Page 74 of Forever Fighting
“Ha. You’re very funny. I did get up twice, believe it or not. Did you have fun?”
He comes over and climbs on the hammock with me since it’s made for two, making it swing wildly back and forth beforehe settles in and manages to still us. “I did. It was great actually and my hand didn’t bother me. You should have come.”
“You and your humor today. What fun things did they get for you?”
“A speed bag and a heavy bag, so I worked out with both.” He kisses my hairline and groans. “You smell good. How do you always smell this good?”
“Good genetics. You should go pro with your boxing. Make it less illegal,” I tell him with a yawn as he rolls me over so my face is tucked against him.
“Why are you so sleepy?” More kisses, these against my neck, and I arch to give him better access.
I crack an eye at him. “Vacation mode. Answer me.”
He cuddles me, wrapping his arms around me and moving us so I’m half on top of him, half beside him. We haven’t touched, at least not like this since last night when we fell asleep. He’s given me space to work my mental craziness out and I’ve appreciated that.
“Never wanted to. Cooking is my passion professionally and boxing is a sport I love doing, but more than that, it allows me to release all the built-up tension I can never seem to let go of. I like the rush of it. The dirt and grime. Plus, I’m in my thirties, which makes me officially too old.”
“You could get caught. Or hurt.”
“I could,” he agrees.
“Then what?”
“What are you worried about?” he counters, his finger trickling along my jaw and cheek.
“I just said it. You getting caught. You getting in trouble. You getting hurt. You losing everything you’ve worked so hard to build and possibly even going to prison.”
“Baby, the Irish mob in Boston runs this. Unless I’m physically apprehended, there is no evidence of me in those rings. And I don’t mind getting hit. I like the sting and adrenaline.”
I don’t like any of it, even if the fights are exciting and I agree with him on the adrenaline of it. He’s not only a Fritz but also a famous chef. His face is everywhere all the time. Who is Roman Fritz dating now? It’s all anyone cares about, and I’ve never explored or read those headlines. They were bullshit and I always hated reading them. But he’s gorgeous and insanely wealthy and mysterious because of his bad boy vibe and his elusive and asshole chef presence.
The press loves him. They want him. And I worry that in their hot pursuit of him, he’ll get busted. Then again, he hasn’t yet and he’s been doing this for years, so maybe I need to let it go.
“If you say so, I believe you,” I tell him.
“I do. You read, I’ll catch up on emails and maybe nap.”
“Works for me.”
The hammock sways gently as I roll slightly so I can tap my e-reader and resume where I left off. I haven’t read a book in way too long, but Katy, along with Wren, sent me a list of books I had to get and I downloaded a few of them.
Roman simply holds me, his focus on his phone above my head, and I read, tucked against his chest. For a few minutes, that’s how this goes. Except he’s not reading emails on his phone. He’s just good at playing that part. He was watching me instead.
“What are you reading that’s making you blush?”
“I’m not blushing,” I protest adamantly. Too adamantly. And the blush on my cheeks isn’t helping my cause. “It’s just hot out here. And you’re too close.”
“Right.” He sets his phone down on the side table. “Let me see then.”
“It’s nothing.” I try to angle the screen away so I can turn it off or change the book, but he’s faster, his ninja boxing skills and dexterity snatching my e-reader in a half-second. Damnhim! Again! I didn’t want him to see this. Of course this has to be the scene I was reading. Ugh.
He holds my e-reader and starts to read.
“Are you wet?”
Her eyes blaze into mine. “Yes.”
Fuck! I can’t stop my groan, my hand stuck to my lower abdomen, hovering so near the hem of my briefs that my fingers twitch with the need to take myself in hand. “Good girl. Slip two fingers inside and pump them in and out slowly. I want the butt of your palm to rub your clit as you do. Put your other hand on your breasts and play with your hard nipples under your shirt.” I pause, licking my lips. “If you’re quiet, sweetheart, I won’t put my tongue where you need me to.” She lets out a breathy moan, her eyes falling back in her head as she finger fucks herself to my command. She’s moving on the bed, grinding against her hand, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier in my entire life. “Does that feel good? Your fingers in your warm, tight pussy, stroking you just the way you like it?”
