How in hell’s name could I leave this woman to go on a suicide mission when every part of me and the happiness I now feel is wrapped up in her?

  Jesus, I am the world’s biggest fool and I know it.

  “Hey, baby girl,” I say after staring at her and taking in her knee-length sundress and bare feet.

  “Hey right back at ya, Lane. Come on in, I already set the table and got us drinks,” she says, turning away.

  I can see the pulse pounding at her neck and it makes my own nerves steadier when I realize that she’s just as anxious about this date as I am. Probably more if that nervous habit she has of biting at the right bottom corner of her lip is any indication.

  I want to pull her into my arms and suck that lip into my mouth the way I used to whenever she worried. And then I want to rip her dress off and explore every inch of her body with my hands, mouth, and every other part of me.

  I want to belong to her again. Hell, she can keep her maiden name and independence, and I will even stop calling her mine if that’s the way my fiery vixen wants it. But I need her to claim me again, because without that tether to her I am adrift and lost.

  “Um, so let’s see what Mama whipped up for us, huh? Oh golly! She made the fried chicken? That woman is totally evil.” She laughs and I feel the tension drop away immediately.

  “Yeah, she really is. She also made brownies and some of those spinach balls you like so much,” I murmur, unpacking the basket with a smile when I see a bottle of apple cider instead of Champagne.

  Mel starts unloading it all and I help her carry it to the little table in the corner before pulling her chair out and seating her like I always did. Some things with her just come naturally.

  “So, you’re looking pretty lost in thought tonight, Lane. You still worrying about old Lynn and that other secret council member?” Mel asks, watching me from beneath lowered lashes
.

  This must be a test or something, and while my first reaction is to tell her every feeling I have, I throttle it back and shake it off, going for cool, calm, and attentive instead.

  “No. That’s Miah’s problem now,” I say, picking up a piece of chicken and almost choking on the thing when Mel takes a bite of hers and moans long and low, just the way she does right before…

  “Oh Lord, this tastes so good. I think every taste bud on my tongue has doubled in size with this pregnancy, because food just tastes so different now.”

  I push my lust aside, focusing instead on the baby growing inside her. My baby.

  Knowing that she’s carrying a child that is a part of us both is one of the biggest turn-ons I’ve ever known. I want her even more now.

  That could just be because I haven’t had sex in so long that I physically ache, but I want to see every change and taste every new flavor she has to offer.

  “You’re looking great. Pregnancy gives you an added glow.”

  Her blush is instant and I feel my dick go hard enough to strip my zipper when she smiles shyly and looks up at me.

  “Thank you. Now that the sickness part is over, I feel really good. I even gained some weight, which is great because I lost some. Anyway, I feel good is all,” she finishes, picking at her rice with a sigh.

  I want so much to just tell her that I’m different and we belong together and all those things she seems to have needed when I wasn’t here before, but I hold back.

  “So, you’re good? No lingering pain from the lung or your broken leg?” she asks when the silence drags a little too long because I have no idea what to say without putting my foot in my mouth.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  I was cleared for active duty yesterday and have yet to call my superiors and give them my retirement speech.

  “Ah, that’s good, I guess…” she trails off before dropping her fork with a huff and meeting my eyes with determination. “This is more awkward than it freaking needs to be and we both know it, Roman.”

  All I can do is nod since my tongue is damn near tied.

  I’m just a man. I think with my dick a lot, and right now my dick is hard and yelling at me that my girl is sitting right there and I can just—

  “We should just have sex.”

  “What?”

  I don’t think I heard her right. I think it’s just a part of that imagination I’ve been lacking lately, or even a product of the sheer desperation I’m feeling thanks to lack of blood flow to the brain.

  Mel colors a bright shade of crimson and starts chewing that lip of hers before sighing and just forging ahead.

  “We should just have sex. I’m feeling it, you’re feeling it, and we’re just sitting here trying to ignore it while that elephant in the room keeps stomping around. I want you and you want me and—”

  “Are you saying you forgive me? That we have a shot at more?”

  “No. I’m saying that I haven’t had sex in so long that my vagina won’t let me think straight. I’m saying that we were always good together when it came to the physical side of things, and I’m just tired of sitting here pretending we don’t want to rip into each other and fuck like animals. I want you, Roman. I always have.”

  So it’s a no-strings thing.

  “I’m not saying that I’ll want more with you, and I’m not saying that we can’t have more. One day. I just think that we can be lovers and friends while we figure things out.”

  That hurts more than I thought it would, and yet I feel a lightness and a freedom I haven’t felt in too long. She’s giving me an in.

  “Roman?”

  I snap out of it and take a good look at her and see the way she keeps shifting in her seat.

  If possible, my dick gets harder and I’m up and towering over her before my mind can fully process the move.

  “Come on then, because I swear to God I can’t sit across form you another minute without at least touching you,” I growl, pulling her up and into me with a groan and a sigh when her arms wrap around my neck and she offers her sweet lips up to me.

  I’m going to go slow and savor every touch and taste I’ve dreamed of since I left her. At least that’s what I keep telling myself even as I sweep her up and take her mouth in a kiss that’s sloppy and desperate and so hot and wonderful that I hear her moan and push closer.

