Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so angry in my entire life. Sure, there have been moments here and there, but where Roman is concerned, this puts all our past arguments to shame. Not only did he lie to me, but he kidnapped someone who I told him I wanted to handle myself. Someone who could potentially end my career—or what’s left of it.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand why Roman did it, but that doesn’t make it right. I said I would handle Prescott, and he deliberately went against my wishes. Even if the man does have information or is working for the Russians, Roman didn’t need to take his goddamn eye out. And now I have to deal with the aftermath—whatever that may be. If I thought I had to watch my back before, Roman just made it ten times worse.

The door slams behind me, and it doesn’t take long before Roman is marching after me into the kitchen. I can practically taste the fury that permeates his words before he’s even spoken. I didn’t give him a chance to speak as I stormed out of The Ravenite. I’m not sure I have the capacity right now to listen, because all I can think about is what’s next on his agenda. It’s almost like he’s trying to get me kicked out of the academy. At every opportunity, he’s given me another reason to believe the NYPD and I don’t blend; proving that I’m right where I belong, showing me I’m exactly like my brother and father.

“Alanis!” he snaps, his footsteps heavy as he reaches the kitchen island. His fingers drum on the countertop, but I refuse to look at him as I start the coffee machine.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk,” I murmur over the grinding coffee beans. If this continues, I might need something stronger than coffee.

He huffs in response, the pads of his fingers still making that incessant sound. “Then you can listen.”

I spin around almost too fast for my vision to catch up. I cut him a glare, an incredulous expression arching my brows. Roman should know better than to demand anything from me, especially now, and I’m not one for obeying him so easily.

Turning my attention back to the coffee machine, I press the button to pour out a heavy measure of caffeine into my mug. “You lied to me,” I accuse sharply.

“You undermined me,” he snaps back, making me seethe. “Your brother and I have a job to do, and it was under control until you?—”

“Saved him?” I punch a hand to my hip in emphasis because Roman can give me excuse after excuse, but the truth is, he overstepped. He should know that, but now we’re in a battle of wills. We both think we’re right, and until we come to an agreement, it’s always going to be like this.

“He can have me kicked out of the academy!”

“For once, this isn’t about you, Lani!”

Ouch.

“Prescott is working for the Russians. He’s being paid to take us out, and we needed to send a message!”

“By taking his fucking eye out?” I scream at him, ignoring the painful insinuation that I’m being selfish—because right now, I know I am.

Roman grips the edge of the counter, and it’s then that I see the unabated rage surfacing. It’s not just anger, but irritation. Both of which I’ve caused.

“You said you wanted to keep out of this side of things,” he says with a calmness that doesn’t feel like Roman at all. It’s like he’s trying to suppress the urge to shout at me, even if I’m pushing his buttons.

“I do! But right now, our lives are overlapping. What you did tonight is going to come back on me , Roman! Why don’t you see that?”

“Because it doesn’t matter!”

I gape back at him as we fall into an excruciating silence. The tension between us grows thicker, to the point it’s clouding my head and making my chest ache. I can’t think clearly. I can’t breathe without the sharp pain in my chest. It feels like betrayal, only worse. Like Roman doesn’t believe in me; like he never has. He was someone I thought was supporting my decisions, someone I could rely on when I felt like my family would never understand.

Was that all a lie?

Are we a lie?

“I want you to leave,” I whisper, hating how much my voice cracks under those words.

His approach slows, eyes watching my every movement as I create space between us. It’s almost as if he’s planning his next move. His plump lips curl into a smirk that’s both sexy and irritating. “How about I remind you how I know that’s a lie.”

“Roman,” I warn, reaching for my gun resting on the countertop in front of me. I know what he’s doing. Rage bubbles inside of me and I can feel the heat of it coat my cheeks as my fingers twitch. I don’t want to take this route, but he’s pushed things too far and I’m on the cusp of letting all my emotions spill out. I don’t want him to see that side of me, not again.

