Roman: Book 1 (12 page)

I’m home from another mundane day of running back and forth between my clinic and the hospital. The difference between today and any other day is that I have a smile across my face. A real smile, caused by real happiness.

I’m smiling because today is our one-year anniversary. One year ago today Heather bulldogged her way into my grasp, positioning herself as my personal slave, play thing, human, whatever you want to call it. Her superb behavior change over the last year has led to a surprise for my little mouse.

Actually, I have several surprises that I will reveal over the next twenty-four hours.

As I stride into the dining room my eyes land on her and instantly she stands and bows her head, smiling down at her fidgeting hands. The black lace cocktail dress I laid out this morning hugs her every curve as beautifully as a lover.  I cough to clear the huskiness I know has crept into my voice, “Heather, I have something to say to you. Look at me… look into my eyes.” Her smiling brown eyes move from her hands to my chest and for some reason that reaction alone makes my smile widen and something tighten and constrict in my chest causing me to cough again to clear my throat before I’m able to speak.

“I have something to say to you and I’ll only say it when your eyes are locked on mine.” Her smiling brown eyes look up into mine. I remain unmoving, knowing if I don’t, my plans will shift from allowing her this surprise, to her being bent over the table with my cock ramming into her until she is filled with my hot cum.

“I’ve made a few plans for us. Over the next week you and I are going to be spending every moment together. I’ve had Andrew inform Miquel, the personal assistant responsible for your needs to refurbish your wardrobe with this season’s top designs, of course your bags and shoes have been replaced as well. It’s all been packed and should be…” I glance at my Rolex, “being stowed in the family jet this very moment.” Shoving my hands into the pockets of my slacks, I smile down at her before telling her, “I have a surprise for you. To reward your pleasing behavior, obedience and the skill with which you transformed yourself into the woman you are now compared to the bull you were when you came barreling into my estate.” I pause my speech to ensure I hold her full attention. “I’m taking you from your cage, little mouse and we are going to meet my parents, where you will be introduced as my fiancé and continue to behave in the manner you know I deem appropriate.” I recognize the resonating depth my declaration executed as well as I’d hoped by the immediate emotions flashing across her face.

Once I’m in reaching distance, my fingers grip her chin and shove her face up with more force than necessary, “The metamorphous you have undergone this past year has been nothing short of astounding to witness.  I need not remind you of my expectations and if the need to do so arises the consequences will be great. If you mess up, if you fumble in your social skills, or make a mistake in your etiquette or politeness I’ve allowed you to study online over the past year, not only will you immediately be brought back here, but you will be sequestered to the cellar where I will make damn sure your life is a living hell for the next year. And you know how quickly I tire of punishing women shackled to the cellar ceiling, meaning the possibility of your life even lasting half of that year is quite minimal.”

I walk around her and pull out her chair so we may begin our salads which have already been served.  “Now that I’ve finished explaining your rewards and punishments, tell me my love… what delight does Andrew have for our dinner this evening? “

Were she anyone other than my Heather, I would have backhanded her into the next room for her hesitation. However, the evening’s jovial mood allows for a bit more patience where she is concerned.

“D-Duck. C-Creole smothered duck, roasted garlic new potatoes and grilled asparagus, my love.” I kiss the crown of her head and leave my lips there as I speak.

“Sounds absolutely delicious.”

After I take my place at the opposite end of the table I add some vinaigrette to my salad. When I glance up in her direction with my fork suspended mid air inches from my mouth and pause at the expression on Heather’s face. An expression consisting of a mixture of terror, confusion and excitement cross her features as my ‘surprise’ sinks in.

“Is there a problem with your salad?” I ask feeling my temper rise.

She quickly shakes her head as her gaze lowers to the salad in front of her.

“There is obviously a problem, now are you going to tell me what it is, or shall I fucking beat it out of you?” I shout, growling down the expanse of the dark wooden dining table.

“It’s just that—“ I cut her off mid sentence.

“My patience is growing thin Heather, when addressing my questions, where are your eyes supposed to be?” I allow her a sip of water without comment and continue waiting for her answer.

After she takes a sip of water she barely gets the glass set back down without spilling it with her trembling hand. “Roman, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you. Do you really think I won’t? Look at me, I’m barely able to make it through dinner after you’ve laid this, this, this gift in my lap and already I’m messing up. And your parents? I still flinch when Andrew enters the room, or Miquel drops off any new designs you decide my wardrobe needs. Your personal assistant, Sebastian, merely walked into the sitting room while I was reading and asked how my day was and I yelped, nearly jumping out of my skin.”

She releases a sigh and glances down to her hands before bringing her pleading eyes back to mine, “I don’t want to let you down, Roman. I’d rather die than let you down.” Her eyes fill with tears and cause the same constricting feeling in my chest and before I know what I’m doing I’m stalking towards her.

Once Heather blots the tears from her eyes I grasp her chair and turn her so she’s facing me. I spread her thighs, shoving my hips between them and cup her face with one hand while reaching the other into my jacket pocket for the velvet ring box I planned to present to her later in the evening. I look deeply into her dark chocolate eyes as a tear escapes and slides down her cheek. I slightly tilt my head before touching my lips to hers.  The heat rising inside cannot be contained as I take her mouth, consuming her, controlling her with nothing more than my mouth and tongue. I easily disassemble the insecurities she allowed to steal away from my surprise. I fist my hand through her silky blonde locks, eliciting a moan from her throat as she rakes her nails along my scalp.

