Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

He crossed his arms over his chest, making them look even wider and his sexy hips delectable. No one pulled off business casual like Governor Reese. His button-down had white cuffs and collar, while the rest was the same blue as the French Polynesian coastline. The color made his tan skin pop and his dark eyes shine.

I swallowed hard and adjusted my footing. Sensible heels or not, my simple dress suddenly felt too hot and constricting. Or maybe it was my skin.

“I said a lot of things. Including my thoughts on dessert.”

“You asked for blueberry pie.”

His gaze was hot. “I did. But I didn’t enjoy it the way I wanted.”

My breath stuck in my chest like cotton candy. If I didn’t try now, I’d miss my chance, and I didn’t think I could ward off Roman any longer. I was aching for him. But there was one thing we had to clear up first. One thing that he’d said that I couldn’t let him go on believing.

“I just want to talk about what you said earlier. About you not being a good man. You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

“You have brought out certain traits that I’m forced to acknowledge.”

Even though the house was quiet and we were alone, I knew there was no way Roman would let me talk about the arrangement. Once again, I had to speak like the girlfriend.

“What traits

? After we had sex the first night, you changed. You said that you hadn’t meant to hurt me. Was it something I did?”

He didn’t say anything. Deny or defend. So I cast a wider net, looking for anything I could think of that may have caused his different reactions.

“Is it because of my experience level?” Or lack thereof. “Is it because of my panic attack? Do you think you have to handle me a certain way or something?”

His nostrils flared, and he pushed off the wall to stand up straight. “No.”

“Then explain it to me.” I tried to keep my voice level. “Please.”

Though his arms were crossed, I could see his fists clench. His upper lip jerked up slightly, as if holding back a snarl. He was on the brink of admitting the truth. It was something I was desperate for, so I pushed a little harder.

“It doesn’t make sense, Roman. You don’t make sense. I won’t just take your word for things, especially when you’ll barely discuss them. Admit it. You think I’m some sad weakling who can’t handle life or sex or something.”

“No,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Then what? What do you expect me to think if not that?”

“I wanted to kill him, Amy!” he snapped, and stepped toward me. “The moment I saw the effect that son of a bitch Cunningham was having on you—all the color drained from your face while he smiled and watched.” Roman’s dark eyes were like those of a wolf, and I’d never heard a more deadly voice than his when he said, “It took everything I had not to end him right there.”

“What?” I breathed, unable to form any other word, much less thought.

Roman took another step toward me. There was so much more to him than he let anyone see. This whole time he’d been thinking of me? My welfare? He had used the word “concern” before, but that had been in a different context. I’d never tied it together this way.

“You think I enjoy staying away from you? You think it’s easy?” He closed the remaining distance, crowding me, and when I arched my neck to look up at him, my chin skimmed across his sternum.

“It’s not. But every time I get close to you,” he pushed his body against mine, physically emphasizing his words, “I lose my better judgment.”

My lower back pressed into the counter as a whole lot of intense male desire stared down at me.

“If you knew how many times I’ve replayed that night…” His hand ran up the inside of my thigh. The slight scratch of his rough palm made me shiver. “The firelight on your skin…being so deep inside you that I could feel you coming all over me.”

He dove beneath my dress and cupped the warmth between my legs. I gasped, as much from his touch as from his words.

“I know you can handle sex, Amy. I know you can handle life. I just don’t know how to handle you.”

He trailed his finger along the edge of my panties, and I gripped the counter behind me for support.

“There are so many things I want to do to you.” His mouth hovered over my forehead, down to my ear. “But I never want to scare you.”