"There's a word I found recently. Evanescence. It made me think of you. It made me think of us. Were we just a dream, Sebastian?"
TW : Key themes of suicide and trauma.
WARNING: This is Book Two. Please read "affluenza" first to avoid any spoilers...
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THERE SEEMED TO be an unspoken agreement between Roman and me once we got home from the beach and everyone was talking about going out to lunch. I feigned a headache, he claimed he'd gotten too much sun, and in the end, we had the house all to ourselves. I was practically giddy as I shut the door behind my friends, turning to Roman instantly. He grins wickedly as I run up to him and slide my hands around his neck, bringing his lips onto mine.
Roman's mouth crushes mine with so much force that I would've stumbled back if it weren't for his hands holding onto my waist, his fingers rough and firm as they dig into my sides. A low moan that I don't remember deciding to make leaves my lips and that only seems to spur him on as he slides his tongue into my mouth easily. I meet him halfway, digging my nails into his cropped hair and feeling like I'm floating the entire time.
Our lips part for just a moment as Roman brings his lips to my neck. A shudder racks through me as he sucks on my sweet spot and I ball his shirt up in my fist, feeling completely and utterly drunk on him. "Should we go to your room?" he breathes, his voice lower and raspier than normal.
"What makes you think I want to have sex with you?" I pant, a harsh breath leaving my lips after every word. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. If his lips weren't still dancing on my neck, I'd be worried I was asthmatic.
Roman chuckles darkly. "Are you saying you don't?" he asks. I don't respond, my mind far too muddled to come up with some witty comeback.
Roman's lips suddenly leave my neck and then I'm no longer holding his body either. He pulls away and takes a few steps back until his back hits the wall. I glare at him. "The hell are you doing?" I spit, suddenly feeling cold from where his lips had been before.
Roman only smirks at me. "I'm all about consent, Braylen. If you don't want to have sex, then we won't."
"I never said that," I respond, crossing my arms across my chest as my stomach flips inside out. Couldn't he tell how badly I wanted him?
"You never said that you do," Roman responds easily.
I stare at him. "You're being ridiculous."
"Am I?" Roman asks, pushing himself off of the wall and grabbing my hand instead, quickly turning me so it's my spine pressed against the wall and his arm caging me in. Goosebumps raise on my arms and I can't seem to catch my breath again.
I gnaw on my bottom lip. "Yes," I breathe, my voice sounding far too needy for my liking.
Roman's fingers grab my cheek, his hands slowly tilting my face up. He takes a fingertip and runs them along the outline of my lips, tracing them slowly and leaving me close to panting. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard, should it?" he asks, pouting his lips in a way that makes me want to kiss him again. "You asked me to kiss you last night, didn't you? What's the difference now?"
