“Roman.” She sighed and wiggled her hips. “I want you everywhere.”

  I swooped in and ran my tongue up her slit, stopping to roll it around her clit.

  She arched off the bed and let out a short scream. Her legs shook and I grinned. I kept licking and sucking, tasting her until she begged me to stop.

  “Please. I need…” She curled her hands over my shoulders.

  In my head, when I’d been planning our reunion—if we ever reunited, some days I wasn’t sure I’d make it out of the Castle alive—I envisioned this lasting much longer. Spending hours and hours tangled in each other. Worshipping every inch of her body. But now that she was in my arms, I needed her too much. I reached for the nightstand.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  “What?” My gaze swung to hers. “I need a condom.”

  “No you don’t.” She curled her finger at me, inviting me closer to share her secret.

  Hard dick in hand, I leaned in.

  “I’m on the pill now. I want you bare. Inside me.”

  I almost came all over the sheets.

  In a quick move, I kicked my shorts off the rest of the way and hovered over her body. “You’re sure?”

  She answered by wrapping her legs around me. I reached behind her, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under her hips before sinking inside her.

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned the whole way. Her tight walls of heat gripped my cock sweeter than any fantasy I’d built in my head.

  I took her mouth, sucking on her tongue while sliding out and shoving my way back in.

  She tore her mouth from mine, gasping for air. “Don’t stop, Roman.”

  I watched, fascinated, as her breasts bounced with each thrust. Deeper. I wanted to be so deep inside her. Crawl inside her warmth and never, ever leave. The numbness in my chest receded.

  Crazed with the need to have her every way possible, I pulled out and flipped her over.

  “Roman!” she yelped.

  “Arch your back,” I demanded.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder. Even though I must’ve looked like a maniac, whatever she saw reassured her. She relaxed, resting her weight on her arms, leaving her ass beautifully exposed. I gripped her hips and sank back inside. So good. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to slow down.

  “Roman,” she whimpered.

  I stopped mid-thrust. “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”

  “You’re in…deep. And you’re still very, um, large.”

  A rough chuckle spilled out of me. I leaned over, kissing her shoulder and down her spine, apologizing with my mouth and body. When she was wiggling and moaning for me to take her again, I flopped down on the bed. “Straddle me. Show me how much you can handle.”

  I didn’t have to say it twice. She eagerly swung her leg over my hips and slid all the way down.

  “Good?”

  “Good,” she confirmed. “So, so good.”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on not coming. Fuck, she felt incredible.

  Her breath grew ragged and her movements jerky. So tight around me. Her body shook and I lost it, pouring everything I had into her.

  “Stop. Juliet. Stop.”

  But she kept going. And going. I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Juliet

  I untangled myself from Roman’s arms and darted into the bathroom. When I returned, he was sprawled out in the middle of the bed sound asleep. With the sheet tangled around his waist and most of one leg hanging off the bed, he looked more like the boy I remembered.

  I wanted to barricade the front door, load a shotgun—do whatever it took to keep evil away and protect him from the world.

  “Roman?” I whispered, stepping closer.

  His chest rose and fell. I studied the bruising on his pec. A fist most likely. I hoped he’d hit back twice as hard.

  Torn between wanting to feed him and wanting him to rest, I watched him for a few more minutes. Finally, I slipped into a pair of loose pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt and headed to the kitchen.

  I turned the burners on again and finished making dinner. A few times, I walked over to the stairs to listen for sounds of Roman stirring. I ate dinner by myself at the kitchen table, then packed the leftovers in several containers. I left a note on the counter in case Roman woke up hungry in the middle of the night.

  The house was quiet as I made my rounds, checking all the locks. I stood by the sliding glass door at the back of the house and watched the snow still falling. A few inches had already accumulated. Maybe tomorrow school would be cancelled.

  Roman

  Sunlight. Slow breaths. A warm vanilla scent. Smooth sheets rustled against my skin. Something soft tickled my bare chest.

