Roman (Raleigh Raptors 2)

This was my resurfacing.

Emotions poured out of me with the brush in my hand. I painted how it felt to be touched by Roman, a slew of gentle and teasing pink tones.

I painted how his tongue felt sliding deep inside me, all fiery reds and rushing oranges.

I painted how it felt when he’d slid home the first time, the most brilliant shade of gold. Of happiness.

After losing myself in the art, in the sensation of truly being happy for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt like myself again. I’d worked tirelessly to find that girl I used to be, for months now...but Roman...Roman had given me everything I needed to help rediscover who I’d always been. His selflessness, his compassion, his brilliant affection...all had helped me remember who I was. Who I’d always been.

Someone strong and passionate and wild.

Someone worth loving.

And I had no idea how I was ever going to repay him for all he’d done...but I couldn’t stop the smile stretching my lips as I thought of all the ways I wanted to show my appreciation for him.

11

Roman

The hotel bar was loud as hell, but we’d managed to carve out a somewhat quieter section toward the back. Nixon, Hendrix, and I held down a small table in the corner, and for once, not even Hendrix was drinking.

We’d lost tonight, which always sucked, but it had an especially bitter tone considering we’d been favored to win, and it was Monday Night Football. But it had been one of those games where nothing went right, where passes turned into interceptions, and handoffs morphed into fumbles.

Just to add to our spectacularly shitty day, bad weather had moved into Buffalo, and we were grounded until the morning, which meant I wouldn’t get to see Teagan tonight like I’d hoped. I’d only been gone two days, and I missed her like hell. Talk about going into withdrawals from an addiction. I was testy, distracted, and starved for her.

I rotated my left shoulder and groaned. That shit was going to be sore for at least a couple days.

“You take anything for that?” Nixon asked, breaking his post-game silence.

“Ibuprofen. It’s fine.” It hurt like hell, but I wasn’t going to whine about it.

Hendrix grimaced. “You think Baker missing that block has anything to do with Teagan’s Instagram post of you two all cuddled up at home?”

I shrugged. We’d been together for about a week now, and we weren’t hiding it. I wasn’t hiring out a skywriter or anything but between Instagram and our mothers…well, everyone knew.

“Incoming,” Nixon muttered as a trio of Barbie-looking women sauntered our way with predatory smiles.

“Tough loss today,” the blonde said, giving Hendrix her best sympathy face as the brunette eyed me up.

“It happens,” Hendrix shrugged.

“Can we buy you guys a drink to soothe the pain?” the brunette asked, her eyes skimming all three of us.

“No thanks,” I answered.

“Not tonight,” Hendrix added, surprising the hell out of me.

Nixon shook his head and flashed his ring.

Damn, I wanted one of those. Not just to keep the gold diggers at bay, either. No, I wanted one that said I belonged to Teagan. My heart, my body, my name, fuck, she could have whatever she wanted. Was it way too fucking early to think like that? Absolutely, but it wasn’t like we’d just met last week.

She’d been by my side for twenty-two years already. The fact that we were just now figuring out how good we were in bed together was the cherry on top.

And it was one hell of a cherry.

We were explosive together. Just thinking about how she felt under my hands, all wet and willing, was going to make it all sorts of awkward once I stood up if I couldn’t get my thoughts under control.

The girls threw a pout, but moved on to the next table, which happened to be full of wide-eyed rookies.

“Oh, fuck me,” Hendrix groaned under his breath.

Rick Baker was headed this way.

Both Nixon and Hendrix straightened on either side of me, but I didn’t move a muscle. When Teagan had posted that picture this morning, wishing me luck, I knew this moment was coming, and I was ready.

I’d gone over every possibility for his reaction for the last week. Every act of retribution he could pull, from cursing me out in front of the team—which was on the low end—to anything he could do to publicly shame Teagan. I’d thought of a response to everything.

His jaw popped as he leaned on the tall table, looking at me like he was planning the location to bury my body.

Fucking bring it.

Then he sighed. “So, you and Teagan, huh?” He asked almost…civilly.

“Yep.” My stomach tightened, and my eyes narrowed.

He nodded. “Figured it was bound to happen. It’s not like men and women can ever really be friends, right?” A corner of his mouth lifted.