Page 35 of Heartfelt Pain (Ruling Love #3)

Roma

Uncle Dima: Answer your phone or the Barracuda is going in the harbor.

W hen his name flashes up, I answer.

“What the fuck did you do?” Dima’s rough voice asks.

I press the phone closer to my ear. I’m sitting on the couch, the TV playing. It’s a quiet evening; relaxing by anyone’s standards.

Dima’s huffy, bothered attitude tries to undo it.

“Is this about the car shop?” Is that why Dad’s called three times? I let him go to voicemail each time.

“The car what?” Dima asks. “What’s wrong with your garage?”

“No, I’m. . . what’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” Dima blasts. Usually, this level of sarcasm is left to Elijah. “Ren Callahan is closing up shop.”

My feet hit the floor, though, I don’t stand yet. “She’s what?”

“What the fuck is this, Roman?”

“You called me,” I point out. “What do you mean closing up shop?”

“She’s put the word out,” Dima explains, “and now people are saying she’s selling the business.”

“Okay.” News to me.

“Okay?” Dima’s frustration is palpable. “Okay, kid. You start fucking Ren again and now she’s fucking quitting the business!”

“I mean isn’t that what you wanted last time?” I mutter down the line.

“This isn’t like last time!” Dima yells. He’s gotta be with Dad, but there’s a car horn so they’re not at the house. They’re possibly still in the city. “It’s a delicate thing, Aunt Macy’s gig. Not just anyone can come in and do it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Dad might have issues with Ren and vice versa, but there’s a need for her job.

There aren’t many people who can sit down and negotiate a deal between two criminal organizations.

Ren does it in a fair and neutral way. It cuts out a lot of fighting between parties, to say the least. Less blood spilled that way.

“So, so,”—I can tell he’s upset by his stumbling words—“what is this? Huh? Why is your girl calling it quits?”

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

“Did you put her up to this, Roma?”

“Did I put her up to this?” The irony is staggering. Five years ago, this is exactly what my dad wanted. Now there’s a panic-fueled worry. “No, I didn’t do this. I don’t have anything to do with her business.”

“No pillow talk?” he questions.

I grit my teeth. Safe to say, everyone knows I’ve picked back up with Ren. I wonder how many times it came up in conversation today.

“No,” I tell him. “No pillow talk. If you have questions, call her during business hours. ”

I end the call, letting the phone drop to the coffee table.

Ren’s got a spoon in her mouth, eating ice cream. Her eyes never leave the reality TV show playing, but they’re wide as she listens in. Blue-painted toenails wiggle as she props her feet up on the coffee table.

My coffee table.

She didn’t leave after she found me this afternoon.

I don’t know where the fuck she came from. I cut out of work early, the perks of being the son of the boss who’s about to quit the firm anyway. When I heard pounding on my door thirty seconds after I’d entered through it, I had no idea what I’d find.

The mixture of awe on her face shook me to my core. Green eyes softened as she took in the place and then almost teared up when she started to understand.

Luck and happenstance led me to the place. When I found the building, with a garage I could mess with my cars in, and space to live up top, of course, I snapped it up. The fact it’s only a street over from Fujimori’s sealed the deal.

And I had to come clean about the jukebox.

“You said you wanted a jukebox,” I told her. “I heard you tell Elijah after Lennie’s attack.”

After she’d saved my fucking life. Blood splattered across my face, my heart in my lungs. I’d turned to find Ren—my Ren—holding a gun. She’d taken down Leopold’s man before he could get me. And he would have gotten me.

“You bought me the fucking jukebox?” she nearly argued, oddly upset by it.

Trevino walked around the Barracuda, impressed.

“You starting your own shop?” he asked, not caring about the life-altering conversation Ren and I were trying to have.

“Yeah,” I said, my eyes never leaving my girl. She wiped under her eyes and turned to Trevino .

“He’s going to work on all kinds of cars,” she said. “Does Luis even know how to do an oil change?”

Trevino snorted and I realized a moment later Luis was the driver, working for him.

“You’re going to need someone to service your fleet,” Ren said, ever the business maker. “You should cut a deal now.”

The bodyguard laughed outright. “True. I’ve got three SUVs in rotation, but depending on how the business grows, so will the fleet. I need them maintained at all times.”

I could see his point. You don’t want to be driving around with a client paying a fortune only for the vehicle to break down, especially if said client’s life is at risk already.

I meant to spend the early evening working on a business plan. Dad is right about having all my ducks lined up. I’ll have a leg up, already owning the building and knowing clientele with garages full of vintage sports cars.

Adding a steady client like Trevino’s would be a boost.

The moment also clarified Trevino and Ren’s relationship. Not that I ever truly worried about the bodyguard, but their bickering is reminiscent of siblings. He left a few minutes later, not that he’s gone far.

Ren ran up the stairs, not waiting for an invitation.

The space is disgustingly large for one man. It’s got plenty of windows which let in light and the most used area is the kitchen and living room. Even then the furniture is sparse. There’s a couch and a rug. All things I’ve had at every apartment I’ve ever lived in.