He doesn’t listen, though. Roman steps forward again, forcing me to draw my gun and point it in his direction. Though it’s aimed over his shoulder, I’m not above firing it off just to prove a point. He glances at it like it’s a toy’ as if it couldn’t harm him, even if I wanted it to. I know him well enough to recognize that he only sees this as a game. We’ve done this dance before, and it didn’t end well for me last time.

Actually, that’s a lie, but I’m still trying to forget about how he made me come with my own weapon.

“Presh,” he soothes, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun is so obviously not pointed at him that he laughs. “Don’t tempt me with a good time. I’d love nothing more than for you to wear my blood.”

He’s mocking me and I hate it.

“I mean it!” I bark, though my shaking hand is a contradiction to my words. It’s taking everything within me to keep calm right now and resist repositioning the gun on him. The fact that he even followed me back from the club is enraging, not to mention his taunts. I don’t want to be within two miles of Roman right now, because the mere thought of what he’s done is enough for me to want to pull the trigger. Obviously, I wouldn’t kill him, just maim him a little.

His hand closes around mine, and I swallow heavily as his lithe, tattooed fingers click the magazine release button. The magazine falls to the floor with a clatter that makes me jump. The distraction is enough for Roman to swipe the gun out of my hands and spin me around until I’m bent over the kitchen island, my cheek pressed against the cold surface.

“I’m beginning to regret buying you this,” he comments, placing the gun beside my head.

A huff mixed with a whine escapes my throat. There goes my self-control.

I hate that he remembers he gave me my first gun.

I hate that I still have it.

I hate that I couldn’t move on, even when I thought I had a reason to.

Maybe if I had, we wouldn’t be here right now and I’d have less to worry about. I could focus more on my career and less on my relationship with the asshole who is now smoothing his tongue over the side of my neck.

My pussy clenches like the needy bitch she is. That’s always my reaction to Roman, whether it’s the right moment or not. The attraction between us is so cataclysmic that it’d take a bomb squad to tear us apart.

That’s the problem, though. We’re so chaotic and toxic that our first thought isn’t to communicate the issue but to fuck our troubles away. Is this how it’ll always be between us? A battle of push and pull, constantly ignoring the danger we pose to one another’s feelings?

Maybe it’s time I changed the pattern.

Deep down, Roman has always been it for me. The day he left was something I never want to return to, but I’d be a total liar if I said that I can imagine being with anyone else now.

I try to push back, but his hand has my head pinned down so hard I swear I’ll have the imprint of the tiles on my skin for days. His hot breath skates past my cheek and the words that follow are both infuriating and dangerously seductive all at the same time. “Fight me all you want, but you know I always win, Presh.”

This is typical Roman. avoiding the fact he’s upset me by appealing to the weakest part of me. The part that goes feral and wanton whenever he’s around. I’ve always said that there’s a fine line between love and hate, and right now, the line is so fucking blurred that not even glasses will help me discern it. I know my anger is the driving force, because Roman would never do anything intentional to hurt me. But I won’t lie, I’m torn between the anguish coursing through my veins and the rage to try and fight back.

I let the latter consume me, throwing my elbow back. It connects with his face with a crunch I feel in my own bones, making him stumble off me. It’s not much, but it gives me enough space to escape him. Rounding the island, I grab my gun and put as much distance between us as I can.

“Lani,” he growls, holding his nose as he glances at my hand. “It’s empty.”

Shit.

“Fuck you,” I snap back, launching the gun at him. It hits him in the shoulder, but he doesn’t budge from his position.

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” His lips curve into a sinful smile, blood coating his teeth and completely taking me off guard long enough for him to march towards me. I’m not about to go down without a fight, though. He can’t just use sex as a weapon—as good as the sex between us is—and expect everything to be forgiven. He only gets a few steps in front of me before I reach for one of the throw cushions from the couch, tossing it his way. I know it won’t do damage, but it’s the distraction I need so that I can sprint to my bedroom while he either dodges or catches it.