Pulling away from the sweetness of her mouth I smile while opening the ring box and setting it on her thigh. I lean my forehead against hers and whisper, “You're my number thirteen, I told you I would make you see how lucky being number thirteen can be. Of every woman before you and any women after, it will always, only be you I choose as my wife, little mouse.”  The Harry Winston seven-carat diamond set in a white gold setting no longer represents the shallowness of decoration and façade it did when I picked it out for Heather, though. Truthfully I’m not sure it ever did.

After slipping the ring onto her trembling finger, I kiss her palm and stand while smiling down at her. “Now, let’s eat shall we?”

I smile across the table at her as my right hand man, and the only person I trust to prepare my food, Andrew, removes our salad plates and serves us our dinner. It’s in this moment I realize for the first time in my life I feel happiness.

I’m truly excited to get the chance to watch Heather interact with my parents.

When we’re over France and the flight attendant kindly asks us to buckle our seat belt, I am more intoxicated than I have ever been in my life. I don’t know if this a positive thing or a negative thing, but it didn’t deter me from drinking more Mai Tai’s the closer we got to our destination, nor did it inhibit me from becoming more chatty with the sweet little flight attendant serving me my Mai Tai’s. Roman, on the other hand, sat quietly, drinking his club soda with a ‘fresh’ lemon slice and watching me with amusement.

“Celia, is it as spectacular as everyone says? The fiffele tower, oh! And that big thing, what’s it called?” I look over at Roman for the answer, “Romie, do you know what I’m talking about? It looks like that weird building block I put on top all of my castles when I was finished building them as a kid? What’s that thing called?”

He chuckles and his blue eyes sparkle, smiling at me before he speaks, “It’s called The Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile, and the Eiffel Tower, little mouse, and we are not going to Paris, so you’ll be seeing neither. And Heather, if you ever address me as Romie again, I will put you over my knee and tear the skin from your ass with my bare hand and when my hand tires, I’ll continue to do so using my belt.” His gaze moves from me to Celia with his smirk unmoved, “Celia, no more Mai Tai’s for Ms. Mackenzie. I’m afraid I’ve let her drink well past her limit.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Payne.” She smiles taking both our glasses and moves towards the front of the plane.

I realize I am excited as tipsy giggles start spilling from my lips and I’m laughing so hard I snort, which brings on more laughter as my head to falls back, my eyes watering uncontrollably.

When Roman laughs his entire face transforms making him easily the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and butterflies take flight in my stomach. “My little mouse, you are too damn cute at this moment and I’m so damn thankful we have the rest of this evening and tomorrow morning before we meet my parents, otherwise you would be in a world of pain, Mac. I swear, I have no idea what to do with you in this state.”

Through my laughter I’m barely able to get the words out, “I’m, I’ve been in a world of Payne,” his brows furrow but his sexy, devious smile remains, “for a whole year, get it P-a-y-n-e?” I bend over at the waist and place my face in my hands trying to stifle my drunken laughter. I feel his fingertips brush up and down my back and the tension of my excited anxiety subsides as calmness settles over me.

Still bent at the waist I turn my face in his direction, with my eyes still closed I nervously swallow the lump in my throat before grinning.

The rum fuels both my curiosity and my courage to venture into unknown territory and ask the questions I’ve always wanted to know the answers to, but have always been afraid to ask. “Rome, did you grow up in Seattle?”

After a few seconds of silence he nods, “I did.”

I sit up and lay my head on his shoulder before smiling up at him and whisper, “What was it like? Were your parents strict? Tell me about how you were as a kid.”

His laughter is as sinful as it is adorable and after his arm slides around my shoulders it tightens, tucking me closer to him. He chuckles while placing his lips on the crown of my head and running his fingers from my shoulder to my elbow over and over.

“Well aren’t you just an inquisitive, little tipsy thing. What was it like? I guess you could say it was normal, if any childhood can be called normal. My father worked, my mother stayed at home, we were always wealthy so money was never a problem or factor that caused tension between my parents. I never went without. My parents never had reason to be strict. I always made excellent grades and never drew negative attention to myself, any disobedient or mischievous proclivity I displayed, they over looked preferring ignorance instead of accepting the possibility they had a bad son.”

My drunken thought process tries to keep up with his answer but fails and my goldfish attention span veers into another direction to lighten the mood his words created.

“I’m excited to meet your mom and dad. Do you think they’ll like me?” My slurred words heighten in pitch towards the end of my question and my face scrunches up when my eyes meet his.

“Mouse, I have no doubt they will both love you the moment they meet you.”

His words make me smile and I giggle, “Really?”

“How could they not? You’re perfectly imperfect eagerly attempting perfection.” He tucks my hair behind my ear as his smiling gaze studies my face.

A sighing hum escapes as my eyelids flutter shut, I quietly wipe my eyes before leaning into his strength, and without thinking I lay my head on his shoulder. My head tilts to look up at him, smiling I softly whisper, “You love me, Romie.”