Reading Between the Lines (Pt. 01)

I wasn't expecting to run into Roman, not that early, not before caffeine.

I had just stepped out of my apartment--hoodie too big, hair barely brushed, lips unmoisturized--when he opened his door at the same time. We both froze for a second, just long enough for me to feel a flush creep up my chest.

He nodded. "Morning."

"Morning," I squeaked back, adjusting the strap on my tote bag like it might hide me.

Roman always looked like he belonged in a black-and-white editorial. Quiet, serious, tall enough to make me feel extra short, even in platforms. And his voice was this deep, velvety thing that made my knees do weird things.

"We still haven't made time to talk about that book you were reading by the pool," he added, his tone casual but pointed.

I blinked. "Oh, right. We definitely should." Not. That book was 99% smut and there's no way I can talk to Roman about that.

His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile. "Let me know when."

We passed each other in the hall, and I had the sudden urge to look back--but I didn't. I had my usual Saturday plans: meet Lara at Caffeind, sip something overpriced, complain about my nonexistent love life.

Caffeind was already buzzing when I got there. The barista behind the counter was new. New and stunning. She had a half-unbuttoned flannel shirt over a tight tank, tattoos peeking from her sleeves, and hair so glossy it looked like it was styled for a photoshoot. When I'd placed my order, she leaned across the counter just a little. Her voice was low and warm.

"You're new here, right? Or maybe I just would've remembered you."

I laughed awkwardly. "Um. First time at this location."

She slid the coffee across to me with a wink. "I hope you come again."

I was still trying to process what had just happened when I turned to find Lara watching with an expression that could only be described as gleeful mischief.

"You are so dense," she said as I sat down.

"What?"

"That barista was absolutely flirting with you."

I shook my head. "No way. That was just... good customer service."

Lara rolled her eyes and broke off a piece of cinnamon roll. "She basically undressed you with her eyes. And you stood there like you were ordering tax documents."

I covered my face with one hand. "I don't know how to flirt!"

"Then consider this your training ground. Start with smiling like you're not terrified," Lara laughed.

I shook my head, but I was grinning. We spent the next half hour gossiping, sipping, and watching the barista--Jade, her nametag had said--who kept glancing over like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

Then Roman walked in.

He was in a long-sleeved black tee, sleeves pushed to the elbows, forearms distracting. He ordered black coffee--of course he did--and settled into a corner with his laptop.

I tried not to stare.

Tried.

"If your dry spell was any longer," Lara said, dragging her cinnamon roll through frosting, "you'd be eligible to join a convent."

"Thanks," I said flatly.

"I'm just saying. You need an adventure. Something to make you feel hot again."

"I feel hot sometimes," I muttered.

"Yeah, but usually because your apartment runs warm. Not because you're, like, dripping in confidence and sexual energy."

Fair.

We hugged goodbye, and she whispered in my ear, "Do something crazy this weekend. Just once."

--

I wasn't planning to drink that night. But the wine was already open. And when I got the package, everything changed.

It was sitting on my doormat. No label. Just my name in black marker.

Inside: tissue paper. And under that? Red heels.

I brought them inside, heart pounding.

No note. Just the shoes. Scarlet red. Classic stiletto shape, ankle strap, never-worn red soles. Sexy in a way I usually only let myself daydream about.

I texted Lara: "Did you send me shoes??"

She replied instantly: "I wish. Those are HOT. No idea who it was."

It wasn't her.

I turned the box over. Nothing.

Then a ping.

Roman: "Did you get the gift?"

My heart stopped.

I stared at the screen like it might answer the million questions flying through my brain.

He didn't send a second message. Just the one.

I wrote back: "Yes."

Then stared at it.

Then, inexplicably, went to my closet and stripped down to nothing.

I don't know what possessed me to put on the little black dress. The one with the deep neckline and the clingy fabric. The one I never wore out of the house.

The heels went on last.

I stood in front of the mirror. And for the first time in weeks... I liked what I saw. Curves, confidence, lips slightly parted. I took a picture. Then another. Then one without the dress.

My phone buzzed again. Roman: "Do you like them?"

I didn't respond.

Because I was already on the bed, legs wide, heels still on. The silk dress clung to the tops of my thighs, bunched at my waist, soaked from where I'd been fingering myself while the vibrator buzzed mercilessly over my clit. My cunt was dripping, lips slick and puffy, folds shiny with wet. I was flushed all over, tits heaving, pink nipples stiff, mouth parted. And in my head?

Roman's voice in my ear. Jade's mouth between my legs. Roman behind me, filling me up while I sobbed into her tongue. I was moaning already, breathless from how badly I needed--

Knock.

I froze.

The vibrator fell to the sheets with a dull thud.

Another knock.

Fuck.

I scrambled off the bed, thighs shaking, cunt clenching around nothing. My robe was draped over the back of the chair--I threw it on without thinking, didn't bother fastening it tight. My body still hummed with leftover tension. My lips were wet. My inner thighs glistened.

I looked through the peephole.

Roman.

Shit.

I cracked the door, barely managing a breathy "Hey."

He took one look at me--cheeks flushed, robe half-tied, hair a mess--and arched a brow.

"You didn't respond," he said, stepping closer, voice deep, casual. "So I figured I'd come check. Make sure they fit okay."

