Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Instead, I stumble toward the bathroom, determined to give him what he needs.
"I still think I could live in here," I mumble to myself when I step into the bathroom.
When I told Roman that the other night, he laughed at me, but it's true. The room is easily the size of the dorm Tahani and I shared at Berkeley during our first two years there.
A big whirlpool tub sits in a nook across from the double vanity. The glass shower is the biggest I've ever seen, with multiple showerheads. The back wall of the bathroom is a soft gray tile with little flecks of turquoise embedded within. The entire floor is tiled similarly. The toilet is separated from the rest of the room by a low wall, making it more private.
I shower quickly before doing my hair and putting on a little makeup. I never wear much, but I opt to do a smoky eye and bronzer before finishing off the look with ruby red lipstick. Once I'm satisfied with my appearance, I step back out into the bedroom to dress.
Like his bedroom in Santa Cruz, the one here is decorated in dark, masculine colors. The furniture is jet black and looks heavy as hell. The walls are a deep red with framed black and white art hanging here and there. Deep red rugs, the same shade as the walls, cover the hardwood floors. A massive bed with a black leather headboard sits in the middle of the room, facing a set of French doors that lead out onto the balcony. The bed is every bit as big as the one at the condo, maybe even bigger. Sleeping on it is like sleeping on a cloud.
Roman pokes his head into the room as I stroll toward the closet, running my hand along the top of the dresser. He's dressed in a white button-down and jeans and looks so handsome that my heart races when I catch sight of him. The shirt stretches over the muscles in his chest and arms. He grins when he sees me, raking his eyes up and down my body.
"If you don't get your sexy ass dressed soon, I'm going to forget we're going out, baby," he warns me with a shake of his head.
I stand there for a minute, smiling at the way his eyes heat before he walks away, and then hurry across the room to the walk-in closet.
It takes me another fifteen minutes to decide what to wear. I finally pick out a black wrap dress that ends a little above mid-thigh. The top plunges between my breasts but doesn't reveal anything. The dress is sexy and daring without looking trashy. I've never worn it before, but I want Roman to see me in it. I want to make him crazy.
Strappy red heels that wrap around my ankles and give me three extra inches of height complete the look.
"He is going to lose his mind." I grin at my reflection in the mirror, grab my keys, and then toss them into a small handbag. I turn in a circle, looking for my phone before remembering that he never returned it to me.
I check my reflection again, fluff my hair, and then go downstairs to find him. I hold tightly to the banister on my way down. After I fell down the stairs in Santa Cruz and injured myself, he was afraid to fuck me for days. No way am I risking a repeat of that torture.
"Roman?" I call when I make it to the bottom of the stairs unscathed.
He doesn't answer me.
Where is he?
I peek into the living room. The television is off. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the far wall, crammed with books from every genre. A big, black suede recliner sits in front of the bookcases. A matching L-shaped sectional with big, comfy throw pillows rests against the wall across from the television, with a giant ottoman in the middle of the floor. I smile when I see the pillows are still in disarray from where he stripped me naked and made me ride him last night.
"Roman?" I call again, heading toward the kitchen.
I find him inside, leaning casually against the counter while he toys with my phone.
"Are you going to give that back?" I ask softly, stopping in the doorway.
"Eventually. I was actua–" He glances up at me. As soon as he does, the grin slips from his lips, and the words die in his throat. His hazel eyes rake across me, hot and hungry again. His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip, and he swallows hard. "Jesus Christ," he breathes.
"You like?" I grin at him, my stomach fluttering at his reaction. I'll never get tired of the way he looks at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. I'm thick and curvy, a size twenty on a good day. My body is far from perfect, but I'm happy with it, and I've never cared what anyone else thinks, though they have a lot of opinions. When he looks at me like he worships me, though, I feel like a goddess. I love seeing that look on his face.