A Rebel Without Claws (Southern Charm #1)

25. ~Celine~

Chapter 25

~Celine~

Samara poured me a second glass of red wine with her telekinetic power. Her TK touch was so refined that the bottle barely touched the lip of the glass as it seemed to pour itself. She swished a finger and the bottle set itself back down on the coffee table.

That was one gift I never harnessed at all, the telekinetic power most witches had. Funnily, it was the only witchy gift Samara inherited from her mother. But otherwise, she was all vampire like her father.

“I totally get that you’re worried about him,” she said, “but think of every job where the spouse has to worry. Police officers, firefighters, the military, rodeo clowns.”

I let out a small laugh, which was exactly what she was trying to do. Then just as quickly, my tummy rolled with nausea yet again. Ever since the fight three nights ago, I’d been sick with worry .

“Seriously, though.” I took a big sip then set my glass on her kitchen table. “When he was punched unconscious, I almost vomited, then nearly fainted. It made me physically sick to watch. I could hardly stand it. I don’t know if I can ever watch that happen again.”

“Then don’t go to his fights,” she said simply as a loud hammering sound echoed through her living room wall. “Dammit. I wish they’d hurry the hell up.”

“What’s going on?”

“New neighbor. I saw the moving van yesterday and, apparently, they’re hanging art on every single wall in their damn apartment.” She topped her glass again with a wave of her hand, the bottle floating over and back to sit on the table. “Anyway, back to the hot werewolf boyfriend who makes you faint.”

“It’s not funny, Samara. Since the fight a few days ago, his texts are so, so . . .”

“Mean?”

“No.”

“Cold?”

“No.”

“What, is he ghosting you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I can just tell he’s upset. He’s not his usual self.”

“Well, I guess not. You basically told him to give up on his dreams.”

“I didn’t say that,” I protested. “I just told him he was talented and could do something else that didn’t require getting beaten unconscious. ”

“Exactly. You told a fighter he shouldn’t fight. Like I said, you told him to give up on his dreams.”

My blood ran cold. “Did I do that?”

I prided myself on my ability to use words and therapy to get to the heart of a problem, and I hadn’t seen that I was the one causing this problem.

“I’m afraid you did.”

Samara’s expression was sympathetic, but I loved that she was always the person who didn’t judge and gave me direct, sound advice.

I pulled at a loose thread fraying at the hem of my pink cut-offs. “So what should I do now?”

“That’s obvious. What do you normally do when you’re in the wrong and you’ve hurt someone you love?”

“You can tell?”

“That you love him?” She laughed. “Of course. I’ve known you your whole life, and I’ve never seen you this happy with anyone. Well, except right now you’re pretty fucking miserable. But that’s because you know you’re wrong and you hurt him, and you need to fix it.”

I sat up straight on the sofa. “Samara, I am wrong.”

“Yes, I know.”

I jumped to my feet. “And I’ve got to go fix it.”

“As I said.”

I pulled up the Life360 app on my phone. He was home. Of course he was home. Sometimes he watched film footage at Ty’s place pretty late some nights, but not this late.

“Where’s my purse?”

“You’re not driving. You’ve had too much wine. I’ll drive. ”

“You’ve been drinking too,” I pointed out, finding my purse on the kitchen table.

“You know my tolerance is higher than yours.” A hammer started pounding next door again. “Besides, I need to get out of here before my new neighbor drives me insane.”

I always seemed to forget that vampires rarely got drunk. They metabolized alcohol faster. They could become more intoxicated by drinking from a potent blood-host than from drinking a bottle of vodka.

“What time is it?” I checked my phone as we headed out the door. “Hell, it’s almost midnight.”

“Something tells me he won’t care,” she said as we hopped in her Jeep Wrangler.

“Where am I going?” she asked, pulling out of the small lot. “The Westbank.”

As she zoomed toward the interstate, my heart began to race as well.

“It’s only that I’ve never felt like this for someone,” I started babbling.

She laughed. “Yes, I know.”

“It scared the bejeezus out of me to see him get hurt.”

“All of that’s understandable, but didn’t you tell me he’s basically jumped around a lot since his mother died? Don’t you think he may not have had a ton of support, and it might’ve hurt him quite a lot that his new girlfriend doesn’t support him?”

“Goddess above. I’m a terrible person.”

“No, Celine. You’re just in love.”

I pointed her the rest of the way there, nervous and desperate to see him .

“Oh no.” We pulled up the drive, all the windows dark. “They’re asleep.”

Instantly, a light snapped on in a back window, right about where Ronan’s bedroom was. Then another.

“Not anymore,” said Samara, pulling the car to a stop.

“Thank you.” I jumped out and slammed the door, hurrying up the front steps to the wooden porch.

Right as I reached the door, it swung open, and everything I was about to say left my brain.

Ronan stood in the open door in boxer briefs, and that was all. It had been only a few days, but good heavens, I nearly melted in a puddle on his porch.

“What’s wrong?” he growled, scanning over my shoulder, then sweeping the area, obviously looking for danger.

