Page 34 of The Arrangement (Executive Suite Secrets #3)

LIAM ROSE

Going to Rome’s place the next night felt like a relief in some ways.

He’d gotten caught up with family and friends things on Friday, leaving me to stew in the mess I’d made.

My boss had attempted to call me several times after I submitted my resignation, but I’d ignored her calls.

Emily had called as well to say that she missed me but completely supported my decision to leave.

She still thought it was a bargaining tactic, so I could return to my old job with better pay and more autonomy.

Or at least without having to do any fundraising.

My problem wasn’t fundraising. I was happy to shill for my department and gain money for something I believed in. We did a lot of educational good for our community and the children.

My issue was that I couldn’t draw the line when I felt there was a conflict of interest. If I felt uncomfortable, my boss should have stepped in and taken over. It wasn’t that hard, right?

But the job wasn’t the only problem. It highlighted a potential problem I hadn’t even considered with Rome.

Did dating a billionaire like him mean I would have to spend my life fending off people who wanted his money? How did he even deal with that? How did he know who wanted him for his money and who actually cared about him as a person?

How the fuck wasn’t he jaded and bitter?

Just thinking about it all made me angry on his behalf.

Scam artists filled the world. I had to search no further than my email and social media to see hundreds of cons and scams. Did anyone know how to tell the truth anymore?

This from a man who’d lied to himself about being straight his entire life.

I was in a pretty grumpy mood when I showed up on Rome’s doorstep. Naturally, the man took one look at me and knew something was wrong.

“It’s fine. Everything is fine,” I countered, stripping off my coat.

Rome took it and stole a kiss, instantly warming my cold lips. Some of the angry tension eased from my shoulder, and I leaned into him. Right. Being here, kissing him. It all felt right. The only thing that was wrong was how fucking long it had taken me to get to this point.

A giggle rose from Rome. “Here. Let me hang up your coat, and then I can give you restorative cuddles.”

I released him and stepped back. “Restorative cuddles? I thought you’d offer whiskey.”

Rome shrugged as he placed the coat on a hanger and hung it in the closet off the foyer. “I mean, I can if that’s what you want, but I thought I’d at least try cuddles first.”

“Nah. Let’s try cuddles first. We might have to try the whiskey later.”

With a smirk, Rome caught my hand and pulled me into the living room, where he pulled me down with him onto this enormous, soft, cushioned chair. It easily fit two people, especially with Rome pulling me over so that I was half lying on him.

I kicked off my sneakers and propped my socked feet up on the matching gigantic footrest. With my head on his shoulder and my arm across his waist, the world felt easier to deal with.

“You wanna talk about it?” Rome murmured into my hair.

“Do you mind if we don’t? At least, not yet. I want to stew on it a little more.”

Rome was silent, but I could feel a new tightness in my arms. He wasn’t happy with that answer.

“Would it help if what’s on my mind has nothing to do with being gay or bisexual or being with you or sex or anything of the hundred different things you’d expect me to be worrying about right now?”

“Seriously?” Rome jerked to the side so he could more clearly see my face. Open shock was scrawled across his face, and it made me want to kiss him.

“Yes, seriously. It’s a work thing.”

Rome released an enormous sigh of relief, making me cackle. “Oh my God, that’s so good to hear. Well, not really. I don’t want you stressed about work, but I’m glad you’re not stressing about us and your sexual orientation.” He settled back in the chair, and I returned my head to his shoulder.

“I probably should stress about that, and I do some, but honestly? Fuck it. I’m thirty-three.

Been married and divorced. Moved to a new city.

Lost my best friend. Found him again. Let him suck my dick and discovered that I liked it.

” Rome laughed like a lunatic, and I smiled at his wicked joy.

“The point is that I’m too tired to fucking care anymore.

Maybe if my family was here to shout about how I was going to hell, I’d care more, but I’m happy right now, and I’m fine with staying in my bubble of happiness for as long as I can. ”

“I promise to protect your bubble for as long as I can.”

That was sweet. We knew bubbles didn’t last. Eventually, this one would burst, and I’d have to deal with shit, but preferably not before I had a handle on my identity. And maybe after I’d found the right words to tell my homophobic family to fuck off.