  No screams tearing through the air.

  I blinked my eyes open. Dark outlines of tall, bulky furniture. I stretched my legs, grateful they didn’t fall off the mattress. Pins and needles prickled my arm and I turned. Juliet. Curled on her side, using my arm for her pillow. Her hair spread out and wild was the source of the sweet scent and ticklish brushes against my skin.

  Ignoring the tingling in my arm, I pulled her closer.

  “Mmm,” she hummed in her sleep.

  This wasn’t a dream. I’d made it back to her.

  At the edge of my mind, vicious memories waited, anxious to replay themselves on a loop.

  I brushed Juliet’s hair aside and kissed her shoulder. Slowly breathing her in, I pushed back against the darkness and tumbled into sleep.

  The next time I woke, I was alone.

  Sunlight flooded the bedroom.

  I sat up slowly, sharp pains and dull aches reminding me of how close I’d come to death.

  Juliet appeared in the open doorway. “Morning.”

  I reached for her. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “I wanted you to sleep.” Her smile faltered as she came closer.

  “I don’t like waking up without you.” I realized how needy that sounded and my cheeks burned. To cover, I glanced at the clock. “Aren’t you going to be late for school?”

  Her lips curled. “Which is it, Roman? You don’t want to wake without me, or you want me to get to school?”

  I ducked my head and laughed. God, I’d missed her.

  “It kept snowing. There’s a two-hour delay.” She held her crossed fingers in front of my face. “I’m hoping it switches to a full snow day.”

  “Shit.” I flipped the covers back. “I better shovel the driveway so you can get the car out.”

  “Whoa.” She pressed her hand against my shoulder. “Easy. I want you to rest. I pushed the snow off the sidewalk with a broom. I’ll try to clear a path for the car in a few minutes.”

  “The hell you will,” I growled. “You’ve lost your damn mind if you think I’m gonna lounge around in bed while you’re busting your ass.”

  I pushed myself to the edge of the bed and winced at the pain in my shoulder.

  “Roman,” she pleaded. “You’re…injured. I want you to rest.”

  “All I need to do is move. A little manual labor will help.” I rolled my shoulders and twisted my neck from side to side. I felt about a hundred and eighty instead of eighteen.

  Juliet huffed an annoyed breath and left the bedroom. I snagged my pants off the floor and wrinkled my nose. At some point I needed to go buy some damn clothes.

  “Here.” Juliet returned with a red and white tube in her hands. “Mrs. Shields must have been in more pain than she let on. She has tons of this stuff all over the place.”

  I stared at her as the familiar heavy menthol scent filled my nose. “Bengay? Are you serious? My grandmother used that.”

  “It’ll help. I used it when I hurt my knee in gym class.”

  “Who hurt you?”

  “I did.” She squirted a generous blob of the white cream in her hands. “Turn around.”

  My back probably looked like a horror show. But her warm, slippery little hands felt so good, it was worth the embarrassment.

  The menthol burned my sinuses but was oddly comforting. She stopped rubbing around my shoulder blades.

  “You done?” I asked in a sleepy voice.

  “These look like scrapes and…burns. I don’t want to—” Her voice broke on a sob. “Roman.”

  “Shhh.” I turned. “I’m okay.”

  “What happened to you?”

  My gaze dropped to my hands. In the harsh sunlight, the raw scrapes on my wrists stood out. She knelt in front of me, curling her fingers around mine.

  “What happened to your wrists?” She traced a line that went all the way around.

  “Please, Juliet. I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Or ever. “I can’t.” I hated shutting her out, but I couldn’t even find the words to explain. And I didn’t want those images in her head.

  Her jaw set in a firm line but then her shoulders dropped and she nodded. My girl was stubborn, yes, but more than that she was compassionate. “Okay.”

  She stood and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “When you do want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced at the window. The snow was still coming down slowly in big, fat flakes. Jesus, I didn’t even have a winter coat or boots.

