The Dare Collection: July 2018. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
place, so post up wherever you like.” He turned back to select two bottles from the wall behind him.
Roman didn’t want to sit, but standing there and hovering while the guy made his drinks wasn’t going to win him any goodwill. He had enough people pissed at him currently, so he strode to the middle lounger and dropped into it.
Lazy streaks of color teased the darkening blue of the sky, the first sign of day giving way to night. Roman welcomed the change even as he dreaded what it meant. Another day down. Another night closer to failure.
It might not be the end of the world if he didn’t secure Allie’s cooperation in franchising her gym model, but her gym would go under. He’d seen the financials. She couldn’t keep it afloat much longer, and it’d be a goddamn tragedy to see it fail. He knew she didn’t look at it that way, but if she’d stop fucking reacting and listen to what he had to say, she might see things differently.
Right. Because I’ve been the very essence of calm and collected.
Her rejection stung. He wasn’t about to lie and say it didn’t. It sure as hell did. She hadn’t just rejected the professional persona he displayed for work—she’d rejected him. The sex changed things, for better or worse. Looking like for the worst at the moment.
The bartender brought his shots over and lined them up, quickly followed by his drink. Alcohol wasn’t the best choice—not when he needed to be sharp and fully present—but he wasn’t going to be around Allie tonight, and the rest of the island could sink into the sea for all he cared. Roman downed one shot and then the second. The fiery burn of whiskey did nothing to chase away his... He didn’t even know what the fuck to call what he was feeling. It wasn’t pleasant—that was all that mattered.
Women’s voices carried over the beach, and he tensed. Before she walked around the corner, Roman already recognized Allie’s voice. She stopped short when she saw him, but Becka rolled her eyes and gave her friend a small shove. “Enough, already. I get it—he’s a jerk. I won’t even argue with you.” She winked at Roman, not looking the least bit repentant. “But I want a drink, and this is the quickest way to get what I want.” She gave a brilliant smile to someone behind Roman. “Hey, gorgeous. Can we get something fruity and alcoholic?”
“Sure thing, ma’am.”
Becka launched into how horrified she was to be called “ma’am” while she walked to the bar, but Allie stopped at the foot of Roman’s lounger. “You ran off pretty unexpectedly.”
He gave her body a slow caress with his gaze, from her bright pink painted toes to her yoga pants to the tank top that offered her breasts up to perfection. “I was preoccupied.”
She inhaled sharply, and he didn’t miss the way her nipples pebbled against the fabric of her shirt. “Don’t play games with me. It happened. We’re done. End of story. Stop bringing it up.”
“I didn’t bring it up.” He climbed to his feet slowly and then closed the distance between them. “A word.”
“Excuse me?”
“We need to have a goddamn conversation, so get your panties out of a twist long enough to unstopper your ears and hear what I have to say.” He grabbed her hand and towed her into the growing shadows beneath the palm trees framing the walkway to the beach. Roman didn’t stop until they were out of sight of the bar and far enough away that Becka’s flirting with the bartender was barely audible. Only then did he release Allie and turn to face her. “Now, where were we?”
* * *
Allie was so furious, she could barely put two words together. “You don’t get to just decide that we’re having a conversation and haul me out here to do it.”
“If I was going to haul you anywhere, it’d be over my shoulder.”
Her body clenched at the thought of him doing exactly that, but she fought her reaction back. “You are insufferable. Do you know when the last time I had a vacation was? Ten goddamn years ago when I was still in freaking high school and on spring break. Ten. Years. Becka had to twist my arm to get me here, but I was enjoying myself—”
“I know exactly how thoroughly you were enjoying yourself.”
She ignored that because if she tried to deny it, she’d be a red-faced liar. “That changes nothing. The point is that I’m not enjoying myself now, and the only one to blame for that is you.” She went to push him back a step, but her hands had a will of their own. They stayed on his chest, and she sucked in a breath at how warm his skin was. The man might be a corporate suit, but he looked perfectly at home in his shorts without a shirt on here in the growing darkness near the beach. It was almost enough to forget all the reasons she never wanted to see him again.
Allie stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Nothing you say can make me believe you’re anything but a goddamn shark.”
“Who said I’m trying to convince you of anything?” The words brushed her mouth as he leaned down, just a little. “I am a shark, Allie. I’ve never pretended to be anything else.”
She started to call him a liar, but he was telling the truth. He hadn’t tried to seduce her with sweet words to get her into his bed—he’d offered her exactly what she wanted in as many words. Black-and-white. Simple.
It wasn’t simple at all.
“I despise you.”
“You want me.” His hands rested lightly on her hips. “It tears you up inside that you crave my cock, but you can’t fight it no matter how hard you try.” He backed her up, step by slow step, until she bumped a tree. Roman kept coming, the side of his face brushing hers. “Did you think about how good it’d feel to have my fingers sliding into these yoga pants?”
“No.”
“Who’s the liar now, Allie?” His lips caressed her earlobe. “I’d love a private yoga session. Just us. No friends, no instructors, no clothes. How long do you think we’d last before I was on my back and you were riding my cock?”
She couldn’t breathe. Her skin felt too tight, as if it were several sizes too small, and her core pulsed in time with her racing heart. “I would never—”
“No, Allie. No more lies between us. You’re pissed that I’m here—I get that—and you’re even more pissed that you want me. Trust me, I know the feeling. I was never supposed to fuck you, and if I’d known who you were...”
She leaned back enough to look at his face—or what she could see of it in the darkness. “If you’d known who I was, you wouldn’t have gone there with me.”
Roman cursed. “Even if I’d known your name, that wouldn’t have stopped me from wanting you. Needing you.”
She stroked her hands down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. “Do you need me now?”
“I never stopped.”
This was the worst idea. She needed her head clear, and it was nothing but muddled around Roman. He was too big, too beautiful, too overpowering. Even now, she leaned forward, the few inches between them too much distance. He let her, his hands on her hips branding her—but not trying to guide her. Allie inhaled deeply. “Do you drug your cologne? Because, seriously, how am I supposed to think straight when you smell so good?”
He chuckled. “I’m not wearing any.”
He was gorgeous and a god in the bedroom, and he had to smell good naturally. Because of course. “I don’t like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
She could argue that, but it didn’t feel completely accurate. Allie traced the waistband of his shorts with her fingers. She shouldn’t...but she was going to. She unbuttoned his shorts and slipped her hand in to grip his cock. “I don’t have to know you—I know this.”
“You’re