“There’s another one.” This spank rings out, echoing in my ears as the pain slithers along my nerves.
My body still responds like I’m going to get to have him inside me. My skin is hot, my pussy is wet, and I can’t stop the needy whimpers that leave my throat. I don’t know how he does this to me. Roman jerks my hair back to see my face, then kisses along my throat, as if he can make a necklace from his affection.
His teeth come down over my pulse point, digging in as we both moan. My hips roll against him and I let out an unsteady breath when he lets go. He nods once. “Now you’ve been punished and you can do as you please.”
“What if I want to do you?”
Roman’s eyes darken and he whispers in my ear. “I need more time than I’m about to have to satisfy you properly, Bambina. Wednesday night, you’re all mine.”
I squirm uncomfortably. “So I have to use a toy tonight?”
“Don’t threaten me.” He softens my anger with a kiss. “Because right now, I have to deliver some news.”
NICK
Isee Sophie fuming as she half-throws, half-dries dishes. Roman told her. I walk up behind her and catch her wrist before she can break a mug. “Sophie.”
“I feel like I’m being put in time out!” She huffs, shaking me off. “I can’t go into the office because I’m a distraction? That’s bullshit! We always behave on the clock. Lunch or after work is our time.”
“In a building your father owns, sweetheart.” I kiss her neck softly, but it doesn’t affect her.
She’s been riled lately, but hiding it well. I’ve noticed. I spin her and make her look at me. “Talk to me, Sophie.”
Her eyes dart around the room before she takes me to the balcony. She sits on the ground, her arms around her knees as she pulls her legs to her chest. “I don’t know where to start.”
I sit in front of her, not wanting her to hide from me. “Anywhere.”
“I’m not really that mad about this. I like working from home. And now no one can complain about me missing work if we decide to travel, but … I don’t know if this is the right career for me.”
“You’re young. You can change careers.”
She scoffs. “Tell that to my dad. He’d ask me why I’d leave his company. He’d assume the worst. It would be a mess and you know it, Nick.”
“It would be a mess for a day, Sophie. What else?”
She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. I recognize that terrified look in her eyes. I think all of us have felt it at some time. Gunner felt it when he decided not to re-enlist. Roman and I felt it when we knew our future wasn’t in the military. Holden’s felt it multiple times over.
Finding our place in the world took a lot of missteps, a lot of mistakes, and a lot of confusion. It was terrifying not knowing what direction to choose. That’s the problem of having so many options.
I assumed it was a mark of being free. I could do anything. But when it hit that I could doanythingbut noteverything, I was sure I’d make the wrong decision. I modeled and loved it for a while, but the industry is dark. I wanted to pursue art, but the kind of painting I enjoy doesn’t sell for millions. Luckily, I am happy with what I do, who I work with, and the luxury it allows.
That doesn’t mean Sophie is.
“I’m so confused. I should be happy. I have …everything. I have you guys. We have this beautiful house. I have a good job. We’ve traveled. My parents are back together. My life is a dream, so why doesn’t it feel like that?”
I motion her towards me and she curls against my side, letting me be the protective one now. I kiss the top of her head. “How angry are you going to be if I tell you it’s because you’re young?”
“Mad.”
“I’ve felt this, Sophie. When I was twenty-five and had every option wide open for me. But I knew, when I chose, it would cut other options off. I could be a model and paint and have a life of luxury, but then I never had time to enjoy it or the energy. I had to watch what I ate. Had to tolerate strangers touching me and ordering me around.”
“Is that why you left?”
“Yeah. And then I thought about being a photographer. I thought about painting all around the world and just putting them up in my own gallery. I thought about owning a gallery or working in a museum. Every choice we make limits our other choices. You know that.” I kiss her again, to soften that blow.
“No matter how much I want to, I can’t help you with this.” I continue. “You have to know what you’re willing to give up, and what you’re not. Lists might help you.”
She sighs. “But it gets easier?”