The Auction House Deal: Bought by A Billionaire

Chapter 177: Closer Together: Hannah

"It’s okay," he assured me. "They’ve checked the car. It’s safe. We will get home and bunker down for a little while to give us some peace of mind. Things will be okay. We just have to take it one step at a time. Like getting home right now."

"Okay," I breathed. "You’re right."

Together, we moved to the car and got inside. One bodyguard sat next to me, while the other two sat up front.

It was always a bit of a weird feeling to transition back to the back seat. It reminded me of being a kid. I didn’t like it. It was necessary, though, as it was safer to have them up front.

An idea came to mind and I looked to Roman.

"Do you think maybe we should get new cars?" I asked.

"Maybe it would help things. We could move about town a little easier."

He tilted his head side to side. "Maybe, but it’s likely they are close to the house, you know? And they would see them and take note. I don’t think it would slow them down enough to make it worth it."

"Right," I muttered, a deep frown coming over my face. I should have known that. I felt a bit silly for not having thought of that. Maybe I needed to hold onto my ideas a bit longer before just spouting off at the hip.

My mind felt frantic to find a solution to make things easier for us. Surely there had to be something we could do to avoid them, but maintain a normal life, right?

If there was, we surely would have figured it out all those months ago, so that we didn’t have to stay inside the house for weeks on end. My stomach twisted into big knots just at the thought. Was that what we were going back to?

As we rode through town, I was starting to think that was what I wanted, even if it wasn’t necessary. Being safe and at home, where I knew Roman and I would be okay, was the only thing I could think of at the moment that would bring me any sort of comfort.

Roman and I hugged to one another the entire way home. It once again made me think of being a teenager. While I had never been allowed to date, I had heard stories about people cuddling or kissing in the backseat while their parents drove them about.

It was weird to know we were being watched and likely passively judged, while adults. I didn’t really feel like I could be myself, and yet there was a stubborn part of my brain that wanted to be myself anyways and hold onto Roman as though my life depended on it.

I didn’t feel like I could even relax a little until we were in the house. Yet, I didn’t even ease. I could breathe, but my body just refused to move from its rigid position.

Roman guided us to the elevator and we headed up to our room. He sat me down and kneeled in front of me.

Before he could even open his mouth, I was analyzing all the little cuts about his face. How awful they looked and how I felt like I was to blame. I knew I couldn’t control his actions, and I knew that he wanted to be in my life, but I just... I didn’t know.

If we had never met, he wouldn’t be living like this. He would be off living a bachelor lifestyle, or at least off with another socialite woman. Living a glamorous and carefree life.

"I think you’re in shock," he whispered.

It wasn’t until he said that I realized just how much I was shaking. The realization caused tears to well up in my eyes.

I was in shock, or mourning, or a nondescript state of being that could be no better summarized than overwhelmed. My brain just didn’t want to cope with the fact that this was once again our lives. And that it was all because of me.

Well, I guess my father, but he was already facing justice. Why was it that we were still paying for his sins? Why did he have to unleash such a merciless evil onto us?

With care, Roman moved me to lay down and laid down next to me. He held me closely, and I shook my head.

"I’m supposed to be holding you," I muttered.

"You were the one who was just nearly run down by a car."

"I’m okay. And just because it wasn’t you doesn’t mean you can’t have a hard time with it," he assured me.

After just a little more hesitation, I finally brought the wall down. Tears flowed from me easily. My tender mind just simply couldn’t wrap around just how unfair life had been and continued to be.

I had a loving husband and the world on a string because of our wealth, and yet I lived in fear. I was forced into a life of a shut-in. All to protect myself from literal murder or kidnapping. I was one wrong turn from being dead or sex-trafficked, and there wasn’t much I could do about it but stay indoors. They were even coming after my husband.

My heart couldn’t take it.

I ached all over just at the thought of something happening to him. Something worse than just scratches from glass.

Roman squeezed me and brought me into his chest. I was so thankful he was there, that he was able to hold me.

That nothing worse had happened.

My mind began running on incessant little loops. Woes about how it was unfair this was our life, how happy I was he was okay, how our life was returning to a state of paranoia and fear. Then again, had I ever left it to begin with? I had always been looking over my shoulder and around every corner, worried that something was lingering in the shadows, waiting to pounce on me the moment I was vulnerable.

Roman began kissing over my shoulders in attempt to calm me.

At first, I wasn’t moved by the gesture. Sure, I appreciated the tenderness and attention, but I was still stuck in my state of woe.

When his lips so much as grazed my neck, however, a new wave of emotion passed over me. At first, it was comfort. Then, appreciation. Every little touch and kiss, no matter how non-sexual they were, evoked desire in me. It was an overpour of emotion, of neediness, of love for him.

Before I knew it, I was stealing his lips in a kiss.

A peck grew into something long, passionate, and lingering. Holding one another turned into heavy petting and groping. Emotions were transforming and goals were reorienting.

There was just something about him that never failed to get under my skin. It was like the slightest stroke of his hand could set a wildfire of desire aflame in me; even when things were tense and complicated.

After just a few minutes of kissing and heavy petting, we were pulling one another’s clothes off.

I kicked off my heels as he tugged down my tights, while my hands busied themselves with unbuckling his belt.

Some people may have judged our ability to get physical during such stressful and perhaps inappropriate times. However, I couldn’t think of anything that was more comforting in moment’s like that, than physical touch. And it was hard not to get carried away when I loved him so much, and had so much passion for our relationship.

He moved on top of me and hiked my sweater dress up around my hips. With care, he pushed into me.

My fingers knotted in his hair while my tongue explored the inside of his mouth with liberty. I loved him, and I loved what he did to me.

We moved in unison, and our lips were never not touching some part of one another.

It was our silent declaration that we were there for one another. That we weren’t going anywhere. And we would get through it together.

His hips pumped into me steadily, and then rapidly. I heard myself moan and groan into the air above us. I loved him, and I knew he loved me, too.

I gripped to him, moved my hips against his, and called out his name. He groaned and slipped a hand between us, rubbing at my bud as he picked up the pace of his hips.

We were going at it hard, fast, and needily. We needed that release. We needed to get one another off. We needed that moment of closeness and togetherness.

We climaxed together and laid there, with him still on top of me, panting and holding one another. He kissed my shoulders and the top of my head, and I scratched his back.

Nothing was said between us, our thoughts still heavy even after just having sex.

At least we had a little reassurance, no matter how primal, that we were there for