I don’t know what I’m doing with Ronan or what will happen between us, but the last thing I need right now is a reminder of my other life. My real life. So I push thoughts of Lawrence and what we talked about to the back of my mind.
I’m just having fun. What are a few more days?
As I paste on my first fake smile for Ronan, I ignore the little voice inside my head saying that time is almost up.
“CAN I OPEN MY EYES?”
“Nope, not yet … just a few more steps,” Ronan says, opening what I think is a sliding door. I hear the city sounds play in my ear as the balmy air of an early evening in the summer whispers on my skin.
I extend my hands in front of me. “Fine, be that way.”
Ronan laughs in my ear. “It’s a surprise, you impatient lil’ thing. I hope you’re hungry though.”
“I’m starving, but not for food,” I tease, a playful smile on my lips as I reach behind me for the front of his pants.
“Good.” He laughs. “We’re here. I’m going to let go, but don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”
“You know you’re making it incredibly hard for me not to cheat, right?”
Ronan chuckles, his hands circling my waist. “All right. You can open them.”
And when I do, my breath catches in my throat.
We’re standing in what I assume is someone’s private terrace at the top of a building facing Central Park. The sun is setting, casting amber and red lights across the park and the buildings surrounding it. It’s as though the city is burning to the ground, the sky filled with clouds like cotton candy in all its shades of pink, purple, and blue. In awe, I turn to look at Ronan, who’s watching me with a sheepish smile on his lips, the golden speckles in his brown eyes shining like winter lights.
“You mentioned the other day that you love sunsets.”
Suddenly, I feel like crying. I don’t think anyone has ever done something this special for me, let alone paid attention to what I’ve said outside of the bedroom. To most guys, I’m only a body they enjoy fucking and showing off. I don’t think anyone has ever cared enough. That is … until now.
I tuck some hair behind my ear with trembling hands as I finish admiring what Ronan has done for me. On the floor, there’s a checkered picnic blanket and a wicker basket filled with cheeses, fruit, and wine. Not caring about anything but Ronan and the overflow of feelings pouring out of me for this man, I turn to face him.
He’s watching me with his arms crossed, looking like he just discovered the cure for a deadly disease. Without sparing a second thought, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and kiss him, open-mouthed. I kiss him with everything that I have and everything that I am. I kiss him with the passion of a woman tasting the promise of true love for the very first time in her life. Every man before him forgotten.
I break the kiss and stare at him, trying to find the right words to thank him, but all I can do is drink him in. Ronan pushes my hair out of the way gently. “Do you like?”
I nod. “I like. A lot.” And because I don’t know how to show gratitude with anything but the use of my body, I whisper against his mouth, “Do you want me?”
He leans down, his nose tracing my collarbone. “Indecently.”
I lick my lips. “Take me to your apartment.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I’ll ever be.”
Ronan is quiet, but the way he’s looking at me feels as if he is tattooing himself within me, within my soul. “Let’s get out of here then.”
The ride back to the Lower East Side, where his apartment is located, is quiet. We both realize what’s about to happen and really, what is there to say?
We haven’t kissed since we left his friend’s penthouse; we’ve only held hands. The tension between us is heady and makes me want to throw up. I feel excited, nervous, giddy, jumpy, but I’m not scared. In a way, this feels more like my first time than it ever felt with Mr. Callahan.
Inside his room, I walk toward the bed and stop when I’m standing in front of it. I take a deep breath as I stare at his navy blue duvet before I turn around. Slowly, as an unsmiling Ronan devours me with his eyes, I take off my T-shirt and let it fall to the floor. Ronan reclines his back against the door, rubbing the back of his neck as he continues to watch me undress for him, naked admiration and want reflected in his gaze.
I take my shoes off next, curling my toes as I fight an epic battle with nerves. I want to laugh at myself. Here I am, what I would consider a worldly, promiscuous girl, feeling gauche for the first time in my life because of a man and the innocent emotions he awakens in me.
I unbutton my shorts and take them off until I’m left wearing nothing but a light-pink thong and bra. Many men have seen me undress and used my body until I couldn’t walk, but right now I feel like the innocent virgin I never was. Not even Walker came close to affecting me the way Ronan does. As a matter of fact, being with Ronan demonstrates how little I cared for Walker. How insignificant he was.
I’m about to unhook my bra when Ronan steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Not like this, Blaire.” He runs a finger along the edge of my bra, the side of his finger tracing the curve of my breasts. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve lain awake imagining this moment … what it would feel like to have you in my arms. I want your mouth on me, your hands on me. I want to taste you … savor you … devour you until you’re begging me to stop. I want to feel myself buried inside of you, moving in you, robbing me of all logical thought. I want to feel you tremble, hear you gasp and moan as I pull you tighter against me. I’ll go deeper and deeper until both of us burn with desire and passion. I want to mark you. I want to fuck every other guy out of your body until I’m all you feel, all you remember.” He leans down and nips my lower lip. “Tonight I’m not going to make love to you, Blaire. I’m going to own you. Do you hear me?”
I brush his cheek with the back of my hand, the contact scalding. “You already do,” I say softly, and it’s true. No one matters anymore besides Ronan.
No one.
Ronan lowers me to the bed and lies down next to me. Leaning over me, half of his body covering mine, Ronan lowers his head until his hot breath touches my skin, raising goose bumps all over. I close my eyes, trying to calm my rapid breathing when I feel his tongue gently tracing the beauty mark above my belly button. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he says huskily.
I open my eyes to find him staring at me. His mouth begins to move upward, leaving a trail of soft kisses behind it. Slowly. Decadently. The moment his lips land in the valley between my breasts, he pauses, smiling against my skin, testing my control. But fuck control. He isn’t supposed to stop now. Groaning, I grab his head and pull him closer to me.
He chuckles before he mouths my breast, sucking it in. I tighten my hands into fists while I try to control the light trembling of my limbs, but I can’t. Hot and cold chills scatter throughout my body as he continues to torture me. His eyes on me, I observe the pink tip of his tongue tracing the outline of my erect nipple, flicking it, turning the wet material a dark pink. “So damn sweet.”
I moan and reach for my bra. He places a hand on top of mine, a devilish light in his eyes. “Not yet. I’m still having fun.”