Chapter 22: A Gentleman's Club

Later That Day Roman She took her sweet time. I was already dressed—black shirt, white slacks, black shoes, nothing overdone, but clean. Classic. I sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, scrolling through my phone without actually seeing anything on the screen. I was trying not to think about Savannah’s dress. She’d been teasing it all morning, saying it was “a little red,” and “a little tight,” with that crooked smirk she wore whenever she knew she was about to ruin me. And I let her. Because I'm masochistic that way. I enjoy the destruction. The bathroom door creaked open. I looked up. And the air left my lungs. She wasn’t just a vision. She was a threat. Red latex, sculpted to her like it had been painted on by the devil himself. Her legs—long, bare, dangerous. Her bob framed her face in this sharp, devastating way. That neckline? Deep enough to make religion tremble. My phone slipped from my fingers and landed on the carpet with a soft thud, then bounced once before resting at m