From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 78

**Chapter 50: A Hostile Takeover**

The atmosphere around us still crackled with residual warmth, a lingering echo of the intensity that had just unfolded. The hallway felt alive, almost as if it were holding its breath, mirroring my own struggle to reclaim my composure.

I pressed my back against the cool wall, the chill biting into my skin, a sharp contrast to the heat still radiating from the moments we had just shared. My dress clung awkwardly around my hips, bunched in a way that would have felt indecent under different circumstances—if either of us had cared about such things.

Roman’s presence loomed over me, his body a protective cage that enveloped mine. One arm was braced against the wall beside my head, while the other gripped the back of my thigh with an intensity that suggested the last few heated minutes hadn’t quite conveyed the message he intended.

We remained frozen in that moment, neither of us willing to break the spell that had been cast.

I fought to steady my breath, my lips still swollen from his kisses, the taste of him lingering like a sweet, intoxicating memory. My heart raced, pounding in my ears as he finally broke the silence.

“That’s twice,” he remarked quietly, his tone almost contemplative, as if he were cataloging our encounters. “And I’m done treating this like some… casual transaction.”

His words sliced through the fog that clouded my mind. His voice was low and gravelly, as if he had been swallowing stones. I couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh, desperately trying to lighten the tension that coiled tightly in my stomach.

“Are you keeping score now? Or do we need to recap the highlights?” I teased, trying to mask the seriousness of the moment.

Roman’s gaze lingered on my mouth, a beat too long, before finally rising to meet my eyes with a fierce intensity.

“No,” he replied, his voice firm and unyielding. “I’m drawing a line.”

My brows knitted together in confusion, my mind racing to comprehend his intentions. “A line?” I echoed, uncertainty creeping into my voice.

His hand slid higher along my thigh, fingers curling possessively as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “This—” he murmured, “doesn’t happen again unless it’s just you and me. No one else gets this. No one else gets to touch you.”

I let out a short, breathy laugh, but his expression remained serious, unwavering. He simply watched me, his dark eyes holding a promise that sent shivers down my spine.

“So, you’re saying you want me to be your GFE and PSES? Is that correct, Roman?” I asked, trying to gauge the seriousness of his intentions.

“No. Never.” His thumb brushed the inside of my thigh, slow and deliberate, igniting a fire within me. “I’m putting terms on the table, Savannah.”

Terms. He spoke as if we were engaged in a business negotiation instead of tangled in the aftermath of something far more intimate. My brows arched in surprise, but I kept my voice steady.

“Terms?” I questioned, intrigued yet cautious.

A flicker of something passed across his face, but it wasn’t amusement; it was calculation.

“Exclusivity. No competitors. No open bids. You’re off the market.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air between us, my body going still while my pulse raced uncontrollably.

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