ROM
My plans never seemed to work quite right when it came to Mia.
The morning after was supposed to be the grand finale. I’d fuck her slow, drag it out until she was writhing, bring her right to the edge, and then refuse to let her come until she agreed to see me again.
It was crude, but I was ninety-nine percent sure it would have worked, because there was no denying how her body responded to me.
We were fucking electric. Even now, my cock was half hard just from looking at her—her robe loose around her shoulders, her lips pink and swollen, her skin glowing in the soft morning light.
Instead of putting my plan in action, the fucking assistant had showed up. Jenny.
She’d spooked Mia. I could see it in her eyes. The walls were going back up. She was preparing to push me out the door like last night was something that needed to be erased.
Bitterness stabbed through my chest, the pain turning sharper when Mia said, “We agreed on one night.”
I scoffed. ‘You fell asleep halfway through.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘So did you.’
“I woke up in the middle of the night but decided to let you sleep.” She’d looked exhausted. I’d lain there in the dark and watched her breathe. The image of her stumbling on that stage had come to me, and I’d decided to wait until the morning to have her again. She needed rest.
Her bottom lip disappeared beneath her teeth. “Really?’
Her skepticism pissed me off. It’s like she thought I was beneath that kind of a gesture.
I reached for my phone and tossed it to her. “Since you know my passcode, why don’t you check my messages? I texted Cos at three a.m.”
She got into the phone and then frowned as she swiped her thumb over the screen. ‘Why did you tell him you spent the night at the club?”
I arched a brow. ‘Would you prefer I told him I spent the night inside you?’
Red crept up her cheeks. She shoved the phone back at me, her jaw set. ‘We can’t.’
I took a step forward. She took one back. Again. Again. Until her spine pressed against the door and her hard nipples—fuck me—pressed against my dress shirt.
‘Don’t tell me you don’t want this.’
Her head tipped back. Her gaze flicked to my mouth. ‘It’s not about what I want.’
‘Why not?” My voice dropped lower. “For once, Mia, why can’t it be all about what you want?’
She swallowed hard. “Because that’s se—”
“Selfish?” I cut in. “Last night, you were selfish. How did that feel?” I slipped my fingers between the folds of her robe, slid them down, and pressed into her slick heat. She gasped, her hips tilting into my touch. ‘Didn’t it feel so fucking good?’
She squeezed her eyes shut like she was trying to block me out.
‘Look at—’
“No.” She shoved at my shoulder to break free and stalked across the room until the kitchen island was between us. Her eyes blazed with frustration, mirroring my own. “What are you even asking for? Specifically.”
“More time.” My voice was rough. “More time to be with you.”
“To be with me? You mean to fuck me, right?”
My jaw tightened. “Yes.”
Her lashes lowered, like that wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. But I was probably just projecting. “How do you possibly see this playing out? If anyone finds out—”
“No one will find out. Leave it to me. I’ll find ways for us to meet without anyone knowing.’
‘Why should I trust you?” she demanded, her palms flat against the counter. “I still don’t even know what you wanted from me in the first place. Why did you come to my studio? How do I know this isn’t just the continuation of some kind of a plan?’
Her voice was laced with something deeper than suspicion—hurt.
I exhaled.
She had me there.
How the fuck could I ask her to trust me when I hadn’t been honest about a single goddamn thing?
Trust was a two-way street, wasn’t it? And if I wanted her to give me something, I had to give her something first.
A small crumb of truth. Just enough to make her give me a chance.
No matter how small, it’s a betrayal to the family.
I gritted my teeth. Morales wanted to end us, and here I was considering whether to tell his daughter our suspicions about him, all so she would see me…for what? A few more days? Weeks, if I was lucky?
Worth it. So fucking worth it.
Despair at my predicament dripped through my veins like slow-acting poison. Women like her were the reason men like me got themselves killed. What would she do if she realized the power she had over me?
I clenched my fists against the roar inside my head.
Fuck it. At the end of the day, what real damage could I cause by telling her the truth? I was convinced she didn’t know anything about Morales anyway.
‘My mother suspects your father has a secret backer, someone with a vendetta against us who’s pushing him to go after us aggressively.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What? That’s nonsense.’
‘Is it?’ I studied her face. ‘No one fucking buys that he’s doing this just because of his brother.’
She let out an exasperated breath. ‘We already talked about this. He just wants justice.’
I smiled. ‘He spent most of his life running a company, and now, at fifty-five, he suddenly decides to run for mayor and make this his life’s mission?’ I took a step closer. “Has your uncle’s death really tormented him his whole life?’
She frowned. “I don’t know, Rom. How am I supposed to know that? It’s not like he tells me all of his inner thoughts.’
“If he did have a secret backer, you wouldn’t know it. Your dad wouldn’t tell you the truth. He knows you wouldn’t stand for something like this.’
She gave her head a hard shake. “He would never. He’s a good man.”
I scoffed. ‘A good man who lets his daughter run herself into the ground? Who lets your business fail because of his own selfish demands? Who makes it your job to take care of your stepmother?”
Her expression darkened. ‘Do not come after my father, Romolo. This isn’t helping your case.’
I raised my hands. ‘Fine. Fuck it. But that’s the truth. That’s why I came to you. And when I realized you didn’t know anything, I backed off.’
Silence stretched between us.
She looked down at the counter. “That’s the only reason you backed off?”
My defenses surged. How much more could I tell her before I seriously fucked myself? If she suspected how deep this went for me, she’d cut it off. She’d try to save me from the pain that awaited us at the end.
But I didn’t want to be saved. Who said I deserved it?
“You kept my secret,” I said gruffly. “That meant a lot to me.”
Her gaze lifted to my face, and her expression softened.
The thoughtful way she studied me made me feel like I was being drawn into quicksand. The longer I stayed here, the deeper I sank. And the worst part? I wasn’t even trying to claw my way out.
“Okay, Rom,” she said finally. God, I fucking loved hearing her say my name. “I’ll see you again. But we have to be careful.’
I nodded, my relief edged with bitterness about how uneven this whole thing was. “Give me your phone.”
She unlocked it and placed it into my open palm. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Syncing our calendars so I can see when you’re free.’ I walked over to my coat and pulled out a second phone. ‘Take this. It’s a burner. We’ll use it to communicate.’
Mia stared at it, then back at me. ‘You came prepared with a burner? I thought you said this was just one night.’
I shrugged. ‘I always carry one. Just in case.’
She hesitated and then took the phone. She seemed to buy it.
Good. The lie was a hell of a lot more believable than admitting I’d come here with a plan—an entire fucking plan—to make sure she’d keep seeing me.
I couldn’t tell her the truth. That I felt something for her. That I didn’t know what the hell to do with these feelings. That at the end of the day, I knew there was no real future for us.
I didn’t believe in fairy tales.
Let alone one that could happen to me.
But maybe, just maybe, I could have her for a little while.
Just for a little while.
