Page 15 of When In Rome

“I don’t want to lie to my sister. I don’t…hell, I don’t want to lie to your sister either. People will be able to tell we aren’t…like that because of how we fight and argue with one another. No one will believe this.”

“Really, because that woman just believed it and what’s even better, she thought we were in here doing something incredibly kinky because your little ass was tied to a chair.”

She gasps and I wonder if she never thought of that or if she just now realized how kinky it did look to the woman.

“Oh my God! That woman thought we were…”

“Yeah. You were kind of tied to a chair, babe. What was she supposed to think? But it does prove that, yes, we can pull this off and people will believe it and it will be such a big help for me. I would owe you so much.”

“I don’t…I don’t want you to owe me. I…,”

“You could even tell your sister we aren’t together like that. Your sister and mine. You could tell them both that it’s just to keep people away from me and keep women like my mother from starting shit.” That has her really considering the prospect. I start tracing little circles on the side of her thigh with the tips of my fingers. “And it would only be for as long as you want to stay. Like if you had to go back to your parents or something, we would call it over.”

“And I wouldn’t have to…do anything with you. I mean, you wouldn’t expect anything that I’m not willing to give you.”

“Absolutely not.” I wait for my words to sink in, and I feel her relax against me. She’s almost ready to say yes. “But you would have to live with me.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nolia

“What?” I push against him to put space between us. He tightens his hold on me so I can’t find that space. And I was just beginning to think maybe…maybe I could help him out. All he does to answer me is raise his eyebrow, mockingly.

“What kind of….? Why?”

“Well, technically you are already staying with me so it wouldn’t really be a big shake-up or anything. And it would definitely just be easier if you did stay with me.”

“At the hotel suite? Where you take all your mistresses?”

I wiggle in his lap, not really meaning to say that. It doesn’t matter to me if he has mistresses coming out of his ears. It’s none of my concern. Even if it has been something I have been worried about from the very beginning.

“I think it’s pretty safe to say if I had mistresses I wouldn’t have any need for you, now would I?”

“Maybe you don’t think they are acceptable or right for the job.”

“And you are? With that mouth and those death stares? Not to mention that woman is probably telling the entire floor that I am a dominant, kinky bastard who likes his woman all tied down so I can do who knows what kind of racy, sexually explicit things to them. I think we left acceptable behind when we started wrestling with one another on the floor of my penthouse half naked.”

“We were not half naked!”

“Baby, you only had a small ass tank top that was so thin I could see your fucking nipples through it and a pair of itty-bitty panties that hid nothing.”

I gasp at every word. I didn’t think…well, it hadn’t ever occurred to me that he could see so much of me.

“Oh my God…did…you don’t think anyone else…? I mean…Roan was…God, I guess I’m thankful you tied my legs together before tying me to that chair leg. Oh shit! You…fuck…”

I try to stand up off his lap, not being able to sit this close to him knowing he got a good look at what was between my legs when he first tied me up. Instead of being allowed up so I can run and hide, the only option I have is to burrow into the folds of his shirt.

“Okay, first of all, I like the cuddling. Second of all, Roan didn’t see a goddamned thing because I made sure to stand in front of you the entire time. And lastly,” he speaks really soft and low and close to my ear, “you bet your sweet little ass I saw everything, every dip and curve, every soft swell, which is why I changed the way I tied you up.”

“Oh my God!” It comes out all muffled. He saw…everything.

I feel him tug at the bottom of my skirt which has risen up to the top of my thighs.

“This is really pretty. What is it called?”

“What?” I unbury my head to try to figure out what he means. His fingers fiddle with the hem. “A, um, dress.”

“Just a dress?”