He glanced down. Heels. Nothing underneath the robe but heat.

They fit. Oh god, they fit.

"I was just--" I started, but he stepped inside, reached out, tugged the robe open with two fingers like it was nothing more than wrapping paper.

His eyes dragged over me, dark and hungry. "You look like you were about to come."

My skin lit up. I swallowed. "I was..."

He smiled--lazy and hot. "Good."

Roman didn't wait. He pressed me against the wall and kissed me deep, tongue sliding into my mouth like he already owned me. I melted instantly, moaning into it, grabbing at his shirt, needing him naked.

When he pulled back, his eyes ran over my tits, the swell of my belly, the curve of my thighs with something close to reverence. "You have no fucking idea what you do to me."

"Then show me."

His eyes flashed darker, but he didn't speak. Just sank to his knees at the edge of the bed and pushed my thighs wider.

Roman's mouth was heaven and sin. He licked me like I was the first meal he'd had in days--broad, slow strokes of his tongue, sucking my clit until I cried out. His grip was tight, possessive, fingers digging into my thighs to hold me down when I tried to jerk away.

"Stay still, baby," he said, voice muffled against my cunt. "You taste too good to stop now."

I shattered on his mouth, thighs trembling, hips bucking as he fucked me with his tongue and fingered me deep. My first orgasm ripped through me, sharp and unexpected, my vision going white.

Before I could catch my breath, he stood, stripped down fast--and fuck, seeing him naked made my cunt throb all over again.

His skin was so dark and smooth it looked like it'd been poured on. Hard chest, defined abs, thick arms I wanted to be held down by. And his cock... long, thick, with a curve that promised to hit every spot I didn't know I had. My eyes widened. My thighs instinctively opened wider.

"Like what you see?" he asked, stroking himself slowly, cock glistening at the tip.

"I... I've never had one that big."

He smirked, crawling over me. "You'll take it. I'll make sure of it."

The head of his cock slid against my soaked folds, teasing me before pushing in slow, stretching me until I gasped. The fullness made my back arch, breath leave my lungs. He paused halfway in, one hand brushing the side of my face.

"You okay?"

"More," I panted. "Please."

He gave me everything--one slow, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. I moaned like I was breaking.

"That's it," he groaned, jaw clenched. "Goddamn, you're tight. Pussy's gripping me like it missed this."

He started to move--slow at first, grinding his hips, letting me feel every inch. Then faster. Rougher. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, the bed creaking under us.

My second orgasm hit me hard, sudden and deep. I cried out his name, nails raking down his back, heels locked around his waist.

He flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and fucked me from behind, hard and relentless. The way he grabbed my ass, spread me open, groaned when he saw how wet I was, made me wild.

"You're dripping," he growled. "Made for me, baby. Fucking made to take this cock."

When he pulled out, I whimpered--empty and aching. He grabbed my jaw, turned me over, and tapped his cock against my lips.

"Suck it."

I obeyed, wrapping my mouth around him. He was too thick to take all the way, but I tried. He watched me gag, eyes burning, groaning when I drooled on myself, when I looked up at him with tear-glossed eyes.

"Good girl," he rasped. "Choke on it. Show me how much you want it."

I sucked him until my jaw ached, spit running down my chin, eyes heavy with lust.

He yanked me off, shoved me back on the bed, and slid inside again in one thrust. I was cock drunk now, legs shaking, moaning with every slap of his hips against mine. He reached down, thumb circling my clit again, and I came a third time, screaming his name, pussy clenching around him like a fist.

"Where do you want it?" he asked, voice desperate.

"Inside," I gasped. "Fill me up. Please, Roman--"

He groaned, buried himself deep, and came--hot and thick, filling me with pulsing heat, his head buried in my neck, body trembling.

We collapsed together, tangled in the mess we made--my robe somewhere on the floor, his cum leaking out of me in slow, warm pulses, the heels still on my feet like a crown I'd earned. My chest rose and fell fast, nipples sensitive from friction, thighs trembling from the stretch, the pounding, the aftershocks still twitching in my core.

Roman kissed my shoulder, slow and lazy, his hand sliding up to cup my breast with a satisfied groan. "That was overdue."

"You think?" I murmured, dazed, eyelids fluttering.

He nuzzled into my neck. "You really had no idea I was flirting with you, huh?"

I laughed--soft and breathless. "None. Zero."

"You're hopeless," he said with a smirk. "I basically bought a book cover to send you a signal."

I groaned and buried my face in his chest. "I thought you were just... literary."

He chuckled, fingers tracing up my side, lazy and warm. "Well, now that you've finally figured it out... maybe you'll start noticing when people flirt with you."

I tilted my head up, catching his grin. "Are you still talking about you?"

"Mm." He kissed my lips, slow and dirty. "I'm talking about that barista."

My cheeks flushed again.

"If you ever wanna add her to the fun," he whispered, voice low and smug, "you'll need to work on reading the signs a little faster."

I shoved him playfully, laughing. "You're impossible."

"Not impossible," he said, eyes dark and glinting. "Just forward-thinking."

I curled closer, the warmth of his body sinking into mine. And I thought about Jade's sly smile, the way she looked at me like she knew exactly how I tasted.

Yeah.

I was definitely going to work on reading the signs.