His Possessive Pursue (18+)

Chapter Two

WARNING: Graphic content and swearing and dirty talks! If you're below 18 and know what's good for you, get out! But then again, it's your choice ;)

Enjoy reading!

Chapter Two

"What are you doing here?" Shock doesn't even cover what I'm feeling right now. Standing in front of my humble one bedroom apartment, is Roman De Luca. His 6'3" frame almost fills the doorway. He doesn't have his suit anymore, and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck, with the top of his dress shirt unbutton. I never see him this casual before and I admit I like the look of this on him.

I notice he doesn't look at my face, rather than the expose cleavage under the robe. I immediately covers it with my hands, feeling embarrassed. "Did you do this a lot?" his voice sound strained, like he's mad.

I look up, because without the heels I stand a good 5'6". His expression is clouded with anger and I almost gasp. "Do what?" I ask.

"Opening doors to guys with only your robe. What are you thinking, Valentina? This place isn't safe," He exclaims. I'm shocked that he's suddenly getting angry, then after it sunk in, it's my turn to get annoyed.

"First, it's not any of your business about what I wore when opening doors to people. Second, you make it sound I do this all the time. Which is insulting. Third, I looked at the peephole before opening to any doors. Now, I'm asking you again, what the hell are you doing here?"

Roman's nose flares and he's taking deep breaths as to calming himself down. We just stare at each other for a few minutes, which is not awkward at all, when he finally speaks, "I asked you to wait for me."

"I did, right to the end of my farewell party. You didn't show up."

He nods, holding back a sigh. "I apologize. I got out as soon as I could."

"It's fine," I say, lowering down my voice, now knowing he do want to see me again. Why else he's in front of my apartment? Awkwardly I ask, "Do you.. do you want to come in for a drink?" What am I doing? I never invite a guy to my apartment before.

Roman stares at me, a sexy grin tuck at his lips before nodding. Oh, I'm done for.

Having Roman in my tiny living room is sort of ridiculous. One, he's too big to be here, and two, he looks so out of place it's funny. A person his caliber shouldn't be here. He inspects the whole visible area, and I wait in silence, waiting for him to judge my living situation. One bedroom apartment in New York is as good as a studio apartment. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it's so small we could barely fit a few people here. I'm ready to get defensive when he say, "This is quite nice."

"I don't know if you're being sarcastic or not."

"I'm not," He says straightforwardly.

"Well thanks. Take a sit, I'm going to boil the water."

As I head toward the kitchen, which is only a few steps away, he suddenly grabs me by the wrist and turns me around gently. I spin to see Roman, staring at me, like he always does, with his dark blue eyes. "I don't actually want that drink."

"Then why are you here Roman? What exactly do you want from me?" I ask, my voice strains, half-aroused and half-mad. He better thank the Lord I actually have nothing to do tomorrow – or today basically – or I'd throw a fit for not getting my beauty sleep.

He answers softly, "I don't want anything from you. I just want you."

I gulp because of the intensity of his words. Stop it, Valentina. This is Roman De Luca we're talking about. He can't possibly be wanting more than a night. "Just for one night, correct?"