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Roar (Military Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)

By:Aubrey Irons

An Excerpt:





"I can not believe you!" We've marched back to the room in silence; past the glimmering candles of the light festival and through the shadows dancing on the old stonework walls of the city. But once we're back in the hotel room, I whirl on Bryce.





"Excuse me?" He growls, slamming the door shut as he loosens the tie at his neck.





"You're going to ruin the one chance we've got of getting Logan back, because your fucking ego won't let you just let me do what I have to do!"





"What?!" He explodes; "You think I was going to sit back and just watch that happen?!" He tears his tie off his neck and whips it across the room, his eye steely fire as he glares at me; "Jesus fucking Christ, Peyton, you were shaking back there. You were losing it yourself."





"I was perfectly in control!" I lie, hoping the anger in my voice covers how unconvincing I know I sound.





I whirl and start to storm away, but he grabs my hand, pulling me back and spinning me into him. I gasp as I come crashing into his chest, my hands against him as I look up to see the dark storms of his eyes boring into mine; “I couldn’t watch him just fucking touch you like that,” He growls. I can feel the heat throbbing between us, thick with the unspoken and the words held back; “I couldn’t watch him or any other man in the world put their fucking hands on you.”





“You don’t own me,” I say lowly, yanking my hand away from him storming off towards the bathroom door.





“Yeah? Who’re you trying to convince, sweetheart?” He throws after me.





I slam the door and lean against it, feeling my face burn and my pulse race; damn this man. Damn the way he gets ahold of me like that, damn him for getting under my skin and into my thoughts, and damn him for knowing exactly what to say to me at every turn.





The steam rises quickly from the tap as I crank the hot water up, shedding my clothes as storm-clouds brew across my face. There’s just too much going on right now, too many ups and down and spikes of adrenaline for one night. And truth be told, I need to shower after that debacle with Anderson. I shiver again, thinking of his hand on mine, his thuggish, leering looks stripping away my clothes right there at the table.





But then, as I step under the cleansing hot spray of the water, I think of Bryce. Bryce stepping in to stop it, Bryce taking me away from it all. I don’t need saving. I’m not some fucking damsel in a tower that needs a knight to come swooping in while I faint delicately in the background. But what I need, and what I’ve always needed, is just someone to show they care. Someone to step up to the darkness and face it right there with me, if only just to say “you’re not alone.”





And that’s what he is.





He’s not my savior, he’s my strength. He’s the match that lights the kindling beneath me. For better or for worse, and no matter how much I want it not to be true after what happened a year ago, that’s the role he plays.





And damn him for that.





My mind betrays me as I lean against the shower wall, letting the scalding hot water draw the tension from my skin. I start to think of other things that Bryce Connors does to me. The way his eyes pierce into mine, seeing right into me like no one else ever has, or the way his hands feel sliding over my skin, as if memorizing every curve and every flaw.





And I think of the way his lips feel on mine; the way he kisses me with a searing need and a blazing passion that has me falling apart inside.





My body betrays me then too, and my wayward thoughts of the man I swore to forget but just can’t turn deeper; darker. I think of the ways our bodies fit together, the way his skin feels on mine, the way he gets me trembling and begging for him; the way he makes me come. My nipples slowly harden under the teasing hot spray of the shower, the electric drops of the water sending little sparks through my body as they tease across my chest. Heat blooms forbidden and tempting between my legs, and I bite my lip as a traitorous hand begins to slide down my tummy, over my my hips and down between my legs to feel the slippery wetness there.





The door to the room suddenly opens abruptly, and I gasp, yanked from my reverie by the sound of Bryce jumping out of my forbidden fantasies and storming into the here and now; “What the fuck!” I shriek, yanking my hand away from myself and turning away from the door; “Bryce-“





“Tell me you’ve never thought of us,” His silhouette growls from the other side of the curtain; “Tell me you’ve never thought of what was, that you’ve never second guessed any of it, and I’ll walk back out that door right now.”

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