Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
And not only are we together, but we’ve been straight-up monogamously dating for three weeks now. Three weeks of Rome calling me, texting me, sending me flowers.
So many flowers.
Would you ever think of Rome as a flower-giving guy? Me either, but he is. He also sends sex toys, real kinky stuff. That didn’t surprise me.
I see him almost every night. Sometimes we talk about business, but most of the time we just talk. He told me all about how he started Roam, Inc. from the ground up like I’m trying to do with Fresh Minted Designs. He told me about his parents and his childhood growing up in Upstate New York and his dream to live in the city one day. He told me about his relationship with Hunter, and why he still loves him even though he drives him crazy most of the time.
I feel like I know more about Rome than I ever thought I would, and what’s the best part about all of it? Apart from the mind-blowing sex? When I come into the office, he’s all business. We talk strategy, go over mock-ups, and work like professionals. It isn’t until he slaps me on the ass and kisses me before I leave that I remember we’re a couple.
It’s like I have the best of both worlds, and I still can’t fathom how I made it all work. With a silly little email joke on my thirtieth birthday. Crazy how things work out sometimes.
“You know, I’ve lived in the city for years and never once have I ever stopped at a street vendor’s cart and bought any type of food from them. Not even a drink.”
“It’s because you’re a snob.” I lift his hot dog to his mouth. “Now eat up, it’s not going to kill you.”
“The guy had cheese dangling from his beard when he served this to us.”
I shrug and take a giant bite from my dog, savoring the flavors of the rich onions. “Hey, don’t count the guy out. Cheese Beard really knows how to make a good hot dog. This thing is delicious.” I lift the hot dog even farther and press it to his lips. “Go on, eat.”
He doesn’t open his mouth. Ugh, he really is a snob.
“Rome, it’s good. Try it.”
“I think I’m okay. You can have mine.”
I place my hand on my hip, frustration hitting me hard. Not only is he a snob, but he’s also stubborn. “Rome Michael, if you don’t eat that hot dog right now, I will never give you another blow job again.”
Just as the words come out of my mouth, an elderly couple decked out in designer clothing walks by, giving me the stink-eye. I give them a quick salute followed with, “Kids these days, right? Talking about oral sex in public, sheesh?”
They both make a disgusted sound and scurry away, clearly insulted by my crassness. Oh well.
“Was that necessary?” Rome asks.
“Don’t change the subject. I will never put my lips on your dick again if you don’t eat that hot dog.” I run my fingers up his thigh. “And you know the kind of orgasm I can give you with just my tongue. Remember last night . . .”
How could he not? Last night was so incredibly hot. I took him in my mouth in the shower, made him sit on the little bench, and I blew him for what seemed like ten minutes. Every time he got close, I would edge him out, never fully letting him come until I was ready. I’ve never seen him so angry and turned on at the same time.
Groaning, he relents and takes a big bite of the hot dog, cringing like a baby the whole time. Slowly his face starts to relax, and I can see that he actually enjoys it even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
“Good, huh?”
He purses his lips to the side, acting like the hot dog “ain’t no thang” when we both know it’s heaven on our tongues.
“It’s all right.”
Liar. I poke his side causing him to laugh as he tries to dodge my finger. “You’re such a stubborn man.”
Capturing my finger in his hand, he tugs me closer to him and places a sweet kiss across my lips. “I might be stubborn, but at least I’m your man.”
So freaking true.
“When did you switch from hard-ass to softie?”
“I’m still a hard-ass.”
I shake my head. “Not with me. It’s like I hit a soft spot with you.”
Growing serious, he brings his hand to my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I hate to admit it, but you did hit a soft spot. I think you hit that soft spot the minute you wrote that first email.”
“Yeah, made that soft spot turn hard, huh?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Get it, I’m talking about your penis.”