Dirty Revenge (Dirty 3)

I’m not naive. I know what he means when he says ‘talk.’ He doesn’t mean talk. He means fuck. And I know whatever electricity pulsing between us isn’t a love attraction. It’s lust.

But I can’t ignore the way he looks at me. The way his grin softens when I return his stare. The way his hand brushes against mine, and I feel a jolt of emotion rush through me.

This may not be the man I’m going to marry, but he might be the first man I’m with who doesn’t treat me like a princess. He can fuck me, leave me, and rip out my heart as any normal man would.

Roman could be the first guy who treats me like a one-night stand, instead of royalty. I want a man to help me escape my atypical world. But I could use sex with a normal guy. The last man I was with was selling weapons to Matteo. I’m tired of dangerous men.

“I live three blocks from here.”

I grin and chug my beer. “Your place sounds perfect."

Roman’s place is anything but perfect. It’s tiny. It’s messy. And it has a weird smell, a mix of burnt coffee and old pizza.

“You’re beautiful, Gia. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I roll my eyes. “How many times have you used that line?”

He chuckles. “A few times, but I’ve never meant it like I do right now.”

His eyes twinkle when he talks. I like it.

He takes my hand and leads me toward his kitchen containing two cupboards and enough counter space to fit a single plate.

He pulls two beers out of the refrigerator and hands one to me, after popping the top off on a bottle opener stuck to the fridge.

“Thanks.”

“So where are you from, beautiful?”

I narrow my eyes as I drink. “We don’t have to do this. You don’t care where I’m from or what I do for a living or where I went to school. You want in my pants, and that’s it. So let’s not pretend you are this perfect gentleman and get to the sex part.”

He smirks as he leans against the counter not more than a foot from me. He cocks his head lazily to one side like he’s studying me.

“What if I want more?”

My heart catches. Stupid heart. He doesn’t want more. It’s just another line.

“You don’t know anything about me. How could you know if you want more or not?”

He licks his lips, and I can’t stop staring. I want his lips kissing me. I want more than a kiss. I want it all with him. I want the fairy tale. I know all I’m feeling is lust. This isn’t real. I don’t know this man. But yet, he’s perfect.

Roman reaches out and touches my flowing hair gently. “How could any man, not want you? I wasn’t lying when I said you were gorgeous. You are the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever seen. I saw you from the moment you entered that bar, and I followed you. I didn’t even need another drink. I was already drinking. I was dancing with a blonde bombshell, but she had nothing on you. I had to talk to you. See you. I couldn’t explain it.

“You have a smart mouth. No other woman I’ve been with has called me a liar for saying that line.”

My lips fall open as I listen to his every word.

“I’m not like most women.”

H

e stares at me with seriousness in his eyes. “You aren’t like most women. You’re special.”

I bite my lip, trying to control myself. But I want to throw my arms around him, kiss him, and tell him I’ll marry him and have his babies all in the same breath. I don’t understand what’s happening. Every word he speaks is dripping with sex. His eyes are oozing with sincerity.

I know I shouldn’t believe a word he is saying. It’s all an act. He says this and does this with every woman he brings home to get them into bed with him. Tomorrow, he’ll flip. He’ll be an ass who doesn’t even makes me coffee before he sends me home in a cab.

I can’t stop myself though from falling instantly in love with Roman. Maybe it’s the freedom he represents, but I want everything with him. I should walk away now. But I can’t. My feet are cemented to the floor.