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True Mate

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Roman ended the call, shaking his head. Running his hands through his wild tresses, he sucked a deep breath, releasing some of his pent-up tension as he exhaled. After so much excitement for one night, he was ready to chow down and hit the hay. Keeping himself busy tidying up for the next few minutes, he received a text from his friend, notifying him he was coming up. It was a safety precaution, an unspoken agreement between the two after Eugene had unwittingly barged in on Roman in the throes of a particularly vigorous hook up.

A minute later and Roman opened the door before Eugene could knock. Leaning against the door frame, his big, hulking body blocking passage, Eugene smirked, handing him his bag.

“You’re really going all out, huh,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Roman snatched the bag and handed him fifty in cash.

“For your pains, motherfucker.”

“You, too, asshole.”

Clapping each other on the shoulder, Eugene left. They had a brotherly bond that many didn’t understand. Eugene was tall, dark and handsome. An intellectual, with an eye for art and appreciation for culture. Whereas Roman was a hulk, standing at six foot four, the build of a ripped bodybuilder, wasn’t sophisticated or cultured. He was a brute; a deadly and dangerous man you did not want to cross. Though he could be considered handsome, most women didn’t consider him relationship material. He liked to roughhouse. He liked to drink. He liked gambling and working on his motorcycle.

He enjoyed his freedom anyway.


He heard a timid whimper from the bathroom door. Turning his attention to the ravishing blonde standing there in just a towel, he stiffened.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

He realized what she was asking with those damning blue eyes of hers.


“Oh, yeah,” he said, opening his bedroom closet.

His hands grabbed the first things he saw, handing them over to the enticing morsel. She muttered a soft ‘thanks’ before disappearing into the bathroom once more. He needed a distraction from the image of her stripping off his towel and standing naked in his bathroom. Unpacking the small, white takeout boxes, the familiar sweet and savory aroma of barbecued meat, grilled vegetables and lavash filling the air helped calm him.


This is killing me...

Serving up two plates, steam curling off the delicious looking food, he set them down on the coffee table. He figured she’d want to be distracted by the television instead of trying to make conversation with a stranger. The sound of the bathroom door opening, she reappeared dressed in his over sized clothes. Turing to appraise how they fit, he was at once disappointed that the baggy hoodie and joggers hid all her curves.


He smirked when he saw her blush.


She visibly squirmed, avoiding eye contact.


Her cheeks flushed brighter as he came closer, his big hand reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. When his fingers lightly brushed against her ear, she shivered at his touch.

“I got some food for you,” he said, moving to the living room.

Following him, she smiled when she saw two plates topped with food that he knew looked absolutely mouthwatering.

He was surprised as she stepped beside him and hugged his arm. He went very still, afraid to move, before she released him and went to sit on the couch.

“This looks lovely… Did you make this yourself?”

An innocent question that to him felt barbed.

Shit. So she prefers guys who can cook, huh?

“Me? Nah,” he chuckled, sheepish, “I called in a favor.”

The brief embarrassment was worth seeing her eyes going round, surprised. She probably would never expect something like this of a man she just met. Lowering her face, blushing even redder than before.

“That’s very kind of you.”

Her tone was so soft, shy. Handing her, her plate, he joined her on the couch and turned on the television.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

The muted tang of her change in scent caught him off guard, hitting his sensitive nose. It was so delicious and strong, he could taste it on his tongue. Ignoring it, he settled back against the plush leather and started in on his food. She must have been starving, as she tucked into the meal, barely paying attention to the flickering screen.

When they’d both finished, he cleared their dishes, taking them to the sink and running hot water over the cheap porcelain and letting them soak. He’d enjoyed watching her practically inhale the food, plus the little moans of satisfaction that went along with it. He savored every breathy morsel that graced his ears. Returning to the couch, he grinned; she was fast asleep. The angel had been through hell tonight and she must be exhausted.

Slipping one hand under her knees, the other supporting her back, he gathered her up into his arms. Only stirring a little, her breathing even and deep, he carried her to his bed. Tucking her beneath the comforter, he drew in a deep breath as he looked over the sleeping beauty. He knew tomorrow he’d have to take her back to wherever she was staying; he would have to let her go. But he felt a connection with her he had never felt before, and he didn’t want to say goodbye. A sigh escaped his lips and he frowned, not wanting to think about anything else but the here and now.

Returning to the living room like a scolded pup, he continued watching whatever happened to catch his interest, not bothering to even change into his sweats. As dawn approached, he went in to check on her. What he saw made him kick himself. Sometime in the last few hours, she’d taken off his clothes and was now lying completely naked in his bed.


The covers bunched around her waist, exposing her full, milky-white breasts. Her nipples stood to attention in the chilly morning air, the flesh around them pebbled. Swallowing thickly, he leaned over her to adjust the blanket, trying not to disturb her. Feeling himself throb with need for this perilous vixen, he tore his gaze away from her angelic, sleeping face. Just seeing her plump, rosy lips had him fantasizing about her mouth...


Leaving the room post haste, he decided to take a very, very cold shower.

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