Wild Nights With My Brother's Ex-best Friend Free Preview

NICOLE

The second I made eye contact with Roman Hayes, I should've grabbed my purse and my little pamphlets and gone home.

But no.

I chose to stay.

In my defense, something in me has always liked to play with fire, and this situation is definitely the perfect example of that.

Slowly, he makes his way toward me, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Roman Hayes, my brother Mason's ex-best friend. I haven't seen him in over seven years. Might not seem like much, but there was a time when I'd see his face every single day.

But that all came to an end when he and Mason fought. They parted ways and I never saw him again.

I bring my own glass to my lips, hoping to mask the nervousness coursing through my blood and making me queasy. I take note of his appearance with one quick sweeping glance. His dark hair, which used to be really messy and tousled in his teens, is now brushed back and away from his face. He's dressed in a fitted black suit that hugs every inch of him perfectly. And his eyes...my God. They're still as mesmerizing as ever.

Roman stops only a few feet away from me, narrows his magnetic eyes, and tilts his head to the side. "Nikki? Nikki Monroe?"

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. My chance to run away undetected has just jumped out the window. "The same."

"I can't believe it," he proclaims as his eyes rake over my body. He seems genuinely amazed and shocked that I'm here, in this high-end gala that only the ultra-rich like him attend. "It's really you. What are you doing here?"

I gesture at the pamphlets in my hand and calmly say, "I'm here to find sponsors for my mother's charity. It's called Wings of Grace. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"No, I haven't," he replies as he leans against the bar behind him. His drink remains untouched. "How is Mrs. Monroe, anyway?"

"She passed away three years ago. Breast cancer."

The light in Roman's eyes genuinely dims, and he looks sad. "Fuck, I had no idea. I'm sorry to hear that, Nikki."

"Yeah, it was a really sad moment," I say, ignoring the knot forming in my throat at the memory of my mother. God, how I miss her. "She dedicated the last years of her life to this charity, so I'm keeping it alive. It's a way of keeping her alive, you know?"

"Of course. I think that's beautiful."

"Hm," is all I can think to say. "Well, now you know what I've been up to. What about you?"

I'm asking this as a mere formality—I know exactly what he's been up to. In fact, the whole world does. Roman Hayes is a name everyone knows. He was named Forbes' youngest billionaire in the world two years ago, and his face is splashed across magazines and blog posts. He's had countless dating scandals.

He's a renowned bad boy if there ever was one.

"Oh, I've been keeping busy," he answers, flashing me a row of neat, straight white teeth. He knows I know—always a jerk, Roman. "But of course, the details of my life bore me. Trust me, it's not as exciting as it all seems. I want to know about you, Nikki."

"Nobody calls me that anymore," I mention.

His smile widens. "Well I'm not nobody, am I?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

I shove a pamphlet at him. "Whether or not you're coming to our upcoming charity event. We just need the word to spread around. It would be nice to have people attend the meeting. There'll be testimonies, and an experienced oncologist on site. Food. Lemonade."

He arches a brow. "Lemonade?"

"Low sugar, healthier than sodas."

"I see," he answers before browsing the pamphlet. Now, this part here is where I really messed up. Making eye contact with him and exchanging a few words was okay. Slidable.

Asking him to come to our charity event? Now that's crossing a line.

I think I've had a little too much to drink. In my defense, the champagne they're offering here is free of charge.

"I can do more than just that," he declares before folding the pamphlet and shoving it in the pocket of his blazer. "I'll be your sponsor."

My eyebrows touch my hairline. "What?"

"You heard me. I'll be your sponsor. That's what you're doing here, isn't it?"

"No."

"Nikki, you just told me that's what you were doing here."

"Did I?"

What the hell is wrong with me?

He gives me a look. "Look, I know that things between me and your brother ended in this terrible, fucked-up way, but that doesn't mean I can't fund your charity."

I inhale deeply. "I know, but I think it's best if we don't cross that line. I live with Mason, and he's my brother."

