LOL: Laugh Out Loud (After Oscar, #2)(58)

“How much do you think it costs to have your own waterfall?” I asked without turning around or moving out from under the wide tumble of hot water. “I’m asking for a friend.”

“Hmm,” he said, running his hands down my sides. “I feel a bit put on the spot like when the presidential candidates are asked about the price of a gallon of milk.”

I tilted my head to the side, giving his lips better access to my neck. “Well, I’ve never bought a full gallon,” I told him. “But a half is just under three bucks at my local market in Queens. The problem is, you can’t get out of there without buying a Reece’s Cups which is another dollar. So really, milk is at least four bucks.”

The now-familiar rumbling laughter made its way through his chest to my back. Roman reached past me to find a bar of soap on the shelf and used it to slick up my chest and stomach. Just looking down at his large, capable hands against my skinny body made my dick stiffen again. I’d seen these hands pull the trigger on machine guns in a war movie and caress the small of a woman’s back in a rom-com. I’d seen them clasp the throttle of an airplane in an action adventure film and gesture passionately to the jury in a legal thriller.

I’d spent so much time the past couple of days seeing Roman as just regular Roman that when I was suddenly struck by the fact he was the Roman Burke, it took me by surprise. And honestly scared the fuck out of me.

I was playing with fire.

And living in a fantasy world.

But as long as Roman himself was fine with it, I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

I turned to slide my soapy self against him, front to front. Roman’s hands instantly found my ass and started kneading it. He slipped a thick thigh between my legs again and I began to ride it, imagining sinking onto his big cock in bed and riding him instead, not that I had the energy for that.

I looked down to see water sluicing down his thick erection, soaking the dark brown curls at the base of it, and dripping off his heavy, low-hanging sac. I swallowed a moan and slithered down his body until I was on my knees before him, dragging my tongue along the hot water on his hard cock.

Roman’s hands landed in my wet hair as he gasped and grunted his gratitude. My tongue danced along his length, circling the head and teasing him before I looked up and met his glassy eyes.

In that moment he was all mine. It wasn’t fantasy; it was real.

And I was going to drink it all down as long as I could.





18





Roman





Grand Theft Auto: Special Stowe Edition



The next day was blissfully calm. After I whipped us up some pancakes, we found Oscar’s office and used his computer to create a Western Union account so I could send the money to Scotty’s mom. With that out of the way, we had the entire day to ourselves—no obligations, no schedules, nothing. We took advantage of it, whiling away our time gaming, watching movies, talking for hours in front of the fire, and taking a couple of long walks outside with Nugget in the snow. It was glorious.

Lolo and Larry were conspicuously absent through most of it. The only trace of them was a bizarre rhythmic squawking sound that came from the direction of their room around lunchtime and was quickly followed by Lolo’s voice snapping out a tight, “Settle down.”

Scotty and I had exchanged startled glances across the kitchen table before both shaking our heads in a mutual silent agreement not to even speculate on what those two were up to.

It wasn’t until very late that night, when we were trying to get up the energy to relocate our lazy asses from the movie room to the bedroom, that the doorbell rang again.

We both looked at each other and groaned, “Fuck,” at the same time.

“That cannot be good, Spartacus,” Scotty mumbled from beneath the plush blanket we’d been snuggled under. “Nothing good comes through that door. Haven’t we learned that?”

I stood up and stretched. “Maybe it’s just Marigold looking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

“Or a fifth of vodka,” he said, pushing off the ground with a groan. “Or a bag of weed.”

“Or maybe it’s Lolo returning from burying Harry’s body,” I suggested.

“Larry,” Scotty corrected with a snort. “And the fact we haven’t seen those two today concerns me greatly.”

I reached for his hand to help him up, and he followed me up the stairs and through the house to the front door. “Oscar texted a while ago. Said those two were at the spa for mani-pedis.”

Scotty stopped and yanked my arm to get me to do the same. I looked back at him. “Can you please, once and for all, explain this spa shit to me? I thought it was a spa, then I thought it was a summer house, now it sounds like a spa again.”

“Does it matter?”

He blinked at me before shrugging. “I mean… I could go for a facial…”

I pulled him against my chest and gave him a lecherous look. “I can do that without you having to leave the house. All you have to do is ask.”

“Eww,” he said, pushing me away and laughing. “Don’t be crass. If jizz did anything good for skin, my right hand would be featured on the cover of magazines already. Here, feel it. Tell me if it’s soft.” He started poking and grabbing at me with both hands, and I swatted at him to get him to stop as I unlocked the front door.