  “I better go wash this off my hands.” She flashed her palms at me.

  “Good call.” I followed her into the bathroom. Since I’d forgotten the concept of privacy, I relieved myself while she was at the sink. She hurried out and closed the door behind her.

  I met her in the hallway. “Is my hoodie still downstairs?” I wanted to burn the thing, not wear it again, but I didn’t have anything else.

  She frowned and shook her head. “That’s not warm enough to shovel snow.”

  I shrugged. “It’s all I got.”

  “Don’t think this is…weird. But Mrs. Shields still had a lot of her husband’s clothes.” Juliet ran her gaze over me. “He was a big guy. Really tall.” She flashed a pained smile. “I think that’s why Mrs. Shields liked you so much.”

  I let out a bittersweet laugh. “She was a nice woman.” My jaw clenched. “Knowing she was trying to…foster me…it meant a lot. And I feel like shit I never got to thank her.”

  Her eyes filled with tears but she held them back. “I told her. Many times.”

  She sniffled once, then cleared her throat. “There are a couple of winter coats of her husband’s in the closet downstairs. Boots too. She told me once, she used to leave them on the front porch to scare would-be intruders away. So I’m not sure what condition they’re in…”

  “Anything will be better than what I’ve got.”

  I followed her to the end of the hallway, where she pushed open a door.

  “I haven’t had the heart to clean out her things yet,” Juliet explained, leading me to one of the closets. She slid the door open. “This must have been her husband’s closet. It’s all men’s clothing.”

  It’s not like I wasn’t used to hand-me-downs. But I couldn’t help feeling like a grave robber rummaging through the clothing of a man I’d never met. My hands brushed against something soft toward the back of the long metal rod. Plaid flannel. Two different patterns. They both appeared to be new with tags still attached. I pulled those forward. They were a size smaller than most of the other shirts and sweaters. The tags had clearance stickers on them from L.L. Bean.

  I threw my head back and laughed. “Oh, shit. Eraser would be so jealous. I wish I could tell him this.”

  “Who?”

  “One of my roommates. He was cool.” I blew out a breath. Damn, I hoped things were going okay for Eraser with his uncle. “I hope I can find him now that we’re both out. I really want you to meet him.”

  She didn’t say anything. I unhooked the two flannels from their hangers and tossed them over my arm. I found two long-sleeved thermal shirts in a dresser and a pair of jeans that would work if I cinched them with a belt. Everything felt clean but had a slight unused scent clinging to them. It didn’t matter. I certainly wasn’t fussy about my wardrobe.

  Juliet followed me back to our bedroom.

  “So you made friends while you were there?” she asked.

  Friends? I stared at the window, not really seeing anything beyond the frosty glass. “More like brothers. Griff’s kinda like that annoying older brother I never knew I wanted. Eraser’s more mellow. We looked out for each other. Well, really, they looked out for me.”

  “Oh.”

  I turned around to face her.

  She stood there twisting her fingers together but a relieved smile lit up her face. “I’m happy you weren’t alone there.”

  “Misery does love company,” I said.

  What happened to me was an awful lot of heavy shit to lay on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old girl. So, I forced my mood away and held up the two plaid shirts. “Red or green?”

  “Um.” She pressed a finger to her lips. “Red. Save the green for when we go out.”

  “Go out, huh? Where are we going?”

  “Grocery shopping.” She grinned at me and turned her palms up toward the ceiling. “Apparently, when you’re an adult, a ‘night out’ is a trip to the supermarket.”

  “Sounds like the kind of normalcy I’ve been longing for my whole life,” I blurted out. Juliet was still in high school. She should have more to look forward to than picking out ripe bananas in the produce section.

  “Me too.” She backed away. “I’m going to start breakfast.”

  Suddenly, I was ravenous. I hadn’t eaten since…shit, I didn’t even know when. “What were you making last night? It smelled really good.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Spaghetti and meat sauce? I put it away for lunch—”

  “That sounds awesome.”