Roman narrows his eyes at me. "Do you even know what happened that night?"

"No, but I'd be super grateful if you told me."

After their 'break-up' as I like to call it, Mason refused to even mention Roman. Whenever I asked, he'd get aggressive about the whole thing. "Just forget it, Nicole. Jesus. What, were you fucking in love with the guy or something?"

That's what Mason would always ask me when I went too far with the pestering.

And the truth?

I was.

By God, how I was.

Roman waves his hand dismissively. I take note of the golden ring on his finger with his initials. "Well, if he didn't tell you, I won't be the one to do it."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What did you do?"

"You think your brother's a saint, huh?"

I shrug. "He's always been reasonable, at least."

Roman chuckles. "And I was the wild one, hence the one most likely to fuck things up?"

"That's about it."

He shakes his head at me. "Hey, you didn't give me an answer."

That's because I have no idea how I'm supposed to proceed here. Though Mason isn't generally interested in the charity—he thinks I should've shut it down the minute Ma died—Haley, his girlfriend, is. And she helps me out there all the time. She'd notice a huge donation; I wouldn't be able to keep Roman's involvement a secret forever.

Then again, why am I assuming his donation will be something big?

The truth is that if I don't find a sponsor soon, the whole operation will have to shut down. I don't have the funds to keep it running anymore, and it would kill me to go down that route because I've invested so much in it.

I've put my blood and sweat into Wings of Grace. I've given it all I've ever had.

It would suck for it to shut down because I'm too proud to ask for help.

"Have you had any luck finding sponsors?" Roman asks, filling the silence.

I opt for the truth. "Nope."

"Then there's no reason why you should say no to me. You know what? I have a better idea. Why don't you think about it and give me a call when you've decided?" He smoothly retrieves a business card from his pocket and hands it to me.

"What, I have to call your secretary?" I joke.

"Of course not. That's my personal number."

"You have it on a card?"

"Pretty much," he smiles. His look intensifies for a moment, and my whole body heats up like a switch has been flipped inside of me. Roman's eyes move from my eyes to my lips, over and over again. He does this slowly, too, like he's taking his sweet time.

I clear my throat and decide to break the silence. He seems amused. "To tell you the truth, I didn't think you'd recognize me."

"Why the hell wouldn't I? Nikki, I've known you my whole life."

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe you'd blatantly ignore me."

"Why?" he asks after a beat. "Because the money got to my head?"

I burst out laughing. "Maybe. But also because of you and Mason and how things turned out."

He leans closer to me. "No, I would never forget you, Nikki Monroe."

That means he didn't forget the almost-kiss we shared the last time we ever saw each other. And I know that's what he's implying just by looking at his face.

My cheeks redden, and I'm the first to look away and break this soul-tying, will-breaking eye contact.

This has been the most unexpected night of my entire life, hands down.

And what it will lead to...well. I guess I'll find out eventually.

NICOLE

In the end, we exchange numbers—I had his number, and I simply gave him mine—and I call it a night after trying and failing to recruit sponsors.

I unlock my small, rundown Chevrolet Spark and sit with my hands on the steering wheel for a handful of minutes. God, I never thought that accepting this invitation would end up with me seeing Roman after all these years.

One of our sponsors, Mrs. Katie Glennville—a woman who's since lost all her wealth yet managed to retain her connections—got me on the guest list for this gala. Otherwise, I'd never dream of making it to such an event. I almost didn't go because I didn't have the right kind of clothes. This little black dress I'm wearing belongs to Haley. It's not even mine.

Honestly, I don't know how I feel about this.

I press my key into the ignition, start the car, and head straight home. Despite the night being cool, I roll the windows down and enjoy the feel of the wind blowing through my hair. This calms me after my interaction with Roman.

God, I don't even want to think about him. Just the mere thought of accepting his offer makes me feel like such a shitty sister. If Mason finds out about this, he'll be genuinely upset. I know him. He doesn't take betrayal lightly.

