Chapter 25: This Isn't Acting

I was still on top of Roman. My chest heaved. My thighs trembled around his hips. My pulse? A jackhammer. The room was still. Silent. Except for the throb of the bass lingering from the track. Except for the sound of my heavy breathing… and the faintest creak of the leather seat under Roman as I adjusted myself on his lap—pressing down just a little harder. Just for the show, I told myself. Roman’s eyes were on my mouth. His pupils blown. Lips parted. Jaw clenched like he was trying not to commit a crime. My palm flattened against his chest. “We should stop,” I whispered. “They’re watching.” Roman’s hand slid from my lower back to my ass, gripping. Spreading. Possessing. “Let them,” he said, voice husky, dark. “You started this.” My legs trembled slightly, not from exhaustion—but from the coil of need that was now tightly wound between my thighs. I leaned into him, my palms pressed to his chest, and whispered low into his ear, “We’re just putting on a show… right?” Roman’s jaw clenched