It’s airy and light but cozy in the evenings. Other than the TV, there’s one lamp on and Ren continues to ignore my side-eye.

“You’re selling your business?”

The spoon dangles from her mouth.

“You couldn’t give me a heads up? ”

“What would it matter?” The words are muffled thanks to the mouthful of ice cream.

“I told you I’m starting up my own business. I can’t lose the last name, but I’m not going to be on the bankroll anymore.”

“I’m sorry how much did this place cost?” She stabs the spoon back into the pint.

I’ll always be Lev Zimin’s son. I can’t ditch the connection completely, but I’m taking a step back. “I’m going to make myself a neutral party if that’s what you’re worried about.”

People talk shit all the time. Ren dating a Zimin will generate a few snide remarks and they’ll argue about whether she’s cutting the Russians a better deal.

Eventually, things will even out. People will get used to us.

I’ll open up my shop. They’ll learn that I’m not influencing her work in any way.

“I’m not selling my business because of you,” she replies, swallowing more ice cream.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Ren selling her business is huge. “What are you going to do?”

She takes another bite of ice cream. “Imma be right here.”

The words are so quiet I have to lean forward to catch them. When I understand them, something warm glows in my chest.

She knows she’s never getting away. I’ve claimed her as thoroughly as she’s claimed me.

“You’re going to stop working and sit on my couch all day and eat ice cream?” As much as I love the thought of Ren nearby and at my disposal at all times, there’s no way she’s going to give up working.

“I want a selection of ice cream,” she says coyly. “That way I can mix up the flavors every day.”

I take the pint of ice cream out of her hand.

“What are you doing?” Based on how her cheeks turn scarlet she already knows what I’m doing .

Her lips are sweet and sticky. She leans into me, our foreheads touching. And then my hands reach for her hips, pulling her onto my lap.

She changed when she got here, helping herself to my clothes. They’re easy enough to get off, the giant T-shirt lifting over her head. All the while, her hips grind into me. It’s almost enough to lose focus. But not quite enough.

I’m gentle with her hand when I flip her onto her back. Her sweats glide off and then I’m lapping at her pussy. My tongue runs up her already slick folds. She moans, grinding down and my balls tighten.

I suck on her clit but if she thinks this will be a moment of release she’s wrong.

“Roma,” she groans when I pull back and lick her slit. “No. . .”

“Roma, yes,” I reply, my breath tickling her pussy. “You should’ve told me about your job.”

“You should’ve told me you moved a street away from Fujimori’s,” she complains back. I suck her pussy, causing her hips to jerk.

When I lift my head again, my chin is glistening. I climb up her body, forcing her to taste herself. My cock is straining against my pants and I work the zipper. Eager for her release, she lowers her good hand, trying to help me.

“Move that.” I lift her hand over her head.

“I’m in control.” She pouts.

“I’m sorry what was that?” I ask, my erection teasing her entrance. She pants, the tiny frown on her face adorable as she struggles to gain more of me. “Stay still or you won’t have this.”

She makes another disgruntled noise, but her hips stop moving. She whines, though. “Roma.”

“Yes, hellcat?” I kiss her again. Her body is a livewire, trembling in desperation. If she hadn’t been a brat, then I’d be spearing myself into her warm cunt, throwing all control out the window.

“Please.” She begs, her hips moving the tiniest bit. I raise a brow, a silent remonstrance. She stops moving. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

My cock slides all the way in. Her walls are so tight as she claims me, a groan catches in my throat.

There’s nothing slow or sweet. I thrust, hard and fast. She makes a noise and I hold her there, pounding in and out at an angle she likes.

“Please.” Her muscles tighten. It’s that tiny little moan that’s my undoing. I slam into her harder, shattering her.

She’s clenching around me when I pull my cock out of her. I ignore her confused little frown as I stroke myself, lifting on my knees. Streams of cum splatter across her chest as my back arches, the release draining me dry.

There’s nothing but the sounds of my breath as I push back. Ren’s thighs glisten with her arousal. Her legs remain parted and fuck if the sight doesn’t excite me all over again. Her mouth hangs open and my cum covers her tits.

Her brow wrinkles, another little adorable face. It feels special to see this side of Ren. The one who looks up at me with wide eyes and says, “I wanted you to come inside me.”

I wipe my brow, falling to the side. “I wanted you to tell me life changing stuff first instead of finding out about it from my uncle of all people. We can’t always get what we want.”

She sits up, about to stand.

I’m still trying to catch my breath. “Don’t wash it off.”

She’s confused at first. “You don’t want to see how pissed I get when I’ve got a UTI.”

“Go pee,” I tell her. “But my cum stays on your chest until I tell you otherwise.”

She stands on shaky legs. She’s not hurt, but I feel her gaze.

“Payback is a bitch, hellcat.” I had to walk home an utter mess how many times? I’ll do anything for my girl, but if she wants to play, we’ll play. And I’m going to enjoy it.

“You’re so fucked up,” she says under her breath.

“We’re fucked up,” I correct her. She comes back a few minutes later, almost shy. I pull her to my side, my arm curling around her shoulder, my hand grazing her tits. “Would now be a good time to tell you, I never stopped loving you?”