“I am,” I blurted, dragging my gaze off his thick thighs, chiseled abs, and all the loveliness in between. “ I’m wrong, Ronan.”

There was the sound of footsteps behind him as my brain caught up.

“If you want to be a fighter, then I have no right to stop you. Actually, I should be giving you my full support. Even if watching you get hurt gives me high anxiety and makes me want to throw up, that’s no excuse. I’ll sit at every match because that’s what you do when you’re in love with someone.”

His eyes widened as I licked my lips, trembling now. “And that’s me. I’m in love. With you.” I stammered a little before getting it out ineloquently. “I love you.”

That’s when Ronan’s uncle appeared next to him in the doorway—also only in his underwear. Obviously, the fine-body gene ran in the family .

Uncle Shane blinked at me once, then pivoted. “You’ve got this,” he mumbled, padding back down the hallway.

Vaguely, I noted Samara’s Jeep reversing and crunching on the gravel as she drove away.

I stood there, looking up at him, shaking in my tennis shoes, waiting for him to say something.

His aura was a vibrant hot pink. That shouldn’t have been sexy, but it so was. It dawned on me that while he was an obviously attractive man, that wasn’t the real reason I was soul-stirringly magnetized to him. My longing for him came from a much deeper well.

His eyes—midnight-blue and entrancing—examined me for one more second.

“Come here.” But he didn’t wait for me to comply. He reached out and pulled me into his arms.

I instantly burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean it. I was so selfish. I was so scared. I’ve never felt this way.”

“Shh. You’re breaking my heart, baby.”

He pulled me tighter against him, engulfing me in his warmth. He rocked me gently, soothing a palm up and down my back, pressing his mouth to the crown of my head while I cried it out.

After a few minutes, he eased his hold but only a little. “I want you to listen to me.”

I sniffed and nodded, my cheek still pressed to his chest. “First, thank you. I can’t pretend I haven’t been on a downward spiral since the other night. I needed to hear that apology from you. Second, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out more or consider how hard that was for you to watch. If it were the other way around, I’d have lost my mind if I saw someone hurt you.”

“I would never fight for a living, though. You don’t have to worry about that.”

He cupped my face and smiled, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

“And third,” he said gently, tenderly, “I love you, baby. More than anything or anyone on this earth. If I had to give up fighting to keep you, I would. It was just taking me some time to process.”

“No. I don’t want you to do that. That’s selfish of me and unfair to you.”

He brushed his mouth against mine, tasting my lips and tongue.

“Can we have make-up sex now?” I whispered.

He smiled. “You’ve been drinking a bit.”

“I’m not that drunk.” I coasted my hand to the growing bulge in his briefs.

He grunted. “You sure?”

“Ronan, don’t make me beg.” I rubbed my palm down the hard length of him. “I need you inside me.”

He made a gruff sound in his throat, then lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed the strong column of his throat. He squeezed my butt cheeks and carried me toward his bedroom.

“This seems familiar,” I teased.

“I’ve been thinking about these pink shorts since the first day I met you in them. ”

He set me on my feet next to his bed and shut his bedroom door. “Really?”

My trembling hadn’t gone away, but now it was about anticipation instead of nerves. He returned to me in three long strides, holding my gaze in the dim light of his bedside lamp as he unsnapped and unzipped my shorts, shoving them over my hips. When they dropped to the floor, he glanced down and gripped my hips.

“They look good around your ankles.”

I smiled as he nudged me to the bed where I fell willingly onto my back. He grazed his long fingers up my thighs, then slid one finger under my panties.

“Unh.” I rocked up, seeking his touch.

He hissed in a breath, sliding one finger inside me. “So wet.”

“Ronan,” I moaned. “Stop teasing. I need you.”

He made that low grunting sound and pulled his finger out of me. While he shoved off his boxer briefs, I wasted no time lifting my top over my head, then unsnapped my bra and tossed it onto the floor.

He shook his head, raking my body with his gaze as he crawled over me onto the bed. I slid my body up and my head onto a pillow. He stopped halfway and opened his mouth over my nipple. When I rocked my hips on a groan, he grazed the peak with his teeth and circled my clit with two fingers.

“Please,” I begged, wanting him to ease the ache.

On a low growl, he shifted up onto his knees and gripped the bottom of my thighs, pushing them up and wide, his dark gaze fixed down below .

He rocked forward, his cock sliding against my clit, up and down my folds before he pushed slowly inside me.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “So fucking perfect.”

I gasped as he filled me up, fisting my hands into the sheets. He pumped in and out, the glide slick from my excessive arousal. He let my thighs go and lowered onto his forearms, scooping his palms beneath my head. He cradled me gently, nipping at my lips while he rolled his hips, grinding with deep thrusts.

“Yes, like that.” I curled my fingers into his back, loving the way he rubbed my clit with each downward stroke.

That purring growl vibrated from his chest to mine, sending a tantalizing shiver over my skin. I coasted my palms down to his muscular buttocks, getting more turned on at feeling his muscles tighten as he thrusted inside me.