“Is there anything I can do to help with the work stress?”

Rome’s question was so damn innocent, but I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from blurting out that he needed to make a donation.

Yes, it would make things easier, and yes, we’d agreed upon that a long time ago, but it wouldn’t fix anything long term.

It might make things worse. If my boss—no, my former boss—thought she could snap her fingers and get money out of Rome through me, my hell would just be starting.

“Kiss me,” I murmured, even as I captured his lips in a slow, deep kiss that curled my toes.

Rome didn’t hesitate. He licked into my mouth as if it were his personal property, and I loved it.

Each time we were together, whether it was simply talking and playing video games or exploring our relationship on a physical level, I was falling more for him.

He made me happy in ways that I’d never felt with anyone else. And I didn’t want it to ever end.

The kissing went on and on until Rome hooked a hand behind one of my knees and pulled it across his body.

A yelp broke from my lips as I gripped the back of the chair and pushed upright to find that I was now straddling his waist, his hands settled comfortably on my hips.

My heart flipped over, and I might have giggled.

I’d never straddled a man like this, which was a stupid thought because nearly everything I did with Rome was a first time.

After the stunned surprise wore off, I became aware of the hardness of Rome’s dick pressing against my own through our pants. My heart sped up, and I was torn between jumping off him and complaining that we were wearing too much clothing.

“Too much?” Rome asked after the silence had stretched for too long.

I shifted, trying to make sure that I wasn’t putting too much weight on him, but I only succeeded in rubbing our dicks together. A moan tore from my throat, and Rome echoed it. Dear God, it should not feel that good.

“More,” I panted, tossing aside all my earlier reservations. “Gonna need more.”

Rome—the evil bastard—tightened his grip on my ass and rolled his hips, sending a fresh wave of pleasure and desire through me. “How much more?”

“No clothes more. Now.”

We fell out of the chair and stumbled along the hall, knocking into walls as we kissed and fondled each other on our way to the bedroom. Something crashed to the floor, but Rome wouldn’t let me return for it.

“Replaceable. Doesn’t matter,” he claimed between kisses.

I laughed, and he ended up kissing my teeth. “You can slow down. I won’t change my mind.”

Rome didn’t appear willing to take that chance.

In the bedroom, we tore off clothes and fell into his enormous king-sized bed with the velvety soft duvet and giant mound of pillows.

I scooted to the center of the bed and put my hands behind my head.

It was the first time I was fully naked in front of Rome, but not the first time for the exhibitionist standing at the foot of the bed.

However, this was the first time I let myself really look at him.

Fuck, he was sexy. It wasn’t fair. Every inch of him was lean, hard muscle.

And on top of that was this dark hair that was silky to the touch.

I’d never given much thought to hairy versus not hairy, but on Rome, it was so hot.

Everything was neatly trimmed, seeming to highlight his physique.

“Like what you see?” Rome asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Actually, I was debating whether to ask how many hours a week you spend in the gym or who handles all your manscaping?”

Rome threw his head back and laughed. He had the best laugh. So fucking free. Like the world couldn’t touch him. I wanted him to always laugh like that.

He crawled into the bed and lay beside me. We turned on our sides so we could lightly touch and kiss.

“Do you have a preference for what we do? I’m happy to blow you again, if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”

“Sex.”

Rome pulled away and just blinked at me a few times, like that single word wasn’t computing in his brain.

It had taken a lot of courage on my part to spit it out, but I’d come to the decision while I was straddling him.

I wanted to go all the way. I wanted to know it all.

Not have something that was supposed to be so enjoyable and intimate hanging over me like a scary shadow of the unknown.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I want to bottom.”

This time, Rome’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

Of course, I knew it was going to hurt. I wasn’t a moron, but I also had confidence in Rome that he knew ways to make it hurt a lot less. I trusted him. Rome cared about me and wanted my happiness.

The sexy man tackled me to the mattress with a deep kiss, but as I was kissing him, he retreated. His expression was soft and tender.

“You know, there’s no medal for going from straight to sexy bottom in record time, right? There is no reason to rush into this. There are a lot of things we can still do to get us both off.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not doing this because you think it’s something I want?”