I park the car outside his apartment building, which is where I've been living for the past three years, since Ma died. We decided to sell our family home so we could take the cash and do something meaningful with it. At that point, I was already done with college, and though I could've probably gone to grad school, I decided to reinvest the money back into the charity.

Newsflash: Nothing helped save it, and I lost all the money from the sale.

Mason, on the other hand, invested it in the accounting firm where he works, and he's been doing pretty well. Honestly, I feel like crap for invading his privacy the way I am. He should be enjoying his space with Haley, but I'm there, like a stone lodged in their shoes.

That's exactly why doing this thing with Roman feels so wrong—my brother's the one person in the world who supports me without fail. I can't betray him like this, and yes, accepting help from his ex-best friend would be a betrayal.

But we need the sponsorship, or our mother's work will be flushed down the drain along with all the efforts we ever put into it.

We help so many women with emotional and financial support. Can I really bear for it to end because I'm refusing a sponsorship that could save lives?

Sigh...decisions, decisions.

I lock the car as I head toward the entrance of the building, but I hear the sound of my name being called, and when I turn my head, I see Dan heading toward me.

"Not you again," I say, tired by the mere sight of him already. "Dan, we've talked about this. You've got to stop this!"

Dan's the first and only boyfriend I've ever had. We started dating during my second year in college, and we broke up six months ago because I couldn't stand how controlling he was.

And even now, after our relationship has come to an end, he's still doing the exact same stuff that made me break up with him in the first place.

"Dammit, Nicole, just listen to me," he pleads as he makes his way toward me. "Could you do that?"

"I've been listening to you this entire time and I'm not interested, Dan. Please. Stop pestering me all the time and accept that we're much happier apart."

"I'm not happier," he says, his pale blue eyes blinking without any emotion behind them whatsoever. Compared to Roman's eyes, they might as well be a brick wall.

Oh, why am I starting to make comparisons now? What's wrong with me?

"Well, I am. Does that count for anything?" I start toward the building. "Please, stop it. Don't make me call the cops on you."

"Nicole, I love you!"

I ignore him and head inside. I greet the porter warmly, and the middle-aged man says to me, "That guy's been there for hours. I think you should contact the authorities, Miss Monroe. I know his type, and they're dangerous."

"Thanks, Rocco, but I don't think that's necessary. He just has a really bad time getting over things. I'm sure it'll be alright. Thank you for your concern."

I don't want to have to call the cops on him. With a criminal record, life gets a hell of a lot harder, and I just want things between us to be peaceful. Maybe I'll come to regret this decision, but that's my stance on it.

I head upstairs and find Mason and Haley seated in front of the TV, hands clasped. Mason says to me, "Hey, sport. How was the gala?"

My mouth goes dry with the potential lie brewing behind my teeth. "Oh, it was fine, you know?"

Haley asks, "Did you find any sponsors?"

"Something like that," I answer as I start toward my room. "I'll tell you when there's something concrete, okay?"

"That's good news, right?" he calls after me.

Nope. Not in the way you expect.

I lock my bedroom door and throw myself on the bed in Haley's dress. Oh, God. This is the worst feeling in the world. I feel dirty with the lying that hasn't even happened yet.

Maybe I shouldn't accept Roman's offer.

I have to do right by my brother.

Just as this thought crosses my mind, I receive a text message. My phone vibrates in my purse. I reach for it and find that it's an unknown number. My heart warms up then drops because I already know who it is.

It was nice seeing you today, Nikki. You look amazing, and I should've mentioned that you looked delicious in that dress. R.

I gasp and cover my mouth like a schoolgirl. My face is incredibly hot, and I can't believe I'm reading this right. I keep waiting for him to send the follow-up text claiming that he's joking, but that doesn't happen.

Apart from our almost-kiss, we never flirted with each other. In fact, it was always more of a playful relationship, and I sensed that he respected me because I was his best friend's little sister.

What changed since then?