Unfortunately, I don’t get far. With Roman’s freakishly long—and sexy—legs, I barely have the doorknob in my hand before his own grip my hips, spinning me around and pinning me to the wall beside the bedroom door.

A growl erupts from my chest, fury and frustration colliding together. “Get off me!”

I go to swing for him, but he grabs both my wrists and slams them against the wall on either side of my head. “Never,” he states, his tone husky. His eyes are dark, hauntingly so. Those devastating blue eyes I always get lost in are holding me captive. “I’ll never let you go, Presh. Once was enough, I’ll never make that mistake again.”

I don’t know why my chest flutters with that thought, but when his lips seek mine in a way that makes my heartbeat thunder, I don’t stop him.

He slides his tongue into my mouth, a rush of hunger and passion leading his actions, tainted with blood. It’s amazing how quickly I can go from hating the very sight of him to wanting him to fuck the rage out of me. Because damnit, I really want him to. Every kiss is filled with emotion, every look is filled with intention. I’m an independent woman, through and through, but Roman is my weakness. He’s the only person to have stolen, shattered, and repaired my heart. He’s ruined me, and I’m not sure that’s ever something I’m willing to let go of.

“Ro—” I grumble my protest against his lips, sucking in a breath when his fingertips snake beneath my top and roll over my nipple.

With his lips trailing across my jaw and neck, spreading blood all over my skin, like marking me with his initial wasn’t enough. He’s far too busy to acknowledge my real issue, which is that after tonight, there’s no way I can go back to the academy. Even if my brother did let Prescott go, it’d be a total contradiction for me to become a police officer now. Right?

“Come on, Lani,” he growls as he pushes my shirt up my body. “I did what I had to and you know it.” He bites my nipple through my bra, eliciting another moan that makes my back arch. My leg slides over his waist, encouraging him to lift me by the backs of my thighs and carry me to my bed. I should put up more of a fight; push Roman away so we can discuss our current predicament and set boundaries. But between his words and actions, I’m finding it so damn hard to focus. I hear his words, and they make sense. But the other part of me is hurt that we’re both right. He has a job to do, and that job overlaps with my life. One of us has to take priority, and I fear it’s not me.

“So did I,” I whisper back.

His gaze lifts to mine, and it’s the first time since he stepped into this apartment that I see the quiet understanding written all over his face. He’s not questioning me on why I freed Prescott, because deep down, he knows the answer. But I also know that he’s using Prescott as an excuse to make up for what happened five years ago. Just like he did with Ashton Greedy, he’s trying to prove that there’s only one way to take down the enemy. And I’d believe that if it weren’t for my goddamn morals.

“Family comes first,” he reminds me, his tone low and filled with desire.

It’s annoying how he keeps returning to that motto because essentially, the NYPD could very well be my family one day, given the chance. Something tells me that’s not going to be possible, but what if it was? What if I could have both?

My dad asked me to promise to look out for my brother, and while the thought had already crossed my mind, his words held more than a promise. He didn’t say it in so many words, but I know what he was asking of me. Proving I’m not like my family is a stretch, and I’ve slowly started accepting that. Given what I saw tonight, I’d be a liar if I said a part of me wasn’t impressed with the damage Roman did to Prescott. It wasn’t just for me, but for The Five. If I’d seen the state of Ashton Greedy and his friend after Roman was finished with them, I’d probably say the same. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe. But I didn’t inflict the pain, I just wished I had.

Dirty cops are a dime a dozen in New York. It wouldn’t be unusual for me to fall into that category, especially with my family connections. But I’d like to think I could be more than that. The battle starts in my head, and I’m just about ready to scream when I’m pulled out of my thoughts.

“What’re you thinking, Presh?” Roman towers above me, his brows knitting together with curiosity. Blood is smeared across his usually flawless skin, making him look like a psychotic clown. I have no doubt I look just as crazy, but that’s us. His pillowy lips are pressed together, so kissable that I’m going to resent myself for ruining this moment, but this is something we need.

