The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(123)

Nothing about this case has turned out the way I thought it would in my head. Nothing I thought about Roman Anthes jives with the man I’m slowly falling in love with. I’m losing sight of my purpose. I’m supposed to be trying to save my brother. I’m supposed to be getting proof against Roman. I’m not sure I can do that now. I don’t think I want to do that now. And my brother, he hates me. He hates that I’ve kept stepping in and trying to save him. He hates that I became a cop. There’s so much bad blood between us, but I can’t sit by and let him die. If there’s a chance he’s out there and I can save him, I have to do it.

When the limo comes to a stop, I can’t make myself leave Roman’s lap. It doesn’t matter anyway because he holds me tighter and carries me from the limo. We don’t talk in the elevator either. I reach up and link my hands behind his neck and rest in his hold. It’s been a day and I’m emotionally spent. I don’t think I can take any more tonight. I will think about everything tomorrow. I will try my best to clear my head and plan then. For tonight, I’m going to get lost in Roman.

He carries me straight into our bedroom, placing me gently on the bed. He crouches down in front of me, pulling me around so my feet are on the ground and slides my shoes off. Once he’s done with that, he cups my neck and strokes his thumb across my cheek, a move so familiar that I’ve come to crave it, producing a feeling that I feel down in my soul. “I’ll be back, pet,” he tells me, and I have to smile. I still hate that damn nickname, but when he says it with that smile, I want him to say it again and again. This magic he works on me defies explanation.

He disappears into the bathroom and I flop back on the bed and breathe for the first time since Roman saw me talking to Paul. I have this urge to tell Roman everything. How would he react? It would feel good to come clean. I think what Roman and I have is real. He’d understand.

Roman comes back in before I completely convince myself. I need to think about it. What I’m contemplating has a lot of repercussions, least of all compromising my future as a cop and, ultimately, detective. I thought that was what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.

“Stand up, pet.”

I look up to see Roman reaching for me. My hand goes in his and he pulls me from the bed. He turns me so my back is to him. The sound of the zipper on my dress sliding down is the only noise in the room. It seems unnaturally loud. His hands encircle my neck from behind. My pulse automatically jumps and a tight ball of desire curls in my stomach. He brushes his hands down my shoulders on each side, snagging my dress as he goes. The dress slides down my arms and cool air hits my chest as it falls to a puddle at my feet. I swallow because, as many times as I’ve been with Roman, this feels momentous. I don’t know what the shift is between us, but it’s there. He kisses the back of my neck at the base of my spine as his hands come around my sides to meet at my stomach. They fan out, following the line of my hips. His lips continue to leave a trail of kisses down the vertebrae on my back to the point that I know he’s on his knees behind me. The idea of Roman Anthes on his knees while worshipping my body runs a giddy thrill of pure joy through me. It settles in my heart. It cements there, taking up residence.

This is real, what Roman and I have. This can’t be all about sex. It feels too different.

When I feel his teeth bite into my hip, a moan of pleasure escapes my lips. I turn so I can look down at him. He’s captured my thong in his mouth and pulls it down from my body, his dark eyes watching me the entire time. My heart beats triple the speed in my chest and every feminine part of my body clenches, preparing for an explosion. This man is lethal. He unhooks my garter, slowly rolling my stocking down one leg. I brace myself on the bed as he lifts my foot and removes it before starting on my other one. Each touch, each fleeting kiss grabs hold of me, refusing to let me go.

By the time he’s done, I’m completely naked and facing the bed, which seems to be his plan because he stands up behind me. I feel his hot breath graze across my skin. His hands hold my upper arms against my body and he places a kiss on my shoulder, his tongue tracing my collarbone. When he reaches my neck, I automatically tilt it to the right, giving him better access. His tongue paints a path from my shoulder to my ear and back down. Then I feel his teeth bite gently into my neck, capturing the vein that is throbbing crazily, betraying my excitement. He sucks that into his mouth while his teeth knead the skin and my knees go weak.

“Stretch out over the bed, Ana,” he orders.

His voice causes tremors of excitement to run through my body. I do as he asks, trying to control my breathing. He walks around to the other side of the bed and I look up at the man who is slowly owning my soul. He’s holding his tie in his hand. He has this look on his face that if I wasn’t already on fire for him, I would be with just that look. I reach my hands out to him, expecting him to tie them again, even wanting it. I love the feeling I get when I am completely at his mercy.

“No, pet. This evening’s lesson is all about feeding your senses,” he tells me.

He takes the tie and secures it around my eyes, tying it. I’m immediately enclosed in darkness. The silk material glides against my closed eyelids and I breathe heavily, wondering just what comes next.

I go a few minutes without Roman’s touch. For a bit, it feels like he left the room. The heady energy that is uniquely Roman is gone. Then I hear his footsteps. It sounds like he is pacing around the three sides of the bed, and I can almost feel his gaze on me. With each minute that passes like this, my anticipation wars with my nerves. I start to smell the faint scent of cherry in the air. After a minute or two, it gets stronger.