Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

Another taste, another bite.

I wound my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

“You’re so soft, so innocent.”

He gripped my ass hard, his erection prodding, begging for attention, so I reached between our bodies to give it. He hissed as I gripped him through his pants.

“Then there’s this other girl,” he said, as he thrust into my hand, “bold and demanding and so fucking sexy.” His words made my chest split with joy and my lust rise. “I want you so damn bad, but don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “If that means keeping a distance—”

“Don’t you dare,” I snapped. I leaned back just enough so I could see him, our breaths mingling and coming fast. “You’ve been staying away from me because you’re concerned about me?”

He nodded.

“I’m going to ask you one thing,” I said. Roman was battling his own feelings, and I was battling mine. The problem was, it was starting to sound like he did care about me, but didn’t understand it. “What do you think will come of us after the election?”

He frowned and I rolled my eyes. “I mean, after you win the election, of course,” I clarified with a smile.

He grinned and barely grazed my bottom lip. “I don’t know. I figured we’d part.”

“Is that what you want?”

His eyes searched mine as what looked like a minor epiphany hit his expression. “No. I’d like to keep seeing you.”

That simple admission made me want to dance with triumph. Roman did want more, it was just a matter of him figuring it out.

And what I was finding was that if I held on long enough, Roman would come around. This was the first honest conversation we’d had since that night in his car. We were making progress.

Even though a big part of me knew I wasn’t as strong as I’d like, I’d never before felt more alive. Maybe I could—and wanted to—deal with my world. Roman brought out the power, the confidence in me.

“What changed that night at the fundraiser?” I said against his mouth.

Was it finding out that Warren was my ex? Seeing my panic attack and deciding I was too fragile to cope with certain kinds of emotions? Whatever it was, that had been the night Roman had shifted and begun guarding himself against me.

He took another deep taste and I moaned, gripping him a little tighter. “That night after your panic attack, you looked at me like…”

He kissed me again, then shook his head.

“Like what?” I breathed.

“Like I was a goddamned hero.” My heart sped up and I clung to him.

“You are.” I wasn’t sure if I’d actually spoken the words, or if he’d heard them, until he responded.

“And what if I’m not?”

His mouth was so forceful I could hardly breathe, but he didn’t let up. Like a punishment or a warning. I saw something good in Roman, something I was willing to fight for, but it was the same thing he was running from.

“Excuse me, sir?”

I pulled back instantly at the sound of Jean calling from the door.

Roman grinned at me and looked over my shoulder to acknowledge her.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to let you know that Mayor Stanton and his wife have confirmed for tomorrow night.”

“Thank you, Jean.”