Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

“Are you sleeping with the governor?”

“No,” I grinned. “I was informed once that if I ever came close to a bed with him, we’d be fucking, not sleeping.”

He took a deep breath, his impressive chest rising and falling while he took in my words. Bill had been harping on appropriate public behavior, talking points, and “prep-work” for the last few weeks, and as a result, I was getting better at responding quickly without showing my nerves. It was an ability that was helpful right now.

“You’re playing with fire, Amy. You want something that I’m more than willing to give you.” His dark gaze dropped to my breasts, then lower, taking in my entire body before meeting my eyes again. “But I don’t want you to misunderstand what it meant when we’re through.”

One more step, and I finally entered his space. Felt his breath fan over my forehead. Smelled his crisp Italian suit and spicy masculine scent. Heat radiated from every square inch of him. I’d been desperate to be near him again.

Over the past few weeks, I’d learned that Roman did, indeed, have big scary man feelings, just as Hazel had suspected. I was also certain, from the way he treated me in the moments that counted, that he was purposefully not acknowledging them.

I didn’t know if it was the lack of touch, or that he’d foregone a jacket today and stood in black pants, vest, tie, and bright white button-down, but damn it, the man was chiseled, composed, and fine as freaking hell.

“I’m not playing with anything, I just want you to talk to me. And maybe kiss me,” I whispered. “And I want you to mean it.”

His gaze locked on my mouth.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But you don’t want to mean it?”

He stayed still. Didn’t shake his head, but didn’t agree.

“Why is this hard for you?” I asked.

“Because you’re…”

I swallowed, waiting for him to finish, understanding why quick responses were better: too much elapsed time led to thoughts. Bad thoughts. Like, does he not want to kiss me because I’m ugly? Annoying? Weak? Was I overplaying my hand?

“You’re different than I expected,” he finally said.

My heart pounded and defeat washed over me. I went to step back, but he dropped the paper and grabbed my hip, preventing me from stepping away.

“I mean that as a compliment.”

And with that one admission, just like the night I’d met him, I felt whole. Like I wasn’t some small, insignificant thing floating through life. I was grounded, if just for a moment, in his arms.

His lips brushed over mine. “You have been the only thing on my mind,” he said. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you?”

“Then don’t. I want you so much.” I couldn’t get my mind and my hormones to agree. It was a big problem, because right now, I was on the brink of giving in. Closing my eyes briefly, hoping to gain some composure, I opened them only to be re-enthralled by that dazzling, dark gaze. I said the only thing I could, “We have to be on the same page with our emotions.”

“I know,” he said.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and flicked my tongue out to taste his lips. He growled and his hands landed heavily on my ass, clutching me closer. My belly pressed against the physical proof of just how hard it had been on him.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he said.

“You sure about that?” My tongue darted out again. “Because you already are.” He was talking to me. Honestly.

“You drive me crazy,” he said and consumed my mouth.

I gasped at the force of his kiss. Hard, demanding. Like he’d missed me. Like he really had been thinking of me.

Plunging his tongue between my lips over and over, he devoured me in a consuming rhythm that made my head swim and my knees weak.

“God damn it, Amy,” he rasped between strong draws and nips at my bottom lip. “You confuse the hell out of me.”