Page 84 of Mister Gregory


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He pulls back a fraction to drink in my face under the dim light. "God, Mila... I've missed you,” he murmurs, sweetness tinging his voice.

His gaze drops where I’m touching him. A shudder rips through him at the sight of my hand wrapped around his hard length. But his long fingers grasp my wrist, firmly prying my hand from his cock.

I whimper in protest. I wasn’t nearly finished with him.

One dark brow arches up, the devil lighting his eyes. “Did you think I forgot?” he practically purrs, sliding my down his body until my feet hit the floor. “On your fucking knees, baby.”

I drop, all too willing to obey this command.

“You’re really here,” he says well over an hour later, watching me from across the living room as I prowl around, looking through all his stuff.

He doesn’t have much of it. Unlike the house in Santa Cruz, this one is…sad. Empty. There are no photos of Tahani on the walls, no personal touches. Aside from the books lining the shelves, it’s as if no traces of the man I’ve fallen in love with exist inside this house.

He warned me, but I don’t think I understood exactly what it meant. He doesn’t have a life here. He lives in the shadows, hiding everything that matters to him. He’s lived this way for so long now.

It breaks my heart for him.

“Are you very mad?” I ask, peeking at him over my shoulder.

“Fuck no,” he growls. “I barely slept last night because you weren’t in my arms, snoring in my ear and stealing all the fucking covers.”

“I do not snore.”

A smile ghosts across his lips. “But you admit you steal all the covers?”

“Maybe,” I mumble. I absolutely steal all the covers. He keeps the bedroom freezing! He shouldn’t make it so cold if he wants to be warm. He can suffer on his own. I’m not doing it for him.

His smile grows. “You skipped your interview.”

“They canceled.” My brows furrow. “I guess they hired someone else they interviewed. I didn’t see a reason to wait until the day after tomorrow to come so I decided to surprise you.” I look up at him through my lashes. “You made me sad last night.”

“Well, fuck them for canceling on you. And thank God you came early,” he says, pushing away from the wall to stride toward me. “But how’d I make you sad, baby?”

“You looked sad,” I say softly, staring up at him. “Lonely. I didn’t like it, Roman.”

He tugs me into his arms, resting his chin against the top of my head. “I never realized how goddamn lonely my life was until you turned it upside down. You’re supposed to be right here in my arms, Mila. It’s where you belong.”

He’s right. This is where I belong.

I just wish Tahani would give us a chance to show her that too. Because as much as I love being in his arms, doing it without her at my side feels wrong. She’s my best friend and his daughter. She’s supposed to be in our lives.

What the hell am I supposed to do if she doesn’t forgive us?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mila

Tahani, I'm sorry.

"This sucks," I mutter, glancing from the phone in my hands to my reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door. My expression is grim, my green eyes full of regret as I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. My blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of my head, and my face is pale. My oversized t-shirt hangs off one shoulder.

I look sad and pitiful, not at all like the warrior Roman says I am.

I don't feel much like a warrior lately.

It's been ten days since Tahani found out about me and Roman. Ten days of radio silence.

"It's your own fault," I remind myself, looking back down at the phone in my hands. I sigh heavily and climb to my feet, pacing back and forth across the deep red rug and hardwood floor.

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