I can't say I'm not flattered. I shoot back a text, telling him words don't flatter me that way. It's a blatant lie.

Maybe I need to try harder, then. How about dinner tomorrow, my place? We can discuss that sponsorship and we can figure out how I can help you.

Heat coils low in my belly. God, this is a mistake. I feel it right away. I'm still dangerously attracted to this man, and if I go to dinner with him, at his place nonetheless, who knows what might happen?

This feels like that pivotal moment when my life could change forever. Maybe I'm exaggerating like I always do, but something about this feels...raw. Real. Concrete.

Though I'm contemplating not going, I already know what my answer will be.

I send the text, then shove the phone under my pillow and get ready for bed. I don't look at it again until morning—I don't want to spiral and not get any sleep. His reply is the location of his place and a time.

Can't wait to see you, Nikki.

I run a hand over my face and sigh.

This is not going to end well.

NICOLE

I get dressed and ready for the day ahead, which mostly includes sitting around in the charity's headquarters—a small office we rent in a commercial building downtown—and doing nothing but hoping that money will come in from sponsors and spontaneous donations while organizing events, sending newsletters, and trying to keep busy.

It would've been the easiest job in the world if it weren't for the significant amount of hoping involved. That's the part that makes it so hard, and eventually, it takes a toll on your mental health.

But anyway, that's the life I chose. I graduated with flying colors in college—business administration is what I studied—but I never got to use my degree because of the charity.

I work for Wings of Grace permanently. If I abandon it, it'll go downhill, and I can't bear the thought of that at all.

"Morning," I chirp as I take my seat at the dining table. Mason and Haley are already up.

Mason gives me a look over his cup of coffee. "You look a little too happy. Doesn't she, Hales?"

"I think the gala went better than she expected," Haley jokes as she narrows her dark, almond-shaped eyes at me. She's gorgeous. Her skin is tan, and her hair is dark and curly. Her father is middle-eastern and her mother had Irish roots. "Why don't you tell us the truth about what truly happened?"

"Nothing happened," I reply as I clear my throat. I almost choke on my coffee when I try to drink it too quickly to disguise my awkwardness. "People told me they'd get back to me, and that's what's happening. I feel positive, though. Can't I feel that way?"

Mason puts his cup down on his saucer. "That's not the problem here."

"Oh, there's a problem?"

"I think all this charity shit's consuming you, Nicole. I know Ma worked for it and she fucking loved doing what she did, but you've got to accept that it's taking too much from you. Ma had the time—she was sick and off work. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and now's the time for you to think about career prospects. You've got to build a career, sport. None of that non-profit shit."

I ignore him as I spread butter onto my toast. I like it nice and crispy. "If you want me out of your apartment, just say that, alright?"

He breathes in deeply, and it pleases me that I've managed to get under his skin. Now we're even. "Stop being an asshole, Nic."

I take a huge bite out of my toast. "Take away the roof over my head and I might just venture toward a job that actually pays. I mean it, Mason."

"I might just do that, then," he rages, his face growing all red. Haley laughs at us behind her cup.

"Can't wait," I said, draining my cup of coffee and taking more bites of my buttered toast.

He grumbles something under his breath and Haley and I exchange a look. On a serious note, I'm extremely grateful for his help, and I do my best to help around just to repay the favor.

But I wished he cared more about the charity. That would be ideal.

I think of asking him about Roman, and the thought sticks to my head for so long that I end up doing it. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some answers from him today. I've been seven years, after all. How long can one hold a grudge?

"Hey, Mason. You never told me what went down between you and Roman."

My brother gives me a look. "Not again, Nicole."

"I saw his face on a magazine last night at the gala, and it got me thinking again." I'm such a damn, shameless, bare-faced liar. "I mean, you have to admit that it was truly random. What did he do that was so bad that you won't even bring up his name? Haley, do you know?"

"Leave her out of this," Mason says angrily before standing up. "You know, you can really ruin my day, Nicole."

I'm shocked by his anger. "What? It's just a question."