“You’re right,” I sigh. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath because part of me doesn’t want to see the smug expression on Roman’s face right now. “Family comes first.”

He wraps his fingers around my chin. The possessive touch isn’t lost on me, but I do enjoy it. All I can feel is the heat of his face radiating onto mine as he runs his nose along my own. The action makes my stomach leap, the same effect it’s always had on me because this was our thing. When words became too much, this was enough. “What’re you saying?”

Opening my eyes, I peer into his. “I’m saying… my reasons for joining the NYPD might be changing.”

My honest words seem to confuse him, and for a second I see a flash of fear cross his features. I know how this might sound, but I need him to hear me out.

“You have your place in this world, and so do I. I don’t want to lose my place in the academy, Ro. I don’t want… to lose you. I want to become something, but that doesn’t mean my family doesn’t come first.”

He nods in silent understanding, allowing me the breathing space to get my thoughts out.

“Whatever Prescott did, it was me that needed to handle it,” I say, and as Roman goes to interrupt, I place my finger on his lips. “It could have been my leverage, or… something. I don’t know. But if we’re going to do this, we need to be on the same page. And that means that if our worlds intercept, we need to work together.”

Roman kisses my fingertip with a smile curling his beautiful mouth. “Then we work together.”

“Good,” I smile back, relief flooding me. “I just need to keep my spot.”

“You will,” he replies with conviction. “And if it’s ever in jeopardy?—”

I slam my hand over his mouth, laughing. “Don’t finish that sentence!”

A moment later, his lips are back on mine. There are no more words between us as we let our desire for one another take over. My fingers slide through his blonde strands as he moves down my chest, licking and nipping at my flesh until I’m a panting mess. His mouth is everywhere, his hands owning every single part of my body. Like he’s telling a story that only he knows.

Moments pass where his presence consumes me. His lips devour every inch of my skin as he makes quick work of stripping us out of our clothes. Hooking my knees over his shoulders, he darts his tongue out, flicking my clit so sharply I hiss. Pleasure thrums in my veins, my body heating with the intensity of anticipation. Meticulously, Roman teases me with light strokes of his tongue and fingers. It’s barely a caress, but the intention behind each movement is enough. My legs shake and my back arches as a deep moan strokes my vocal cords. My whimpers turn to cries as Roman somehow makes me come without so much as a definitive touch. The world around me shatters like glass, creating a fragmented view where all I see is him.

I chalk it up to the tension between us, the fire that spurs our destruction, because that’s ultimately what we do to one another. Whether we want to admit it or not, we’re going to destroy one another someday. But I know amidst the chaos, we’ve got something deeper than anyone could have imagined. On the outside, Roman is a dark enigma, someone a stranger would never wish to cross. But to me, he’s everything and more.

As soon as my breaths deepen and the euphoric wave of my orgasm subsides, Roman slides his cock inside me. It’s not a sharp thrust, or a punishing drive of his hips. It’s gentle and meaningful. He doesn’t own my body in the usual way that makes me see stars, he takes his time, the intent as clear as the words he uttered to me before.

I’ll never let you go.

Our eyes lock onto one another’s as my walls tighten. That familiar ball of wound up energy grows vibrant and hot in the pit of my stomach. I feel the magnetic pull in my chest, the one I know I’ve been ignoring, not just for these past few months, but years. Sooner or later, Roman was going to come back into my life. Not just in increments, but bulldozing his way in. He’s torn apart everything I thought I knew about us, myself included, and in its place, provided me with something I didn’t think I needed.

Him.

His lips press to mine in a soft, yet heavy kiss that I feel in every surge of his hips. Heat and pleasure builds between us, slow and determined. Time falls away, allowing us to get lost in the moment, consuming every moan, every groan, every curse that leaves our lips. Our breaths tangle in an explosive dance as we pant through our mutual climax. And when Roman’s name leaves my lips as I gasp for oxygen, my body shudders.

But it’s his words that really leave me breathless.

“I love you, Presh.”