They’d forged a weird little bond—not a relationship, but almost like a friendship of sort—as though one lost soul recognized another and needed something they could only find with each other. They were like each other’s life vest in the storm they created around themselves, a calm they craved but were never able to find.
“Yes,” she said into his chest.
“I’m glad.” He kissed the top of her head again. His hand tangled in her hair so he could pull her back and she could see his face. “But we need to talk.”
8
Alexandra flinched when Roman said the words, so he held her tighter. When Alexandra left the other day, he’d told himself she would be back when she thought it through. After almost a week, he’d started to get worried. The man who hadn’t had a relationship in years was caught up in a woman he couldn’t seem to shake. And he still hadn’t told her anything about his original intentions.
He almost ignored her text that afternoon, figuring she was playing him, but he was a masochist who’d thought about the damn girl all week. And she’d seemed desperate in her text message, begging to see him that night, so he decided to make it quick and dirty at the bar. They were in a temporary relationship for their own mutual gratification, something he needed to remind himself after having sex with her. He was pretty skilled at separating his feelings from sex, but once he sank himself into her warm heat, no matter how rushed, he never wanted to let her go.
He didn’t have feelings for her, more like an appetite he couldn’t satisfy after one filling. She’d whet it the other day with a taste of her, but their time in the parking lot was like feasting on his favorite meal. He wanted his fill twice a day and three times on Sunday. He’d forgotten they were business partners while his body was still buzzing with the aftershocks, but eventually reality set in. She was a means to an end, no matter how the sex made him feel. They needed to have a conversation because for this to work, they needed to communicate. And he needed to know she wouldn’t run off at the sign of hesitation again, because if she did, he wasn’t touching her anymore, no matter how sweet the pussy.
“Do we have to do this right now?” she asked into his chest, hiding her face away from him.
And now she’s hiding, he thought, tipping her chin up so she looked at him. The panicked look in those whiskey-brown eyes pleaded for him to tread carefully. He was taken aback at how she avoided their need for clarification, given she was the one who walked out on him.
“We need to talk,” he told her again, trying to soothe a spooked animal.
“I know,” she agreed, “but it’s been a shit day, and I just want to go home and sleep like the dead before we talk. I shouldn’t have been hiding this last week, although I had my reasons, but today reminded me more than ever why I even contacted you in the first place.”
“Come with me.” This was skirting the line, and he had no right to demand it of her, but he needed to do something about the shadows in her eyes. She’d texted him to make it better, the orgasm merely one thing he could do in a long list of things. Besides, he wasn’t going back to the club, and she still looked so damn sad.
Not your problem, he reminded himself, but shut it down when she nodded. And wasn’t that a burst of confidence? He had to show her he was serious. Holding the door for her as she got in his car, he then walked around and jumped in. Lost in thought, she rubbed her hands on the dashboard, the rumble of the engine shaking her out of her stupor.
“I can’t believe you had sex on this beauty,” she muttered, continuing the rub-down of the leather like it was her lover’s body. Like it was his body. He fidgeted in his seat, adjusting himself.
“I can’t believe you’ve never had sex on a car,” he countered, because she seemed hung up on it.
“I never said that. There was this truck in the back of a bar one time…” She grinned up at him.
He stopped her right there. “TMI. Word to the wise—the guy you just had sex with doesn’t want to hear about who you had sex with before.”
“Noted.” Conversation over, they sat in comfortable silence while he drove toward his destination. A place of his past, where he used to hang out when he needed some peace and quiet above the city. It would be perfect to take her where they could talk quietly and not be disturbed.
“What is this place?” Alexandra broke the silence when Roman drove down the darkened lane.
“It’s the back of Greenwood Park.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “And why are you taking me to the park in the middle of the night? Don’t you know this is how murder shows start?”
He chuckled. “You should probably lay off Dateline. Nothing’s going to happen, I just want to show you something.” She stared out the window, watching their surroundings.
She sighed as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, running her hands through her hair in agitation. “Why are you doing this, Roman? I didn’t think you wanted to be friends.”
And didn’t her statement make him feel like a winner? They weren’t friends, but he needed her trust for this to work.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have contacted you tonight, but I needed something, and you were the person I texted. I mean, I know we discussed our relationship before I walked out, but I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Lucky me,” he muttered.
She shrugged, as though she wasn’t peering down her nose at him for trying to be a decent gentleman. He tried to control his anger, but was too used to other people looking down at him for his club. Not her. Not when he was bending his rules for her. He shifted the car in park and turned it off, throwing his arm across the back of her seat so he could look her in the eyes.
“You think I don’t know what this is? I do. I’m not some girl who’s going to get her feelings hurt because you want to keep this sexual. If you recall, I wasn’t going to have a sexual relationship with you, but you pushed. And then you pulled back last week and disappeared as though you felt threatened. Sorry if I was trying to be hospitable because you said you had a shit day and looked like you needed a distraction. But let’s clear the air in case you were worried I was developing feelings for you.
“Do I find you attractive? Yes, and most men would. Do I want to fuck you? Yes. I’ve told you that from the beginning, and it hasn’t changed now. Am I still willing to go forth with our original agreement? Yes, granted we abide by the terms. Am I going to continue to allow you to jerk me around like a bull with a ring in its nose? Hell no. I want to sleep with you, not date you, and the sooner you get that fact through your head, the sooner you won’t get your panties in a twist thinking I’m here for nefarious reasons. Now, get out of the car, please.” He left, not waiting for her response, walking outside to dispel some of the anger left over from his outburst. She owed him nothing, but the frustration from the day had caught up to him as well, ending in his little tirade.
He leaned on the hood of his car, watching the skyline, the view he wanted Alexandra to experience. The door shut behind him, and he felt her more than heard her walk toward him.
“This seat taken?”
He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered, taking in the sights and sounds in front of her. “I’ve never been here. And I may have been a bit of a bitch.”
“You may have,” he agreed, grinning when she elbowed him. “And I may have lost it on you. Look, I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know it’s not in me to leave someone who seems so damn depressed. This is new to me, so I’m making it up as we go. I’d like to think we’re friends since we’ll be having sex on the regular. Sorry if I overstepped my bounds suggesting something you weren’t comfortable doing tonight. No one knows you’re with me.”