Of him.
Pining for a single touch, a single ounce of attention. A stronger woman would have admitted to that kind of weakness. Not me. Not at that moment. I was too busy being consumed by the addiction.
Addiction to him.
; “You’re free to go anytime, Amy. But never again with that look on your face.” His fingers trailed from my chin to my jaw and down my neck.
“What look?”
“Fear,” he growled.
I swallowed hard. I had no idea what expression he’d seen on my face the night we were together, but I could assume it hadn’t been pretty.
“Are you putting regulations on my feelings again?”
“That depends.” His thumb brushed the column of my throat. “Are you afraid of me?”
I swallowed and felt my throat bob against his gentle caress.
“Yes,” I whispered. “But not in the way you think.”
He frowned. “Explain.”
I focused on his chest, the small buttons of his shirt. Before I lost my nerve, I started unfastening them.
“I’m afraid of the way you make me feel sometimes.”
One button undone. I moved down to the next one, getting little peeks of that mocha skin and strong stomach. I had to lick my lips to keep from drooling.
“Sometimes?”
I nodded. What I felt was not a simple fear, but a confusing terror that this man had some kind of hold on me. The kind that made me forget logic, forget what I was doing here and how this whole thing had started. Forget how badly someone could hurt you.
Getting caught up was stupid. Too bad I couldn’t get the better part of my brain to understand that right now. The only thing I could do was try to explain it.
“Being with you—” I started.
“The other night.” It wasn’t a question. He wanted me to say it. Acknowledge what had happened between us. All of it.
“Yes.” I said. “It was like a haze. When it cleared, I didn’t know how to act…what to do.”
“What have you normally done in the past?”
I shrugged, unable to look him in the eye. He didn’t need to know the details of my past relationships—or rather, relationship—but there was no reason to hide the basics.
“I haven’t had a lot of experience dealing with things like this.”
“You mean sex?”
I nodded. My face instantly heated, and I felt just a hint of anxiety. He spoke so bluntly sometimes. Untucking his shirt, I freed the final button.
“How much experience are you talking about, Amy?” His hands ensnared mine, stilling them before I could open his shirt fully.
“I’ve had one boyfriend. We were intimate…but only a few times…” I mumbled, all the heat I’d been feeling turning chilly as unwanted memories suddenly invaded.
“How long ago?” Roman’s voice was low, like he really wanted to know, cared to know.