The hot tub! That’s right. We got into the hot tub, and I…oh jeez. I got in wearing just my bra and panties. I do vaguely remember climbing on Roman’s lap and kissing him but don’t recall if I was wearing anything or not…probably not. Then, he was touching me between my spread legs, easing a finger inside while another rubbed my clit until I… Oh yeah, I came so hard for him I’m surprised an earthquake wasn’t reported in the area. God, it was freaking amazing, that part I do recall very clearly. After that, though, I don’t remember anything before I woke up feeling like crap this morning.
But despite the blankness of some of my memories, I have no doubt that Roman was a complete gentleman who didn’t take advantage of my drunken and horny state. He probably just carried me to bed and tucked me in.
Oh, but I definitely remember how long and thick he was underneath me in the hot tub. He was as hard as a rock, and I didn’t even touch his dick once while he got me off easier than turning the key on his bike. So apparently, I’m not just a slutty drunk; I’m also a selfish drunk.
Having put together the pieces of the night before, I’m finally ready to get a shower and face the day, even though things will probably be awkward with Roman from now on. How could they not, now that he’s seen me act like a fool and touched me so intimately? I’ve messed everything up, thrown the whole “take things slow” declaration I made right out the window, making myself seem like the biggest hypocrite in the world.
All I want is to go back in time and not drink so much.
No, I can’t say that either. I enjoyed myself too much to wish it away. I think I would rather go back in time and reciprocate the gesture to even things up between Roman and I.
Since there’s no time machine sitting around, I guess I’ll have to do the next best thing – try and even the score tonight…
God, I wish I could talk to Tessa about this, about Roman, but I know I can’t. Right now, I need to focus on seeing her through to the other side of her trauma, not whining about something so trivial as my dating life or lack thereof.
So, for now, I’ll just have to go with my gut. And my gut says that there’s no reason I shouldn’t enjoy my time here with a hot biker while it lasts.
Chapter Fifteen
Roman
* * *
It’s only been four days since Tessa was kidnapped by four unknown men, but it may as well have been four decades. The longer it takes for us to identify them, the more time they have to get as far away from the Carolinas as possible. It’ll be impossible for me to get a good night’s sleep until all four men are dead and buried, unable to hurt another woman again.
Sitting at the head of the Savage Kings’ table, I read over our progress sheet Danny sent to try to figure out something we might be missing, another way to locate these fuckers since the police haven’t been worth a damn. Not that we want law enforcement to find them first. No, prison would be the easy way out and not punish them nearly enough for what they did to those four women, and possibly one other.
Unable to think of any new ideas, I call up Danny for the fifth time today from my seat at the head of the empty table to see if his team has found anything new, even though I know he would’ve called if they have.
“We’re working around the clock here, Roman,” he says when he answers the phone without even a greeting.
“I know,” I reply. “I just don’t like waiting around when I feel like I should be doing something.”
“Fine. If you want something to do, I can give you the names and addresses of the three vehicles we believe they’ve used. Maybe if you go by in person and talk to the owners or other people who were in the area, maybe you can find someone who saw one of them and could’ve gotten a look up close.”
“Let me have it,” I tell him, grabbing up my pen and turning over the back of the sheet.
“Give me a second to find my notes,” he says with a sigh just as a knock sounds on the open chapel door. I look over, expecting to find one of my brothers when, in fact, it’s Charlotte.
“Hey,” I say, surprised to see her here at the clubhouse. After last night and her reaction this morning, I thought she would’ve been hiding under the covers all day, refusing to speak to me because she was embarrassed. Standing there in a bright yellow sundress, the same color as her long hair, she doesn’t look like she’s ashamed at all. And there’s no reason she should be. Drunk Charlotte finally let me do to her what her body has needed for years.
“Hey,” she replies.
Wait, if she came by here instead of waiting for me to see her at the house tonight, something could be wrong.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” After that one softly spoken word, she shuts the door and then strolls casually over to my chair in her strappy white shoes, making me actually believe her. Charlotte is not the type of woman to hold back when she’s worried or stressed. In fact, she looks calmer and cooler than I’ve ever seen her. Well, other than last night when her head was thrown back and her lips were parted as she moaned with pleasure.
And just like that, my dick swells down my jean leg like I’m a horny, fifteen-year-old virgin.
“I’m, ah, just finishing up a call with Danny,” I tell her, dropping the pen to rearrange my cock so the hem of my jeans isn’t bending it the wrong way. “What are you up to?” I ask as her eyes follow the movement.
“Not much,” she says when she leans her ass against the table, putting me eye level with her stomach, her tits nearly spilling out the top of her dress. “I remembered last night,” she tells me, causing my eyes to finally lift to her face where her cheeks are growing a rosy red.
“You did?” I ask her with a grin.
“I did. And I remember I was selfish.”
“Selfish?” I repeat since that was the last word I would’ve used to describe her last night. Wild, sex-crazed, hot as fuck would be more appropriate.
“I owe you an apology,” she adds while I’m still processing the selfish comment.
“You do?”
“Would you prefer that I apologize with words or actions?” Charlotte asks.
Hold on. Is she flirting with me right now? She hasn’t really done that before except when she was drunk.
“Did you drive yourself here?” I ask in concern.
“Yes, why?” she asks.
“Just wondering if you’ve been drinking.”
“For your information, I’m totally sober. So, now will you answer the question?”
Apologize with words or actions?
I still don’t know what she means by actions, but Charlotte is like a nervous cat. The more you chase the nervous pussy, the more terrified it becomes and the longer it hides. You have to coax it out slowly which is why my balls are in agony right now, demanding I give them relief.
Before I have a chance to respond, Danny’s voice sounds in my ear. I forgot I was still holding the phone when he says, “Okay, I’m back.”
“Roman?” Charlotte asks.
“Ah, you decide,” I tell her.
“Decide what? I thought you wanted the names and addresses,” Danny says, his tone one of frustration.