The Holloways (Made for Love Book 3.5) by R.C. Martin

his hand down and pinches my clit, causing my orgasm to annihilate me.
    “Roman!” I call out.
    “Fuck, yeah, babe—fuck, yes,” he groans, his climax on the heels of mine.
    When he is spent, he collapses on top of me. I have neither the strength, nor the energy to fight the sob that crawls up my throat. As I cry, I know that my tears are a mixture of both pleasure and pain.
    “Are you done peeing on me now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
    I feel his body stiffen against mine. “What did you say?”
    “Nothing. Never mind. Will you please get off of me? I have to shower.”
    He does as I ask, his hand gently grazing my back as I crawl out of bed. “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”
    I shake my head, refusing to look at him. I know that if I look into his pretty brown eyes, I’ll forget that I’m mad. I’ll forget that somewhere, deep down, he knows what he’s doing and he knows that it’s unnecessary. I’ll forget because I know that in his eyes, all I’ll see is his love for me. So instead, I ignore him and head for the shower.
    Every morning this week has been the same. He wakes me up. He fucks me. We argue over my choice in wardrobe. Then I go to work. On Monday, it was different. He made love to me and it was about us. But on Tuesday, and every day that has followed, it’s not about us. It’s about him. It’s about Judah. It’s about what my husband won’t say. He hates that I spend everyday with a man that he will never trust.
    I belong to Roman, and yet he feels the need to claim me every morning before I go into the office. While my body appreciates his dominance, while my body adores jealous Roman, my heart is getting a little tired of him.
    I'm in the shower for all of two seconds before I have company. I close my eyes, tilting my head back as I let the water drench my hair, and pretend I'm unfazed by his presence. I'm still not ready to look him in the eyes.
    “Hey,” he speaks softly, wrapping his arms around my middle. He pulls me against him and I sigh, resting my forehead against his shoulder. “What was that about? What's wrong?”
    “If you don't know, then we don't have time to get into it. I have to get ready to go.”
    I start to turn away from him but he tightens his grip, pinning me in place. “Talk to me, Logan. Look at me.”
    I bring my eyes up to meet his and it hits me all at once.
    My frustration.
    My adoration.
    The moment.
    I curse my heart as my eyes well up. He didn't even know we were fighting before the moment came. That's just not fair.
    “I can't do this. We can't do this every morning. It doesn't feel good, Rome.”
    He lifts an eyebrow at me, a smug smile playing at his lips. “I think my pussy would—”
    “I'm not talking about your damn pussy, Roman!” I yell, pressing both hands against his chest in an effort to push him away from me. When he doesn't budge, I hit my fist against him in frustration. He doesn't even flinch, which only exasperates me more. “I married you. I'm yours. I'm yours ,” I insist, reaching up to hold his face between my hands. “Nothing anybody says or does will change that.”
    “I know,” he mutters, peering down at me with a scowl.
    “Then stop treating me like your fire-hydrant.”
    He shakes his head once, bringing a hand up to cover one of mine, encasing my fingers in his warmth. “I'm not.”
    “You're not?” I ask incredulously, pulling my hands from his face. “Then tell me that wasn't about him. Tell me you woke up horny and the fact that I'll be spending my day in the office with Judah didn't cross your mind, not even once. Tell me, and don't you dare lie.” He presses his lips into a tight line and I get my answer. My love. He doesn't lie to me. A blessing and a curse. Just now, I would have preferred the lie.
    “He kissed me one time , a y ear and a half ago!”
    “You don't see the way he looks at you.”
    “What does it matter? It means nothing to me.”
    “It matters, Logan.”
    “You can't