Mason grumbles something under his breath as he shrugs on his blazer, and it sounds a lot like fuck off. He didn't even finish his breakfast and he's already heading out the door. "Haley, love you, babe. See you later."

"Love you," she replies.

I turn around in my seat and call his name. "Mason!"

He gives me a look before closing the door. With a scoff, I face Haley again. She tips her head back, finishes her coffee, then says, "Don't look at me. You two get your shit together."

"But is he rational? Does his behavior make sense?"

She doesn't answer me.

God, the lack of answers frustrates me.

I wash the dishes, then head out. I drive all the way downtown and mentally prepare myself for the work ahead, which happens to be nothing at all. The event I mentioned to Roman is in two weeks, and we still haven't received the donations we need to get it together. Dammit, this is so frustrating.

I'll see where my conversation with Roman tonight will lead me.

Honestly, I'm breathless with anticipation, and I'm scared. My feelings for him have been reawakened, in a sense, and I can't stop thinking about last night. Paired with the memory of the (once again) almost-kiss, I'm practically losing my mind, here.

The day goes by unexpectedly quickly, and then it's time for me to close up, get dressed, and drive to Roman's place. I give Mason and Haley an excuse, telling them I'm going out with my friend Esmeralda, and they buy it easily.

It makes me feel so bad for lying to them.

I opt for my sexiest dress—it's red, tight-fitting, and backless, and makes me feel like I'm actually worth a dime when I'm not. I style my blonde hair in loose curls, and line my blue eyes with black liner to make them stand out. Not too much, though, just enough to give me the air of someone mysterious with intense eyes.

Am I that way, though? How does Roman see me now? I used to have braces to fix my gap tooth, and my hair was a lot wilder and bushier because I didn't know how to take care of it. My skin was textured and pimply. I was underweight.

Now, my hips are fuller, and my breasts are a nice, decent handful.

God, why am I thinking about my body when I should be focusing on the sponsorship? That's the whole purpose of this meeting.

I leave and get there in under forty minutes. He lives in a penthouse—of course, he does. I shoot him a text, and he comes downstairs to pick me up. He's in dress pants and a black shirt with the first few buttons undone, displaying his hard, chiseled chest, and his hair is all messy like it used to be.

Oh, God.

"Nikki," he says once he's close enough to me. He kisses my cheek, and his stubble grazes my skin. His scent is so heavenly that it makes my mouth water. Fresh, aquatic, musky. Minty. To die for. "It's so good to see you. Come on in. Let's get this party started."

"Party?" I echo as I follow him inside the building.

"Of course," he says. He has his own elevator to his floor. This is the kind of wealth I can't even wrap my head around. He shoots me a sideways glance, and smirks. "I don't know about you, but I intend to have a lot of fun tonight, Nikki."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to sound unbothered but failing miserably. Pitifully.

His gaze meets mine steadily. "I guess we'll find out together, won't we?"

NICOLE

His penthouse is everything I thought it would be.

It sits at the very top of a high-end glass building, and the view is just...wow. Breathtaking. I can see the whole city from his living room. Well, the best parts of it.

The floor is black and shiny, and his furniture looks like it belongs in a magazine. They're mainly gray, and their colors don't pop, but I mean this in the best way possible. It's a luxurious gray, not standard, too-poor-to-afford-anything-else gray. Everything's spotless and in its right place. Upstairs, there's a rooftop with a pool, surrounded by potted exotic plants.

"Wow," I say out loud. "This is something, huh?"

"Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Want a drink?"

I should probably not have many drinks tonight, but I need something to take the edge off. I don't want to raw-dog this entire conversation while sober.

I'm too nervous around Roman. I have butterflies in my stomach and we haven't even exchanged a proper word yet. I'm still wondering what he meant by the word 'fun'. "Yes. A small one, please."

"Please?" he jokes. "When did you get so polite?"

I raise my chin indignantly. "I've always been polite."

"Not that I remember. What do you want?"

"Whatever you've got."

