Chapter 138
-ROMAN-
I was upset with myself.
One text. One fucking text from Olivia, and I had driven like I was the Fl driver instead.
Record time. Hands tight on the wheel. Luca’s name in my head the whole way down the coast.
I had told Ethan I could not come.
Then she threatened to put Vescari in my room, and I was on the highway before I had a decent excuse. I had not even packed like a man with a plan. I had thrown clothes in a bag and left the city like the threat was already pulling into the driveway.
Thankfully she was not in a bikini when I walked in. Oversized jacket. Soft shorts. I could breathe.
Maybe the bikini was underneath. I did not let myself think about that. I put my bag in the room that was supposed to stay empty and stood under the shower too long, pissed that a message had moved me faster than my own promise.
She was insane enough to do it.
That was why I had taken no chances.
When I went downstairs, Tessa attached herself to my side like a small, determined magnet.
“Volleyball,” she said. “Everyone is playing. You have to. You are tall.”
I did not mind. A game might clear my head.
Something to hit. Better than standing in a hallway thinking about Olivia’s mouth. Better than replaying the deal. Better than wondering how long I could stay in this house without finding another reason to kiss her.
“Fine.”
We walked out onto the beach.
Then I saw her. Olivia. In a tiny black bikini.
Tiny. Black. Bikini. Olivia Monroe in two pieces of fabric that should have been illegal in any state that contained me. The jacket was gone. There was no mystery left.
I stopped walking.
Sun on her skin. Glitter on her body or oil or sweat. I couldn’t tell. It was simply fucking glowing.
The same body I had against a wall, now almost bare in front of her entire family. She was not the girl in the hoodie from the summers I used to survive.
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She was all woman. Grown. Soft where I had put my hands. Waist I had held. Breasts the scraps of black did nothing to hide. Legs. Hips. The curve of her ass when she turned to say something to Blair.
She was so fucking desirable it hurt.
I stared. I couldn’t help it.
I knew I was staring. I could not stop. My brain kept refusing to listen.
I wanted to put a towel around her. I wanted to take the bikini off with my teeth. Both thoughts arrived at the same time and neither was acceptable with Ethan twenty feet from the net.
I coughed.
Choked on absolutely nothing.
Heat crawled up my neck. My face went hot. I had to look away before I got hard on an open beach in front of William Monroe and the ocean and Ethan.
Fuck.
I was screwed.
Tessa stopped beside me. “Roman.” She squinted up at my face. “Why are you red? Are you okay?”
“Sun,” I said. Too fast. “Came out of the house too quickly.”
Tessa frowned, unconvinced, because Tessa was going on detective mood. “You were inside for twenty minutes. Do you need water?”
“I’m fine.”
“You are red.”
“I am always red after a long drive.”
“Sure.” She pointed at the net anyway, already moving on because volleyball was her favorite. “You are on our side. Olivia is across. Blair is sitting out because of the baby. Grayson is with them. Try to remember that I must win this. Every game.”
I stared at the water like it could save me.
It could not.
Olivia glanced over. I felt it without looking straight at her. If I looked straight at her I was going to map every inch of that bikini again and my body was already doing math I could not afford.
She tucked hair behind her ear. The motion lifted her chest. I almost swore out loud.
I had raced here to keep Luca out of a bedroom and walked straight into the exact torture I had turned the weekend down to avoid.
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Olivia in a black bikini.
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Grown. Womanly. So fucking desirable I wanted to drag her behind the house and finish what I had started against her bedroom wall.
I wanted my mouth on the ties at her hips. I wanted to know if the fabric was as thin as it looked. I wanted her under me in the sand with her family none the wiser, which was insane, which was why I had said no to this trip in the first place.
Tessa tossed me the ball. I caught it on reflex.
“Serve,” she said. “And blink. You have not blinked since we left the deck.”
“I blinked.”
“You did not.”
Fuck. People were clearly noticing.
I served because I had to do something with my hands that was not reaching for her. The ball went over. Play started.
It was more of a warm-up.
I inwardly groaned. Every time she jumped I died a little. Every time she bent to pick up the ball I had to look at Grayson, at Tessa’s hair, at anything that was not the black triangle between Olivia’s thighs.
Ethan shouted something encouraging. He was on her side. I looked at her and saw the girl who had told me to kiss her and then opened her mouth like she had been waiting her whole life.
I missed a bump. The ball dropped in the sand at my feet.
Tessa threw her hands up. “Tall people are supposed to be good at this.”
“I play basketball.”
“Then play volleyball today. You are staring at the ocean as if it owes you money.”
I picked up the ball. I did not look at Olivia. I looked at the net. I looked at Ethan. I looked at the house behind us and thought about the room I had put my bag in, and the text that had put me on the road, and the fact that I had come here furious and was now something worse.
Hungry.
Angry at myself for being hungry.
Hard under shorts I was grateful were dark.
“Roman,” Tessa said again, after the next point. “Are you sick?”
“No,” I said. “Need water after this warm-up.”
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She accepted that with a shrug. “Fine. Just try a little harder. We can’t let them win!”
Olivia rotated closer to the net. Sweat at her temple. Ties at her hips shifting when she moved.
I had had those hips in my hands in a parked car. I had had those breasts under my palms in her bedroom. Now the whole beach got the outline and I was supposed to bump a volleyball like a man who had not tasted her.
I had already told Tessa yes.
I could not take it back.
So I stayed on the sand, red, serving when I was told, and tried to remember I had come here to keep another man out of a room in this house.
I had succeeded.
I had also walked into a weekend where Olivia Monroe in a tiny black bikini was going to live in my head every time I closed my eyes.
Luca would have been simpler.
This was the torture I had chosen.
And I still could not bring myself to look away for long.
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15:00 Thu, Sep 17
Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.