  “For breakfast?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay.” Her whole face brightened. “You got it.”

  The delicious scent of garlic hit my nose when I entered the kitchen a few minutes later. The stove hummed in the background while Juliet set the table.

  “Smells good.”

  She waved her hands toward a shelf in the corner. “I’ve been entertaining myself going through Mrs. Shield’s cookbooks. I usually bring leftovers to school for Pip and—”

  “You’ve been bringing him lunch?”

  “Well, yeah.” She half-smiled. “Although, he really likes baked goods more.”

  “He’s got a serious sweet tooth.” I didn’t know what else to say. “I can’t believe you’ve been doing that.”

  “Well, I’m so worried my aunt and uncle are going to find out where I am or try to make me come back, I pretty much go to school and come right home. Get my homework done. Talk to Vienna. Cook and bake.”

  “I’m so sorry you’ve been worrying about them.”

  She shrugged. “Dex comes by, but he was on the road for a little while.”

  “Have you heard from your aunt and uncle?”

  “No and that freaks me out a little bit.”

  The oven dinged and she pulled the door down and leaned in to grab a tray.

  “I can do that for you,” I offered.

  “It’s okay.” She set the tray on top of the stove. Thick, crusty wedges of Italian bread slid to the edge. My mouth watered. “What’s that?”

  “Garlic bread.” She ripped off a paper towel and used a pair of tongs to place one of the slices in the middle, then handed it to me. “Careful, it’s hot.”

  Absolutely ravenous, I tore into the bread, not caring that it singed the roof of my mouth. “Oh, fuck that’s good,” I mumbled, crumbs dropping everywhere.

  She chuckled at me. “Go sit down.”

  I was only in her way, so I sat at the table and finished my toast while I watched her. She placed the remaining pieces of garlic bread in a basket and set it on the table in front of me. I grabbed another slice and bit into it.

  “Do you need me to do anything?” I asked.

  “No.” She opened the fridge. “Is milk okay?”

  “It’s perfect.” I paid careful attention to where she pulled items from. The glasses came out of the cabinet next to the refrigerator. Looked like plates were to the left of that one. I’d let her wait on me today, but by tomorrow, I wanted to be useful around here.

  “Okay.” She set a huge bowl of spaghetti coated in rich meat sauce on the table. Fancy serving utensils stuck out of the bowl. “Go ahead.”

  “Juliet, I’m so hungry, I could gobble that entire bowl.”

  She hesitated and glanced at the refrigerator. “I can eat a—”

  “I’m kidding.” I reached for the spaghetti and scooped a generous portion on her plate before taking my own. It was a struggle, but I tried not to shovel the food in like a barn animal. Everything tasted amazing. “Did you make this all yourself?”

  “Well, the sauce is from a jar. But I added the meat and vegetables.”

  “It’s so good.” I bit into another crunchy piece of garlic toast. “Thank you.”

  She twirled her spaghetti into a neat ball, before taking dainty bites while I kept scarfing mine down like a homeless dog.

  When we finished, I helped her clear the table but she shooed me away from the sink. “I’ve got this. I have a few more things I want to do out here.”

  I glanced at the clock. “I better get working on that snow, anyway.”

  She walked me to the front closet. Mrs. Shields had kept two of her husband’s winter coats and a pair of his bib overalls there.

  “Uh, the blaze orange is a bold fashion choice.”

  “Well, I won’t lose you in the snow.” She grinned at me. “I think Mr. Shields was a hunter.”

  I ran my fingers over the other one—a newer red plaid wool coat. “Must’ve been his going out coat?”

  She shrugged.

  “I’ll go with blaze orange for the snow removal.”

  “Good choice.”

  “Do you know where there’s a shovel?”

  “Oh. I used the broom that was on the porch.” She bit her lip and turned in a circle before walking down the hall and opening one of the doors. “Maybe there’s a shovel in the garage. It scares me, so I don’t go out there much.”