Roman pours us both champagne and then invites me to head to the rooftop with him. The air is cool and my skin is immediately covered in goosebumps. I take a few sips of the fizzy champagne—it's just the right amount of sour, and it's delicious.

"So," Roman begins, drawing my attention away from the view, "charity work, huh? I never thought you'd go down that path."

"Why not?" I ask, slightly offended by his tone.

"Well, you always seemed like a hands-on, authoritative kind of girl. Sometimes, it seemed like you were older than Mason. Not that I'm trying to make fun of your profession—I'm only noting how things change over the years."

I get his point. "I went into business, but I'm doing this for Ma. I can't seem to let go of it."

Roman nods, watching me with an intensity that makes me feel naked. "And this is what she wanted for you?"

"We never got the chance to talk about it. The doctors gave her a year, and she died in a month. We thought she had more time."

Roman clicks his tongue against his teeth. "I'm really sorry to hear about her passing. She treated me better than my own mother did."

"I just realized I don't know much about your childhood. We were always together, but I have no idea what your family life was like."

"Don't worry about it," he states. "It was nothing special. But tell me about yourself, Nikki. I want to know everything about you."

I take another sip. My stomach's burning. "Like what?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

He seems a little too pleased by that answer, and I take another big sip of my drink. My core is tight, and this proximity is doing strange things to me. My body's reacting in ways I never expected it to.

"What about you?" I ask to fill the silence. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Nope. I'm not that kind of guy."

"Come on. I've read the news. You're in a dating scandal every once in three months."

His smile widens and he leans in closer. "You've read the news, have you?"

Shit. "I never said I didn't know about your fame, Roman. It's hard to ignore the news about you when it's all over the place."

"What I meant is that I don't really see women. I keep it casual."

"How modern and typical."

Roman's grinning now, and he looks down at the spot between us before looking back at my face. "In my defense, I just haven't met the right girl. Everyone's always after something. I don't want to be loved for what I have."

I didn't expect this kind of honesty from him. It's touching and a little sad. He gestures for us to head back inside, where dinner's waiting for us. "I made all of this myself, by the way. I thought you'd appreciate some homemade food."

"I'm impressed," I declare. He made a mouthwatering seafood pasta, and for dessert, a cheesecake. "I'm having a hard time believing that you made this, Roman."

"I've learned a lot along the way. I changed. Evolved. All that stuff's easier to do when you have the money for it. I had lessons with world-famous chefs."

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it was. Come on, let's sit over there."

Throughout our meal, we keep the conversation light, discussing college and superficial things, and I end up having two glasses of white wine. It's too much already. I'm not flat-out drunk, not in the slightest, but I'm definitely feeling a bit too warm and comfortable in the home of this man I haven't seen in years, who has a bad history with my brother, and who's looking at me in a way that makes me want him to do sinful things to me.

This isn't right. It's not even healthy.

I take the last sip of my wine and say, "You know what? We haven't discussed the charity once."

"Of course we did. You're here after all, right? That means you accept my offer."

My heart sinks a little at this, and he takes note of my expression right away. "What's stopping you? Is it Mason? Did you tell him you met me?"

"No, I didn't," I admit. "He can't hear your name without throwing a fit. I mean, I know he'll be mad if he finds out about this, and I explained to you how he supports me."

"Does that mean he gets to decide who donates money to a worthy cause and who doesn't?"

I sigh. "I don't know, Roman. I've never been this confused and torn before in all my life."

"That's because you're overthinking things. I'll make an anonymous donation, then. He won't have to know it's me. Does that make things better?"

I search his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

A beat of silence passes, and it's harder for me to breathe. My heart's pace is picking up, and he's so close that I can smell the wine on his breath. "I thought that would be obvious by now."

My stomach somersaults. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know, Nikki. Come on. You're not stupid at all. In fact, you're one of the smartest people I've ever met in my life. I admire you—I always have."

Roman's lips are merely inches away from mine now. This is too much.

