Chapter four

No Last Names

NOELLE'S POV

Ten days.

That was the deal I made on the plane. Ten days of sun and salt and no thinking. Then back to real life.

Roman made that deal very difficult to keep.

Day Three

He found me at the edge.

Not literally. I was sitting on a flat rock above the water, my feet dangling and watching the sun go down. He came and sat beside me without asking.

We sat without talking. The sky went pink then orange then a deep red that had no business being that beautiful.

"What do you actually do?" I asked. "Not the title. The real thing."

He thought about it. "I find broken things and figure out if they are worth fixing."

"Companies?"

"Sometimes." He looked at the water. "Sometimes other things."

I did not ask what other things. I was afraid the answer would mean something.

The sun dropped. The air went cool fast. He put his jacket over my shoulders without asking and I let him.

Then he kissed me slowly and I grabbed his shirt and kissed him back hard and we stayed like that on the cliff edge with the whole Aegean below us until neither of us could breathe.

He laid me back on the flat rock. The sky above was dark blue and full of stars. His hands moved over me.

"Someone could see us," I said.

"Someone could," he agreed, but did not stop.

I stopped worrying about it thirty seconds later.

He pushed my dress up. His fingers found me. I grabbed the rock with both hands and looked up at the stars and thought. This is the most alive I have felt in years.

When he pushed inside me I arched up to meet him and he groaned low against my neck and I stopped caring about everything else.

Not Derek. Not home. Not the days running out.

Just this rock, this sky, and this man.

Day Five

He was in the kitchen when I came downstairs.

I stopped in the doorway.

The resort apartment was beautiful. High ceilings, warm stone floors, a kitchen that cost more than my car and looked like it was actually used. Floor to ceiling windows. The Aegean sitting blue and enormous beyond the glass.

Roman moved towards me. His shoulders relaxed. His dark hair still damp from the shower. Every time he reached past me for a mug the heat of his skin brushed mine. It felt deliberate.

My pulse spiked.

"Sugar?" he asked. His voice low.

"No," I said. Though I wanted to say yes to anything that kept his attention on me.

His eyes tracked the small tremor in my fingers as I lifted the cup. I hated that he noticed. I loved that he noticed.

"You're wound tight, Noelle."

He stepped closer. His face close to mine. I closed my eyes.

I heard him chuckle. Heat rise to my neck. I thought he wanted to kiss me. I cleared my throat and turned away.

He didn't let me. He pulled me back to his chest.

"Tell me what you need," he said.

"I don't need anything."

His knuckles skimmed the inside of my wrist. "Lie again and I'll stop asking."

That cracked me open.

"I need," I said slowly, "to not think for a minute."

"That I can give you."

He didn't kiss me right away. He bracketed my hips and lifted me onto the kitchen island like I weighed nothing. His palms slid under my thighs. The cool stone met bare skin. His fingers hooked under my chin and tilted my face up.

"Still good?" he asked.

I nodded.

The first kiss was patient. He tasted of coffee. My lips parted. His tongue swept in slowly and I stopped thinking.  A small sound escaped. He answered with a low growl that vibrated down my chest and settled between my legs.

His hands moved to my buttons. Each one felt like a small confession. Fabric fell away. He looked at me and said, " you look edible."

Heat flooded me.

He lowered his mouth to my collarbone. Sucked. Then harder. Marking me on purpose. The pull went straight to my nipples. He peeled the lace down and his tongue swirled. He tugged on my nipple with one hand and bit the other.

His free hand traveled down. I gathered my skirt. His fingertips met the damp panel of my underwear and he groaned against my breast.

"Fuck, Noelle."

Hearing that word from him,  rough and reverent at the same time, finished off whatever was left of my composure. I spread my thighs wider.

He dragged the fabric aside. One thick finger traced my slit slowly. My hips jerked. He repeated it. His eyes on mine, watching every flicker on my face.

"So sensitive," he breathed. "I could do this for hours."

"Please." The word came out cracked open. My  pride completely gone.

He slid two fingers inside and curled just right. I clenched around him. He pumped slowly, a twist at the end that scraped his knuckles against my front wall. Each thrust pulled a gasp out of me. Louder. Thinner.

"Look at me," he said.

I forced my eyes open. His were dark. Blown wide. Two fingers deep and his gaze even deeper.

He withdrew. Hooked his fingers into my underwear and pulled it off, tucking the scrap into his pocket like it belonged there.

"Lie back."

I lay back on the cold stone. He spread my knees and put his mouth on me, no preamble, no warning. Just his tongue flat against me. He licked and sucked and learned me fast, what made me gasp, what made my legs shake.

When he sucked my clit between his lips I cried out and grabbed his hair and held on.

The orgasm hit hard. Long. My back arched off the stone and I said his name until it broke apart in my mouth.

He kissed the inside of my thigh after.   Then he straightened and wiped his mouth and looked at me with dark eyes.

"Your turn," I said. Voice hoarse.

Something flickered across his face. Then he unzipped his jeans and his cock sprang free — thick, curved upward, the silver barbell through the head catching the light.

I slid off the counter and dropped to my knees.

I took my time. Tongue up the underside. The barbell cool against my lips. I took him into my mouth and his breath hissed and his hand came to my jaw, not pushing, just holding, like he needed something to anchor him.

"Look up," he said.

I looked up.

"Noelle—" His voice cracked. "If you keep that up—"

"Do it," I said. And took him deeper.

His control broke. Both hands in my hair. The barbell hitting my tongue. His groan scraped out of his chest and then he was coming and I took all of it and stayed until the shuddering stopped.

He pulled me up by my arms and kissed me hard before I could stand. Tasting himself on my tongue. Not caring even a little.

My legs had stopped working. He lifted me back onto the island.

He rolled a condom on. I watched his hands. He caught me watching and his mouth curved.

Then he stepped between my thighs and pushed inside — slow, deep, the piercing dragging against every nerve ending — and when he was fully in, he stopped and looked at my face like he was memorizing it.

"Roman—" I whimpered.

"I know," he said. And moved.

Long strokes. Then harder. The barbell hitting the same spot every time. The stone was cool under my palms. His hands were everywhere. I wrapped my legs around him and stopped trying to be quiet.

I came with my face buried in his neck and my nails in his back.

He followed right after. Buried deep. Groaning against my throat.

We stayed tangled against each other for a long time.

Outside the windows the Aegean glittered blue and completely unbothered.

I pressed my forehead to his shoulder.

Five days left.

It wasn't enough.

It was never going to be enough.