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I cup the back of her head and whisper, “I’m sorry I didn’t get here faster.”
“It’s okay.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No, just said some stuff.”
I look over at Connor’s smiling face. “What did he say?”
“Let’s just go inside,” Emily says, but when she tries to move, I tighten my grip on her, refusing to let her go.
“Baby, I need to know what he said.”
She sighs and whispers, “Chelsea told him about what she heard in the bathroom. He called me a whore and told me that when he and I get married, he’ll make me pay for being with you. He said I’m embarrassing him since everyone knows our families want us to marry.”
“I give you my word, solnishka, I’m going to fucking kill him for what he’s just said to you.”
“Roman, no, he’s not worth it.”
“No, sweetheart, but you are.”
I kiss her head once more before squatting down so I’m closer to Connor’s level. “She will never be yours.”
“Everyone knows she’s supposed to be mine.” He takes a few steps closer in some sort of sad attempt at trying to look threatening. “She’s going to get bored with you, and then she’ll be mine. I’m not crazy about sloppy seconds, but knowing how much it’s going to piss you off to see us together will help me to look past a used pussy.”
He laughs, and my hand instinctively starts to reach for my gun. The feel of Emily’s small hand on top of mine is what calms me enough to not splatter this fucker’s brains all over the goddamn pool.
“If you come near her again, I will kick your smug, khaki-covered ass. And if you ever dare to touch her, I will break every bone in your goddamn hand. Don’t fuck with me, Connor. You’re in way over your head with me.”
I can see the fear that flashes in his eyes when he sees the truth of what I’m saying in mine. He knows I’m not like the trust-fund douchebags he usually surrounds himself with. They won’t ever get their hands bloody, whereas mine have never been clean.
“Whatever,” Connor finally says, stepping into the deep end so he can tread water. “She’s not my type anyway.” He gives a snort of a laugh that is supposed to be a jab at Emily, who apparently doesn’t pass muster, but it just comes out sounding sad and pathetic. “Chelsea was more than happy to get on her knees for me earlier, and her dad is almost as powerful as yours, Emily.”
“You two will make a wonderful couple,” I tell him. I don’t add that I’ll be killing him way before he has a chance to propose.
Grabbing Emily around the waist, I keep her close to me as we go back inside. It’s almost time for the fireworks, and I’m more than ready to get off this damn yacht from hell.
Chapter 8
Emily
Roman’s hand grips my hip, pulling me tighter against him as we walk back inside so I can get a towel and put my clothes back on. It’s almost fully dark now, and I think we’re both ready for this night to be over.
“What did my dad say?” I ask, pulling my shirt back on.
“He heard that I was at the club.”
I look up at him, waiting for more. When he doesn’t elaborate, I ask, “And? I could see you talking to him. I know you didn’t like what you were hearing.”
He smiles and hooks a finger under my chin. “I’m very good at wearing a mask, solnishka. You saw nothing of the sort.”
“I know you,” I tell him. It’s insane considering how short of a time I’ve actually known him, but I know this man. I know him in a way that scares the hell out of me because it feels so natural, so right. It’s terrifying how fast I’m falling for him, but I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. “It wasn’t anything that you were outwardly doing, but I got the distinct impression that you weren’t loving whatever my dad was telling you, so what was it?”
He smiles down at me, his full, kissable lips making me immediately think of how good they’d felt on my pussy, and when my breath hitches, his smile grows.
Leaning closer, he whispers, “Thinking about me eating your pussy, baby?”
“Don’t change the subject,” I tell him, but my words are shaky and too breathy to take seriously.
