Promiscuous (15 page)

She smiled and wrapped her arms around me. Her head rested on my chest as my hands stroked her head.

I kissed her softly. “Sleep well.”

Chapter Seventeen

Beth

My eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight streaming through the partially closed curtains nearly blinding me. I sat up, realizing this wasn’t my room. I glanced down, relieved to find that I was dressed in my tank and panties.

Roman. Lying back down, everything from the previous night came back to me, from me freaking out, to explaining to him that I’d been raped. I cursed myself. Why had I told him? Now he had even more reason to treat me like a victim. At least he didn’t know how recent it had been. He had assumed it had happened a year ago, and I let him believe that.

Grabbing hold of the bedspread, I pulled it over my face and groaned.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I peeked out from my blanket fort. Roman stood beside the bed, a mug in his hand and a bemused expression on his face.

“Um, just regretting last night,” I said truthfully.

“What’s to regret?” he asked, sitting down beside me. He placed the mug on the bedside table. “Oh. You regret telling me.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said. What was the point in lying? “Well, okay. Yes. Look, I like you. I like that you make me feel like normal Beth. I’m worried that this will give you even more reason . . .” I stopped, not wanting to come across as ungrateful. I liked that he wanted to look after me, I really did, but at the same time, I needed to get my independence back.

“And you think I’ll treat you differently now?” he guessed.

“Won’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Reaching for my hand, his fingers entwined with mine. He leaned down, his lips melting into me. All my fears dissipated with that one kiss—a long, sensual passionate kiss.

“Beth, when you’re ready to move this forward, I’m ready. In the meantime, I’m going to take my time getting to know every single part of you.”

I whimpered softly, closing my eyes as his fingers trailed over my tank, stopping at my panties. God, that felt so good. I went from hot to cold in a matter of seconds, and I hated it. The way he touched me just now had made me feel incredibly sexy, yet last night I’d totally freaked out.

“Have your coffee. I have to go out for a while, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.” He stood up, staring hard at me once more.

“Roman?” I said as he walked out.

He turned.

“Thank you.”

***

I woke up a few hours later, surprised that I had fallen back asleep. I felt the bed beside me for my phone. A text from Ivan. No, wait—two texts from Ivan.
Great
.

I grimaced as I clicked “open,” my heart racing. What the hell did he want now? It wasn’t enough that I had to put up with him at work, but now he was bothering me on my days off?

You have a reading in LA next week for the movie. Have you read the script? I suggest you learn the first few scenes. We don’t want you fucking this up.

“I haven’t even agreed to audition yet,” I muttered, clicking on the second text.

And I’ll need you to do me a favor while you’re there.

What was I, his fucking assistant? He could run his own damn errands. I was about to flick the phone back on the bed when I saw I had an unread email. I clicked on it.

Beth,

I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you. I’m giving you the space you need, but please remember I’m here if you need me. I miss my friend.

Love,

Coop

I miss my friend.
Boy, did I miss him too. But we couldn’t just go back to how things were. Too much had happened.

I stared at the email. I so badly wanted to call him. With everything that was going on, and now Roman . . . I needed someone to talk to. I needed my friend back. I clicked reply.

The blank screen stared back at me. What was I supposed to write?
Hey, okay let’s give it a go?
After all the pushing away I had done, now I turn around and want him back?

I miss you too. I want things to be the way they were, more than anything. Can we start slow?

I hit send before I could change my mind. Had I really just done that? I wondered what now. If he called, or wanted to meet, could I handle that? Probably not. Eventually, but not yet.

I climbed out of the bed and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Making my way downstairs, I found the kitchen and made myself a fresh coffee. My email was on loud alert, but that didn’t stop me from refreshing it every ten seconds.

I turned on the TV and sank down on the sofa, stretching myself out as I ran over the possible responses from Coop.
Hurry up and reply already
. My phone began to vibrate. Gingerly, I picked it up. Sure enough, there was a text from Coop.

You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me. As slow as you want, Beth.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Texting is good. I can handle that.

A surge of relief flooded through me. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Fixing things with Coop gave me hope that I might actually be able to move on from that night.

So . . . how are you doing?

I laughed. How was I doing? Things were pretty shitty. But they were better than they had been a couple of weeks ago.

I'm okay. I'm sorry. About everything. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did.

He replied right away.

I'm just glad you're talking to me now. Or at least typing to me.

I laughed, setting my phone down. For two months I had pushed him away. He made one mistake; but the only person to blame for what happened that night was Ivan. I was beginning to realize that.

***

Just after lunch, Scarlett came home, her hands filled with shopping. She gave me a friendly smile, but I could see she felt as awkward as I did. I felt obliged to sit in the kitchen and attempt conversation as she unpacked. Which was hard, because I couldn't look at her without remembering her naked with her fingers inside me. And that made me want to cringe.

"So, are you and Roman close?" I asked. Hell, I'll admit it: I was curious to hear her view on their relationship. These things didn't always match up.

She snorted. "I've known him for a few years, but I would barely call us friends." She turned to me. "He's a very private man. He's been through some things, and I think he finds it hard to open up sometimes. But he's a good guy. A good guy who has made some wrong decisions in the past and learned from them."

What did she mean by that?
Wrong decisions
—that sounded very ominous. I didn't ask any more, I just sat there thinking about all the wrong decisions I'd made in my life. Who was I to judge?

"I better get going," I said. I stood up and grabbed my bag. "It was nice seeing you again."

"You too, Beth. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

***

"Did you have fun?" he asked me.

I nodded. I always had fun with him.

