Page 44 of Hate On

But he’d agreed to a truce and he was coming over.

Some part of her worried that maybe this was another trick of his, that he’d pull something like he’d done the other day, inviting her over and then after a quick, hard fuck, kick her out—or rather, he’d have to walk out since she’d insisted he come over to her place. But despite her doubts, she didn’t think that was the case.

There’d been something in his voice, something she hadn’t heard before.

A hesitancy of sorts. Uncertainty. Maybe even what she felt?

She didn’t know.

“Any stops you want to make on the way home, Ms. Castle?” John asked from the front seat.

“No, John. Straight home,” she told him, turning her head to look out at the streets of midtown Manhattan as they drove on. “I’m expecting company.”

“Very well.”

* * *

Once she gotinside her condo, she raced to her bedroom, stripping clothes off as she went. She’d worn a pretty green and white pantsuit to work, but it wasn’t the sort of clothes she wanted to greet Roman in.

She walked into her closet and stood in the middle of it, wearing champagne-colored lingerie and checking out her clothes with a keen eye. She didn’t want to look like she’d dolled up for him, but she wanted to look sexier than hell.

Decisions, decisions.

In the end, she stripped out of her bra and went with a jumpsuit just a few shades darker than the panties she still wore. It was heavier material so the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra wasn’t immediately obvious. The piece was clearly meant for lounging around the house as it was a skinny-strapped, blousy piece, but it was both comfortable and sexy…and it made the most of her eyes, while making her pale skin glow in a subtle sort of way.

Best of all, it was easy to peel off of her if he decided that was what he wanted to do.

After pulling it on, she gathered up the clothes she’d stripped off and dumped them in the hamper she used for dry-cleaning, then rushed into the bathroom. A quick pass of a brush restored her hair and she pulled out her makeup kit to restore her lipstick and freshen up the rest of her face.

She added a spritz of perfume and was done.

It took all of ten minutes and then she was back in the living room, pacing the floor. It had been thirty minutes since she’d talked to him. He’d said he had a stop to make. How long would the stop take?

When the hell was he planning to show—

The doorbell rang and she jolted.

She started to rush to answer, but slowed her pace. She wasn’t a school girl. He made her feel like she had with her first crush in high school and wasn’t that just silly?

Forcing herself to walk at a moderate pace, she reached the door just as he rang the doorbell a second time and opened it with a smile on her face.

The sight of Roman standing on the other side was enough to make her heart race and she found herself leaning toward him without any conscious thought to do so.

He met her halfway, though, and that made it okay.

His lips came down on hers softly, the kiss a sweet, tender one. “Hey,” he murmured when she would have pulled back. Curving one hand over the back of her neck, he held her close. “Do that again.”

So she did, parting her mouth for him when his tongue stroked across the seam of her lips.

He made a rumbling sound deep in his chest and it was enough to make her heart skip a few beats.

Reaching up, she curled an arm around his neck, tugging him closer. He stepped inside and they two-stepped away from the door, Roman fumbling awkwardly to close it.

But just as it clicked shut, he broke the kiss and lifted his head away.

Her heart raced as she clung to him. “Hey.”

He pressed his brow to hers, staring at her. “Hey.”