The Procedure (13 page)

ROMAN’S PROCEDURE ONLY
worked when I was with him. He was building my confidence. When I was with him, I smiled more. I was happier, which was something I tried to keep tucked away in the back of my mind.

After his sweet words in the dressing room, I felt like I could take on the world. Roman thought I was beautiful. He’d said it before, but something about the way he said it the last time made me feel like he was telling the truth. I felt it in the way he treated me—in the way he looked at me. I needed everything he was giving me, but I had to remember that I needed those things from Michael, not Roman.

After leaving Roman’s car when we got back to his office, I got in my car and went back to the boutique. The saleslady helped me pick out a few things that looked ‘sexy’ on me, and I left there with a bag of goodies that I fully planned on wearing for Michael.

I lugged my bags into my house and dropped them with a sigh. Tossing my purse on the table next to the front door, I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom to start digging through my bags.

“Where have you been?” Michael asked from behind me.

I turned to find him standing in our bedroom doorway, his brows pulled down in anger.

“I did some shopping,” I said, turning away to continue to pull out my new clothes.

I could practically feel his eye roll behind my back before I heard him sigh. Then he was beside me, lifting a pair of black lace panties up after I’d pulled them out of the bag.

“Trying again, I see,” he murmured.

It was then I noticed there was a slight slur to his words. I turned to look up at him to see that his eyes were glazed over. He had been nursing his scotch bottle already today, which had to mean he’d lost a case.

Tugging on the sleeves of his expensive coat, he adjusted his tie. He looked nice, but I wasn’t about to waste my breath telling him that. I could tell by the look on his face he already knew it anyway.

For the first time in a long while, I found him unattractive. The knowing smirk on his face and his perfectly gelled hair was kind of embarrassing. Roman, on the other hand, had a sweet smile—one with dimples and honesty. His hair was never perfect, but the tousled style was attractive on him. He wasn’t perfectly shaved, and the memory of his rough cheek against mine in the back of his limo made me shiver.

Suddenly, I had no desire to dress pretty for Michael. Why couldn’t he love me just the way I was? Why couldn’t he be turned on by me without me having to jump through hoops?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not trying anything.”

Stepping around him, I slid against the wall and walked away.

He followed me down the stairs, right on my heels. I entered the kitchen and ruffled Duke’s head before I turned to find him standing there with his hands on his hips.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said honestly.

There was nothing going on with me. I was simply getting tired of trying when it came to him. Nothing I did changed anything anyway. What was the point? I was starting to have a hard time remembering exactly what I was fighting for.

“No. You’re different. You never walk away from me that way, and if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I like it very much.”

Again, I looked at him and again, he looked different to me.

“Seriously, Michael. Don’t be such a child. You look like you were about to go somewhere important. Go. I’ll see if I can’t keep myself occupied while you’re gone.”

I turned away from him. Opening the door to the refrigerator, I began searching for a bottle of water.

“You aren’t going to at least ask where I’m going?” His voice echoed against the kitchen tile.

There was a hint of insecurity in his voice that made him sound like his old self, but still, I was beginning to get annoyed. Any other time, he would leave without regard to me, but then again, wasn’t he doing exactly what I wanted him to do?

Standing, I shut the refrigerator door and leaned against it. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Where are you going?” I asked.

His eyes moved down my body before he looked me in the eye. It was a rare occurrence and any other time, I would have relished in his eye contact, but I couldn’t. I looked away, pretending to adjust my shirt.

“Are you fucking someone else?” he asked abruptly.

And there Michael was. I was wondering when he would come back to me. Looking up as if caught in the headlights, I stared at him, aghast. “Are you seriously asking me that again?” I countered.

“Answer the question, Samantha.” He used his lawyer voice—his stern voice that rebuked any argument.

“And what would you say if I was, huh?” I could hardly believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, but I enjoyed the response they garnered me. “It’s no secret you have your fair share of women. Why shouldn’t the same rules apply to me?”

I was bluffing. Other men barely noticed me. With the exception of a kiss with Roman, that I was sure would never happen again, I was completely faithful.

Michael moved across the room to me and grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my bicep, pinching my skin. Red flushed his cheeks and his nostrils flared.

“You’re mine. You got that? Whoever he is, get rid of him or I will.”

Was that a threat? It sounded like a threat, but I wasn’t sure. Of course, the irrational side of me flourished under his jealousy. What kind of sick woman was I? I couldn’t help but feel like his reaction meant he still cared about me. If the thought of another man’s hands on me was making him this crazy, he had to still love me.

When he dropped my arm, I reached out and rubbed the spots where his fingers had dug. His eyes followed my movements and sorrow moved across his eyes before he spun on his heels, leaving me standing there alone in the kitchen, still clueless as to where he was going.

That night, I pretended to be asleep when he got home. He walked by the bed, and the scent of women’s perfume broke my heart all over again. The shower water turned on, and the bathroom door closed quietly. A tiny tear rushed down my cheek before I fell asleep.

THE NEXT MORNING
when I woke up, Michael was already gone for the day. With new reserve, I went to my closet, pulling out the white dress I’d bought the day before. A sweet summer dress that pinched my waist and made me feel pretty. If Roman wanted me to wear something sexy, then I was going to wear something sexy.