“Yes, baby,” he murmured against my mouth. “So tight and sweet. You take me so well.”

Moaning, I scraped my blunt nails down his back. “I’m about to come.”

“That’s right.” He pumped faster. “Come for me, baby.”

Suddenly, I was, screaming his name, not even caring if his uncle heard. Or the neighbors down the street.

He kissed me hard, swallowing my moans as if he wanted them all to himself, while my orgasm quaked through me.

As it slowly subsided, he broke the kiss and hovered over me. He then traced my bottom lip with his tongue as I whimpered at the ecstasy coursing through my body and soul.

Suddenly, he pulled out and flipped me over onto my stomach, sinking his fingers into my skin and lifting my hips higher. Then he drove inside me with a single stroke .

“Fuck,” he growled.

Even while the spasms of pleasure lingered, I longed for more, curving my spine to take him deeper.

“Yes, baby. Let me have you.”

Where he gripped my flesh hard would definitely leave bruises, but I didn’t care. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure—what he’d given me and I was giving him—overrode any slight pain I felt at all. Our flesh slapping as he drove deep and hard, his rhythmic grunts filling the room, the cool sheets beneath my breasts and cheek, my fists curled into the bedding to hang on as he pounded into my body. It was all utter bliss—a level of joyful euphoria I’d never experienced. And all I wanted was—

“More,” I murmured, “more.”

He growled, thrusting harder, faster, sliding his thick cock so deep inside me until I felt it swell bigger. He was about to come. He fell forward, pressing me into the mattress as he planted deep and ground his hips into my ass. He covered my hands with his, lacing his fingers through mine as he emptied inside me, his cock pulsing hard.

He didn’t bite me this time but nipped and licked softly along the base of my neck while I panted, bathing in the greatest high I’d ever had.

He nuzzled up my throat to my ear where he whispered, “I love you so fucking much it scares me.”

“Why are you scared?”

“Because I can’t lose you. I’d die if I lost you.”

“You won’t lose me.” I pressed a kiss to the back of his hand still curled around the back of mine. “I love you too, Ronan. ”

He lifted and pulled out of me and rolled me over quickly before settling back on top of me, pressing skin to skin so wonderfully.

“Say it again,” he demanded, all serious and grave.

Threading my fingers into his hair, I held his gaze. “I love you, Ronan Reed.” Then I frowned. “What’s your middle name? I don’t even know it.”

“Michael, after Saint Michael. My mom was Catholic.”

“Then I love you, Ronan Michael Reed.”

He smiled. So did I, both of us staring and absorbing this lovely feeling growing even bigger between us.

“You know,” I noted, “Saint Michael was an archangel. A warrior.”

“That’s right.” He leaned his weight on one elbow and pushed my hair behind one ear. Then the pads of his fingers glided softly down my throat.

“Maybe your mom had a feeling about you even then. You’ve had to fight for everything. And then you became an actual fighter.”

“Maybe so.” He let out a sigh. “I sometimes worry what she’d think of me. How I’ve fucked up so many times. Like you said, always fighting. And not necessarily in a good way.”

“But now you are.” I swallowed the regret of having hurt him before, still upset with myself. “I know I reacted poorly after the other night, but Ronan, you’re an amazing fighter. You’re so talented. Even if I hate the idea of you getting punched and kicked, I can see that.”

“Thank you. What happened the other night was a fluke, I can promise you. It won’t happen again. ”

“What did happen?” I recalled that night, how he was on his game, but then he looked up into the stands, and that was when his opponent punched him so hard it knocked him out.

“He said something to anger me, to distract me.” He was toying with a lock of my hair. “It’s never happened to me before. I’m always laser-focused in the ring.”

“How did he do it, then?”

“He was talking about you.” He met my gaze steadily. “But now that I’m aware they plan to play dirty, I’ll be ready for Baron in my last fight.”

“This next one is the last?”

“For the NOWFC, then it goes to the state championship in Baton Rouge in the fall. Then finally to the international league. But all of that is only if we win in each tournament.”

“So for the NOLA league, your team has won one, tied, and lost one. Which means the next fight determines everything.”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

“So you’ll need to be training a lot.”

“Yes. But I don’t mind midnight visits.” He swept a soft kiss over my lips. “Or anytime visits, if I’m honest.”

We subsided into kissing each other for several minutes before he rolled to the side to face me. “Let’s get some sleep.”

I rolled to face the window. “Come curl up behind me.”

“My pleasure.” He scooped me around the waist and pulled me into the curve of his big body.

Giggling, I nuzzled into the pillow and wrapped my arm over his. Even while I lapsed into a contented silence, I could feel the anxiety radiating off him, my magic poking at me. I could never rest whenever someone was upset near me .

“What’s still worrying you? The fight?” “Mm-hmm.”

“Go to sleep. Rest.” I poured my empathic magic into him, sending him a spell to ease his mind.

After a few minutes, his body went heavy around me, and I knew he was asleep. I fell not long after, finally content myself. Not just because he was tranquil, but because I was being the mate he needed. We were a perfect match.