  I kiss her this way for a while, just enjoying the way she keeps pushing her tongue at me as if she can’t get enough. I can’t, either, and it scares me that no matter how hard I suck and lick at her, I can’t get close enough to satisfy the need that’s raging through me.

  I’m almost in control when she hops up and wraps her legs around my thigh, her sex and the heat of her body burning me when she starts rubbing herself against my leg.

  I lose control after that and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I remember every touch and every time we made love, and this is one of those times where the memory and present meld into one.

  I remember the first time I touched her and she rode my thigh to her first orgasm. The way her heat stayed on my skin even hours later while I tried to finish my shift without getting myself killed, because all I could think about was that I needed to get home and get into her as soon as possible.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” she moans, dragging her mouth away when the need to breathe becomes too much.

  It does feel good and so right that I’m taking the stairs to the loft and laying her down on the bed moments later, my mind and body at odds as I grab her dress and rip it down the middle in one swift move.

  I take it all in then, her lying beneath me wearing nothing but a small pair of white panties. Her body is still the same but for a slight swelling at her waist and the obvious swelling of her breasts.

  These little changes are what seal the deal for me and turn me into a raving lunatic. It’s physical proof that while we may not be together, we are joined in one of the most elemental ways a man and woman can be joined.

  “You’re so beautiful, baby girl. I—”

  I stop and clear my throat when emotion threatens to overwhelm me and fall to my knees beside the bed, knowing that I need to get to her now before what little I have left completely deserts me.

  Her cry when I latch on to her nipple is a balm to my soul and I make love to her with everything in me, sucking, licking, and nibbling so long that I hear her cry out and start ripping at the sheets.

  “More.”

  I love this part and I feel myself grin when her hands start pulling at my hair, trying to guide me lower where she needs me most. It’s always like this, and one of the reasons sex with us is so great is that Mel has no inhibitions.

  She wants me to make her feel good and she won’t hesitate to let me know what she needs.

  “Lick me, Roman. Please. I hurt there,” she pleads.

  I obey her because I can’t resist her scent and the heat another moment longer. My eyes roll back and I hear my own groans join hers when I settle between her spread thighs and open my mouth right over her.

  She tastes sweeter than I remember—earthier—and the knowledge is so intense, I go wild and start sucking and licking like a starved beast.

  Mel is yelling and crying by the time I push a finger into her heat and suction my lips around her swollen bud, sucking and flicking, making love to her sex in the same untamed way I kissed her mouth earlier.

  Her orgasm washes over us both when I feel her tense and contract around my finger and I abandon her clit to latch on to her, needing to drown in her taste as much as I need to slide up and into the heat beckoning me.

  She comes down and starts pushing my mouth away because she gets so sensitive that it hurts to have me there a moment longer.. By that time, I’m hurting, as well, because I’m so hard. I drag myself up and over her, just waiting for the signal that I can do what I need to do to give us both the pleasure we crave.

  Mel, my sweet baby girl, doesn’t disappoint. I have to swallow the lump in my throat whe
n she opens dreamy eyes and smiles up at me as if I just gave her the moon.

  “Make love to me, Roman.”

  “Oh God, thank you,” I groan, sliding up and into her.

  The way I feel when I’m finally home where I belong and filling her completely is indescribable. It’s warm and tight and so good. I feel my eyes cross at the pure pleasure stroking over my length in little contractions that drive me insane with the need to thrust and keep going till I’m empty and spent inside her.

  But there’s more, too. I feel whole and at peace somewhere deep inside.

  The sex is always great, and I won’t lie and say that it’s not necessary to me, because it is. I need it. A lot. But the emotional satisfaction is just as strong as ever, and it’s that I revel in when she starts moaning again and pushing her hips up to meet mine.

  “Roman.”

  “I know, baby girl, I know. I feel it, too,” I moan, pulling out slow and easy before going back in just as slowly.

  “Ah, yes, harder,” she growls, digging her nails into my ass with a twist of her hips that sends me even deeper and makes my dick sputter with the need to offload hard and fast.

  “No, I need to be gentle.” I hold myself in check with the knowledge that she’s delicate and pregnant and—

  “I said harder! Please, Roman, please. It hurts inside without you. I need you to take me.” She’s bumping her hips up frantically to achieve the friction she needs.

  Her desperation sparks mine and I give in with a yell, thrusting harder and faster when she goes wild beneath me and starts screaming her pleasure into the darkened room.

  Her contractions are strong and harder than I can remember them ever being, and it takes all my effort to keep thrusting and prolonging her pleasure before I finally give in minutes later with a groan and pour everything I have into her quacking sex.

  My own orgasm is painfully good. We’re both panting and sticky by the time I flip over onto my back, keeping her joined to me as I struggle to regain the breath she just stole.

  We lie that way for hours after, and I love every second of the experience, even knowing that she’s not about to relent anytime soon.

  What we just shared may not be hearts and flowers and all romance, sex never truly is if we’re all being honest, but now I’m sure that we do belong together, no matter how hard life will be at times.