"I have to go," I declare before standing up. My head spins a little but I keep going and hunt for my bag. Where did I put it?

"Nikki."

"I told you. Nobody calls me that anymore." Why am I so angry all of a sudden?

"You're not going to leave."

"What, are you going to stop me?" I find my purse and head toward the exit. He steps in front of me. I groan. "Roman, please. I have to go."

"No, you don't," he says, inching so close to me that I have to turn my face away so our lips don't touch. "You don't have to leave. What are you afraid of, Nikki?"

His arm goes around my waist, and my resolve weakens quickly. His lips find my neck, and a moan escapes me. Then, I shove his chest. I try to sidestep him and fail. "My brother would kill you, Roman. Hell, I shouldn't even be here!"

He moves closer, blocking the exit. "He's not here, and you're not telling me to stop, Nikki. So, why don't we stop lying to each other and admit the truth?"

I glare at him. My heart's slamming against my chest. "Which is what exactly?"

A wicked smirk curves his lips. "That we want each other. Always have. No matter how badly we shouldn't."

"That's not—"

His lips crash into mine, and I forget everything I was just about to say.

NICOLE

I go weak in the knees from the intensity of his kiss.

But I break it before it can go too far.

"I can't," I mumble before racing out of the door, across the small private lobby, and toward the elevator. My lips are tingling, and it genuinely feels like my body's on fire. I press the button frantically, needing to get away from him.

But Roman's right behind me.

"You don't have to run from me, Nikki."

I close my eyes and take a few steadying breaths. His hand moves to my shoulder and I look up at him. He doesn't look disappointed in the slightest, and it looks to me like he's hiding a smile.

"I'll walk you to the lobby," he claims.

The elevator door opens, and we both step inside, though his eyes haven't left my face, and vice versa. The door closes, and in the same beat, I feel suffocated. My heart's threatening to beat right out of my chest, and I have to squeeze my legs together tightly.

If I don't get out of here, I'll do something I'll most likely regret.

"Thanks for dinner," I manage to say, thankful I didn't stutter.

"No problem," he replies, leaning against the elevator and sliding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. I avert my gaze and wait to reach the parking lot.

The seconds feel like minutes.

Finally, the elevator stops and the door opens. I look at him and step toward the exit. "Good night."

He doesn't answer me. Before I even step foot outside the door, he grabs my arm and pulls me back inside. A huff escapes me as he slams me against the wall. "Roman—"

My thoughts become a tangled mess as his mouth claims mine possessively. I kiss him back, dropping my purse and putting my hands on him. I'm aware of the elevator door closing, meaning I've missed my chance to go home, but right now, I don't care.

I don't care about anything that doesn't involve kissing this extremely handsome man I've had a crush on for the better part of my existence.

"Thought you could leave?" he practically growls between kisses. "You're not going to walk out of my life, Nikki. Not ever again."

His words send shivers all over me that make my skin pucker. I find myself thinking that this moment isn't at all similar to the one we shared years before. His strong arm curls around my waist, pulling me so close to him that my breasts are squashed against his hard body.

I shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong.

But God, nothing has ever felt this right before.

I part my lips for him and he dips his tongue inside my mouth. Our tongues touch and send electricity to every part of me. My core tightens with need and I kiss him back hungrily, forgetting all about my desire to leave moments ago.

I can't think. I can hardly breathe.

His hand fists the hair on the back of my head and he gives my head a tug to separate our mouths. Even the feel of him pulling my hair turns me on.

"Tell me to stop and I will, Nikki," he murmurs against my lips. "Last chance."

I move my hands from his chest to his face, pulling him closer to me. He chuckles, and the sound travels all the way down my spine, excitement spreading through me. His lips are back on mine, and his tongue sweeps across mine while his hand cups my ass.

The elevator door opens again. We're back on his floor.

I give my head a shake. He smirks, then bends his knees while his hands slide to the backs of my thighs. A escapes me when he lifts me up. Effortlessly. We walk out of the elevator and toward his door.