After showering and blow-drying my hair, I applied makeup and jewelry before slipping into the dress. I checked myself in the mirror once more before leaving. I didn’t technically have an appointment with Roman, but after smelling the women’s perfume on Michael the night before, and remembering all the sweet words Roman had said to me the day before, I was in the wrong state of mind.

As I sat in the waiting room waiting to be called back, excitement worked its way into my chest. I couldn’t wait to see what Roman thought of my look. Michael had already made himself very clear that I looked ridiculous wearing such an outfit, but maybe that was just him trying to belittle me as usual.

The new nurse put me in an actual room instead of Roman’s office. I didn’t know if it was because she was new or if it was because I hadn’t had an appointment, but either way, when I stepped in and saw the paper-covered bed, I felt heat on my cheeks.

Once I was in the room, I peeled off my jacket. I was welcomed by silence as I waited impatiently for the familiar sound of his clipboard and his light knock on the door. I jumped and stood, adjusting my dress, when his knock rang throughout the room. I tensed when he stepped into the room.

Keeping his eyes on his clipboard, he spoke. “Good morning, Samantha. I trust you’re doing well today?”

And then he looked up, his eyes widening just a fraction as they slowly moved across my face, down my body, and to my legs. I widened my stance instinctively, knowing that my dress would rise and show him some leg. I wasn’t sure what it was about Roman, but he made me feel brazen and brave.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered to himself, his eyes moving their way back up to my face.

His reaction made me nervous. Perhaps he thought the same things Michael did. Maybe he thought I was too old to wear a dress that was so sexy. I put my hands down to cover my legs a bit when my shyness slipped back in.

“Is it that bad?” I asked. “You said I should wear things that made me feel sexy and pretty and well, this is…”

“Completely delicious,” he interrupted.

Heat enveloped my cheeks and moved through me.

Quickly, he cleared his throat and went to his seat. He pulled on his white coat so that it covered the unmistakable bulge in his scrubs.

“What I mean to say is, you look very nice, Samantha.”

I loved how he said my name. He didn’t call me
Sam
, with contempt dripping from his lips the way Michael did. He said my name like I was someone, like my name felt good moving around his mouth. It turned me on in the strangest way.

“Thank you,” I said.

Taking a seat, I crossed my legs and placed my hands in my lap. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to my legs again.

“So how are things at home?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard. It was weird for him to look at me the way he was and ask about my home life with my husband at the same time.

“Uh, things are changing,” I said.

His eye searched my face before he looked away and asked, “Changing how?”

I explained to him everything that happened after I got home from shopping. I was honest about the entire event. His jaw twitched when I mentioned how Michael had grabbed my arm. I finished with how he’d come home smelling like another woman. I put my head down when I felt the tears rush to my eyes after the story. I was doing better, but I still felt embarrassed by the fact that my husband so openly cheated on me.

I gasped when I felt his warm finger on my chin. He lifted my face up and looked down at me.

“He’s an idiot, Samantha. Don’t you shed another tear for that man.”

His finger moved up to wipe away the hot tear that leaked from my eye and made a run for my cheek.

I nodded since my voice was trapped in my throat. His hand moved up, his fingers getting lost in my hair, and I closed my eyes to his touch. His other hand cupped the side of my face and I nestled into his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered down to me.

And then he leaned down and kissed me. Gripping his hands, I kissed him back. Standing without breaking the kiss, I moved into his space, the heat of his body soothing me, and a manly moan worked its way into my mouth.

When I opened to him, he swept his tongue into my mouth, the taste of him coating my tongue. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled his kiss deeper into me. I couldn’t get enough.

He moved me until the back of my thighs collided with the bed. The paper covering the bed crinkled loudly as I pressed against it. Instinctively, I lifted my leg, allowing him to move between my legs. His hardness pressed against my white, lace panties. Pulling back, he cupped my cheeks and looked down at me with heavy breaths.

“What are you doing to me?” he asked, confusion in his eyes.

And then his lips came down onto mine again and, again, I opened for him. His hand released my face and cupped the back of my knee. Slowly, he worked his hand up my thigh and under my dress until he was squeezing my hip. My dress was riding up, giving him full view of my panties, but I didn’t care.

Leaning back, he looked down and closed his eyes on a growl. Working my hands up his chest, I pushed his white coat from his shoulders, leaving him standing in front of me in just his blue scrubs. He looked so sexy. His hair fell into his eyes as he moved in again, kissing me harder and faster. I dug my nails into his back, and he softly nibbled my bottom lip.

His hand moved around my hip until his fingers were teasing the side of my panties and making me crazy.

“Is this okay?” he asked against my lips.

I thrust my hips forward, begging him with my body to touch me. “Please, Roman.”

And then he slipped his hand in the side of my panties and ran his knuckles over me. Already, I felt as if I were about to explode. So long. It had been so long since I’d been touched that way—since my body had been so wet and ready.

Breaking the kiss again, I leaned my head back and moaned his name. My legs fell open for him, and the only sounds in the room were our hard and fast breaths.

Outside the room, it was business as usual, but inside, the heat was on high and I was about to break a vow I made nine years ago. Still, I couldn’t find any remorse for the moment. It was too right—felt too good.

His thumb brushed my clit, and I bit into my lip so hard I was afraid I’d taste blood.

“You’re so wet, love,” he whispered against the side of my neck before sucking the soft skin in between his teeth. “Tell me what you want, Samantha.”

As soon as he asked, he delved two thick fingers deep inside of me, making me lift from the bed and thrust my hips once more.