From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 36

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 36**

Roman’s presence was palpable, a force that could not be ignored.

Yet, unlike the others, his desires weren’t merely greedy; they were something far more sinister. They felt like a brewing tempest, heavy and foreboding, a dark cloud looming on the horizon.

Then the music began to play. It was sultry, a rich tapestry of sound that wrapped around us like a velvet cloak. The bass thumped with a primal rhythm, evoking an intoxicating sense of allure. It was as if the very act of rolling up the partition was an invitation to surrender.

Dean blinked, his eyes wide, as though he were trying to discern if I was a mirage or a reality. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a desperate need to absorb every detail of the moment.

Chloe, on the other hand, was rigid beside him, her mouth slightly agape in disbelief.

And there was Roman—oh, Roman. He was a vision, his legs spread confidently, hands gripping his thighs with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were dark, almost feral, and his chest heaved as if he had just completed a marathon. But still, he remained utterly still, a statue of desire.

With a purposeful stride, I made my way to the stage, my movements reminiscent of a dream—slow, measured, and deliberate. Every step was a dance, a prelude to the storm that was about to unfold.

I caught a glimpse of Roman’s jaw tightening, a telltale sign of the inner conflict raging within him.

As I dropped into a squat before the vacant chair, I spread my thighs slowly, deliberately, as the lights focused on me, illuminating my every curve. My fingers glided up my inner thigh, teasingly caressing the fabric of my corset, before tangling in my hair. With a swift motion, I tossed my hair back, snapping my neck in a way that drew Roman’s gaze like a moth to a flame.

He was breathless.

I couldn’t help but smile, a small, confident curve of my lips that sent a thrill through the air.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, crossing his legs in a futile attempt to conceal the undeniable arousal that coursed through him. Chloe’s nails dug into the armrest, her expression morphing into one of brittle annoyance. She feigned a yawn, a poor disguise for the fury simmering beneath her surface.

I rolled my hips once, then twice, surrendering to the rhythm that enveloped me. I moved as though I were liquid, gliding around the chair, straddling it backward, leaning forward so that my breasts nearly grazed the top rail.

With a fluid grace, I lowered myself into a squat, my legs spreading wide, a motion that twisted Chloe’s features into a mask of irritation, while Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and Roman’s pupils dilated, darkening with raw desire.

I executed a flawless split, my body undulating with the beat, rising smoothly to my feet. I sauntered to the chair, my fingers trailing along its edges as I hooked my leg over it, finally straddling the seat.

Throughout this dance, my gaze remained locked on Roman, who squirmed in his seat, a mixture of arousal and jealousy flickering in his eyes.

Roman sipped his drink, his grip on the glass tightening to the point of whiteness. His eyes blazed with a hunger that was impossible to ignore.

“Dean?” I heard him mutter under his breath, discomfort threading through his tone.

Roman’s knuckles were white as he clenched his drink, never breaking eye contact with me.

I dropped to all fours, crawling toward him with a sultry grace, my heart racing as I grasped his collar, pulling him closer.

Standing before him, I purred, “The show is just beginning.”

Dean leaned forward instinctively, his curiosity piqued.

I grinned, my gaze unwavering. “Roman.”

A smirk danced on Roman’s lips as he discarded his drink, rising with a slow, calculated grace that reminded me of a lion toying with its prey.

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