I'm far gone now. There's no turning back.

Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms go around his neck. The hem of my dress is practically bunched around my hips, so my body's pressed against his firmly.

His mouth never leaves mine and the kiss is messier and more desperate than it was before as he walks through his penthouse. I'm assuming he's carrying me to his bedroom. The last warning bell rings in my head—my mind's desperate attempt to knock some sense into me. I ignore it when he kicks his bedroom door open and says against my lips, "You're soaking wet, Nikki. Is that for me?"

He lowers me onto his bed, and I desperately try to catch my breath as he stares at me intensely. My gaze darts to his lips—so wet and full. Heat coils low in my belly and I know there's no stopping now.

His gaze rakes over my body, and a low curse escapes his lips. I'm propped on my elbows, and when I follow his gaze, I see what he's staring at. The crotch of my red lace panties is wet. He must have felt it when my legs were wrapped around him and I was covertly rubbing myself against him.

I should be ashamed, but I've never been more turned on in all my life.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth and runs his thumb over the wet spot, missing my clit by an inch. My teeth sink into my bottom lip. "You've been wet for some time now, Nikki."

He's right. Fuck, he's damn right.

I was wet the moment I walked through his door.

His eyes meet mine—they're so full of life that everything else seems so dull. Am I really here, on Roman Hayes' bed, with his hand right over my pussy?

"Roman," I whimper.

His thumb moves up just slightly, barely where I need him. A low moan escapes me as I part my legs for him, needing more.

Again, he clicks his tongue. "So needy, Nikki. Tell me, when was the last time you've been fucked?"

I don't want to talk about that. Why are we talking about that?

Roman stops, and my eyes fall open. He's smiling at me, flashing me all his perfect teeth. "My bed, my rules. You answer my questions, Nikki. All of them."

"Like six months ago," I answer breathlessly, wishing he'd keep on touching me.

"Yeah?" His eyes darken a touch. "By whom?"

I'm a blabbering mess at this point. "My boyfriend. My ex."

After a beat, his thumb is firmly pressed against my throbbing clit once more, and I shudder with pleasure. "Did he please you?"

I know if I don't answer, he'll stop and I don't want him to. "Sometimes."

He sucks in a breath, and I close my eyes and tilt my head back, rocking my hips. "Eyes on me, Nikki."

Our eyes lock just as tension coils low in my belly, building fast. I moan his name, moving frantically, needing that sweet relief. Roman's eyes grow hungrier and hungrier, and I'm almost there. I'm almost—

He stops, and I gasp in shock. His mouth settles over mine before I can say anything else, and his teeth sink into my bottom lip before his tongue collides against mine. I pull him closer, needing his weight on me.

But he breaks the kiss to say, "Do you know how hard I've dreamt of this moment? Do you know how many times I've fucked my own fist, imagining that it'd be your sweet, little pussy?"

I swipe my tongue along his filthy mouth, losing myself in the moment. His lips find my neck, and I moan when he sucks the delicate skin. "You want to come? Tough luck, Nikki. I'll take my sweet, fucking time with you."

I'm perched on the edge of his bed, and he kisses his way down my chest. My nipples are tight little buds pushing against the material of my dress. He tugs the thin straps down my arms, exposing my breasts to him.

"Perfect," he growls before licking the underside of my left breast. I throw my head back and moan in reckless abandon. My breasts have always been so sensitive.

His fingers dig into my hip as he flicks his tongue over my nipple, teasing me until I have my back arching for him. He sucks my taut flesh until I'm gasping his name. My finger disappear into his thick mane of dark hair. My senses go into overdrive.

"Roman," I moan as he goes lower and lower, leaving a wet trail along the curve of my abdomen.

I close my eyes and the world around me blurs as I give in not just to him, but everything I've tried so hard to resist. All I can focus on is the pleasure and not the fact that I shouldn't have been here to begin with.

There's no turning back.

And I wouldn't even if I could.