For just a split second, I forget everything except Roman’s mouth on mine.
I forget Maximus. I forget the threats. I forget the picture of my son that nearly shattered my heart into pieces. All I know right this moment is Roman, his mouth, his scent, the way his hand tightens even more around my waist like he’s trying to ground himself.
This is wrong. This is completely wrong. I should be pushing him away, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
Instead, I kiss him back. I don’t even hesitate.
I melt against him, my fingers gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him even closer until our bodies are pressed together and I can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. Like last night, it’s not gentle or sweet. It’s angry, frantic and desperate.
God, I hate how much I want this.