Since our 'talk' about the rape, he had been super patient and supportive. I always made the first move, and I felt confident that if things went too far, he would stop. That trust meant the world to me. I trusted him like I did no other. Having someone know about what happened was a relief. It was no longer just Ivan and I who knew, and in a weird way, that made me feel stronger—like he had less power over me.

***

I invited him inside. After a coffee, I led him into the bedroom.

Slowly, I began to unbutton his shirt. He gazed down at me, lifting his hands to catch my wrists.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Beth. Not yet. Not until you’re ready."

"What if I
am
ready?" I pouted.

"Then a little longer isn’t going to hurt, is it?"

"It's not like we haven’t had sex before," I protested. "And if things get…hard, I trust you to stop."

He shook his head. "Not tonight." He curved his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me. His lips felt amazing against mine. This was doing nothing to ease the need I had for him. "I'd love nothing more than to be inside you right now, Beth, but the next time I do that, its going to feel right."

I pulled away from him. Why did I feel rejected? Staring at him, I lifted my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. He breathed in sharply as he took in my body. I reached behind my back and unclipped my bra, letting that, too, fall away.

"You may not want to have sex with me," I began, walking over to the bed, "but you can’t stop me from touching myself in front of you."

I had him, and he knew it. I could tell from the look of desire in his eyes and the way his jaw had tensed. Slowly, I peeled off my panties and kicked them aside. Kneeling on the bed with my legs parted, I began to touch my bare pussy.

"You like this?" I asked him, dipping my finger inside myself.

"You're not playing fair, Beth."

I let out a little moan as I rubbed my breasts, squeezing my nipples as I worked my finger in and out of my wet pussy. He moved toward me at a snail’s pace, his eyes not leaving mine. The effect my little performance was having on him was obvious by the large bulge in his pants.

I smiled as he lowered himself down to me.
I won. Don’t mess with Beth.

But then he placed a soft kiss on my forehead and smiled at me.

“Goodnight, Beth,” he murmured, his eyes laughing at me.

My mouth dropped open. I watched him leave my room, closing the door behind him without so much as a glance back at me. I threw myself back on the bed, so angry. I snorted—angry at what? Finding the only guy in the world who refused to rush into sex with a rape victim?

How could I possibly stay angry at him? The answer was I couldn't.

Chapter Eighteen

Beth

A day without seeing Roman was like a day without oxygen: I struggled to survive. He’d had things to do, apparently, that didn’t involve me.

Studying myself in the mirror, I nodded with satisfaction. Let’s see him pass on my advances tonight. The intercom buzzed, and I raced to let him in. By the time he reached my door I was ready, my purse in hand and my feet slipping into my heels.

“You look stunning,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss me.

I grinned. With no clue where we were headed, I’d thrown on a silk dress that hung just above the knee and a pair of strappy heels.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked as we walked to his car—if you could even call it a car. The sporty, black, metal contraption parked in my driveway was not his usual transportation, and it must have cost a fortune.

“Impressed?” he asked as he opened the door for me.

I shrugged. “You’re talking to one of the highest earners in the country last year. Material things don’t impress me.” I smirked.

He raised his eyebrows as he pushed the door shut. “So, what does impress you then, Beth?”

I thought for a moment. “A man who knows how to treat a woman. Someone who thinks before they act. Someone who thinks of others before they act.”

“That shouldn’t be something that impresses. That should be standard behavior.”

“Unfortunately, not all men see it that way.” I shrugged, determined not to put a damper on our night. “So, where did you get the car?”

He laughed. “Mine is being serviced. This belongs to a friend.”

“Nice friend,” I joked. “So, where is it we’re going?” I asked.

Roman smirked at me and shook his head. “Be patient. You’ll find out soon enough.”

I sank further back into my seat and pouted. I didn’t like surprises. The only surprises I’d received growing up were bad ones. Like the time Mom’s boyfriend got high and slayed my pet dog in the living room. Walking in on that at age ten wasn’t a good surprise.

Or when he’d try to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night. Nothing ever happened, thank God. He’d always passed out from the alcohol as soon as his head hit my pillow, but that didn’t stop me from sleeping with a knife under my mattress, just in case.

I glanced over at Roman, who was concentrating on the road. His dark hair was cropped short against his tanned skin. His jaw twitched as he focused, oblivious to my attention. I smiled and turned away, leaning my elbow against the door of the car.

We pulled up outside a small burger shack. I screwed up my nose, glancing down at my twelve-hundred-dollar outfit.

Roman chuckled. “I told you, you look stunning.”

"Maybe, but I think I'm a bit overdressed."

"So undress then," he said with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but couldn't help but smile. "You wish," I shot back.

"You're right, I do."

I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, following him into the diner. We were seated at a booth near the door. I slid across the wooden seat and reached for a menu. For once, I was actually starving.

"What do you recommend here?" I asked him, poring over the offerings.

Double beef and bacon cheeseburger.
The thought made my mouth water.

"It's all pretty good. I think I'll go with a ranch special. You?"

"The double beef and bacon burger?" I asked, blushing.

"Well, someone has an appetite," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows at me.

I shrugged. “I like my meat,” I replied.

He raised his eyebrows and I blushed. I knew exactly where his mind had gone.

Our dinner came out and we chowed it down. It was surprisingly good. I’d even stopped caring about being overdressed; I was just focused on Roman and the great time I was having.

“Dessert?” he asked with a smile.

“God, no,” I groaned, clutching my stomach. “I think I ate a whole cow just then.”

“I’m actually impressed you got through the whole thing,” he laughed.

So was I. And now I was regretting it. My stomach made a weird gurgling noise. I looked up, horrified. Roman began to laugh hysterically.