15
T
he bulge at the front of his jeans was so big it almost knocked my glasses off. That’s an exaggeration, but my bodily reaction to seeing him getting horny because of me, the plain nitwit was making me wet between my legs.
“Riley,” his voice was low and gritty, a warning that what I was suggesting with my hand was a very bad idea. “I can’t do this.”
“I notice you’re not going anywhere,” I breathed softly so the passing students couldn’t hear me.
His chest rose and fell heavily as he gazed at the horizon, yet he wasn’t pushing my hand away. He seemed to be having an internal conflict his horniness vs. his loyalty to Mikael Kaiser.
My world was falling apart, and I felt so utterly alone as it was me against the entire stupid world. I needed him to hold me and tell me that everything would be okay, yet he was my enemy, and if he found out who I was, he’d kill me.
I remembered hearing stories about Ronan Byrne, even when I was 14 or years old, and he was only two years my senior. Gunner would talk about him with great respect and pride, as someone he looked up to; yet, I was never told the specifics of why Ronan Byrne should be held in such high regard. He wasn’t family or blood-related, but he earned her trust, probably by doing things that would send a shudder down the spine of a girl like her.
Yet, in that moment, I wanted his warm, strong body wrapped around mine, comforted by his heat and power, but he seemed to want to play by his boss's rules.
Tired of his inaction, I stood up and walked away, hoping he would follow. But the silence was deafening, as no footsteps were treading behind me, nor was there the sound of hastened breath. I stalled and turned back to look at him, and he was sitting on the park bench. He turned away as soon as our eyes met.
That man fucked me in the natural spring and I loved it. That man told me not to cum until he said and I loved it. My Simmering Summer is Ronan Byrne, right-hand man to the man I imprisoned, and I loved it.
I spotted a foot-long stick on the ground, a twig broken off from one of the nearby trees. Like a teenage girl annoyed that her crush was giving her the attention she wanted, I threw the stick near, hoping it would land a couple of feet away. Close enough to grab his attention, but far away so it didn’t hit him. Instead, the breeze steered the stick toward him, smacking him lightly on the face.
“Oh,” I shouted, feeling bad, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
His eyebrows lowered over his eyes in surprise, and he shot me a disapproving look, hinting at a suppressed smile. “That wasn’t smart, Riley,” he called after as he leaned over to grab the stick and examined it.
“I said I’m sorry. I meant for it to land over there,” I pointed to the side of him, and he shook his head.
“That was a big miss,” he pointed out the obvious, then stood so he was full height in all his glory, the handsomest man in the world. Irish hunk. Simmering Summer. His hair was swept back, with a single strand falling forward, giving him a look reminiscent of a 1960s Hollywood actor. Clean-shaven, impeccably dressed, but dirty on the inside.
He stepped toward me, slapping that stick against his thigh, mischievousness written across his face. “What are you going to do with that?” I queried as he loomed closer.
“Why don’t you bend over and I’ll let you know,” he answered with a wickedness in his eyes, still spalling that stick against his thigh.
“You wouldn’t,” I challenged, stepping backward to him at a distance of a few feet.
“Oh, yes, I would, Riley. Or should I call you Pet-ra Black?” he hissed mockingly.
“No,” I cried out, turning my back and running toward the baseball diamond as thudding footsteps followed closely behind.
“Run little rabbit run,” he snarled as I squealed in laughter and fear.
“Ronan,” I cried, half giggling, half freaking the fuck out imagining what he’d do once he caught me. “Don’t be mean.”
“Swim little selkie swim,” he chimed. “Run little rabbit run. I like seeing that little ass wiggle. Watching you go is almost as good as watching you swim in the water nak-ed.”
“Ronan,” I giggled as his hand smacked my butt cheek as I kept running for my life.
“Don’t let me catch ya, Riley?” he snarled as I ran as fast as I could along the baseball diamond, weaved, dashing, and diving away from his outstretched stick that kept being smacked against my backside.
I squealed, attracting the attention of students nearby who were either walking to their classes or sitting on the grass in the sunlight. It was getting late, after 4:30 PM, so I ran to the bleachers as fast as possible.
“You gotta run faster than that, little selkie,” he growled into my ear, frightening me that he had gotten that close.
In the next moment, his long, solid arms were wrapped around my waist as my feet left the grass, and his warm breath tickled my ear. We landed on the soft grass, with me giggling and him wearing a mischievous look beneath his chiseled jaw and perfect hair, perfect in every way, enveloped in a cloud of tantalizing scent.
He tossed the stick aside and rolled me over onto my back, sitting astride on me, bent knees nestled into my sides.
“What are you going to do, Mr. Byrne?” I asked as my chest rose, and he devoured my breasts beneath my clothes. I noticed something protruding from the waistband of his jeans, and I reached for it, realizing it was a gun.
He snatched it from my hand before I could dislodge it from his waistband. “What would you like me to do, Riley?” his voice was husky and sexy, making me wet for him.
“Have you got plans with that gun?” I teased, biting my bottom lip, gazing up at him.
I doubted that I looked alluring because my glasses were skewed, and my hair was messy, falling over my face. Next to his flawless features, I felt plain and uninteresting.
Yet, all he saw was me. All he noticed was me. The entire world seemed to shrink into this moment, drowning out every sound and motion around us. He didn’t care that students might see him, the ever-so-handsome Ronan Byrne, straddling Plain Jane Riley Laws, even though vivacious Annika was only a layer of skin away.
He’s still hard with that bulge protruding, and my naughty hands gravitated to stroke him, and his reaction was to snatch my wrists and hold them above my head.
“Protection,” he replied bluntly.
“From who? Me? Little ol’ me?” Again, I tried to seem cute, but it’s a massive failure. “You think I might pull a gun on you?”
He chuckled, amused. “No, Selkie, I thought you were in trouble, so I bought protection to convince whoever was hurting you that it’s not a good idea.”
“My hero,” I batted my eyelashes behind my glasses, and it seemed to work, even though I was a disaster.
He nodded his chin toward me, since his hands were occupied with holding me hostage. “Are you flirting with me?” His nostrils flared hotly, looking so goddam sexy.
I bit my bottom lip again, “Maybe. But you won’t try anything out here in the open, will you?”
“Won’t I? I like a good challenge,” he flirted back.
He had me where he wanted me and was entirely in control. I had no chance against him, and I liked that. If I could warm him up a little, he’ll hopefully let his guard down, and then it would be easier to slip into his office to plant the cameras or snoop through important documents.
Or better still, he might trust me enough to expose his deepest, darkest secrets. My motivation and objective were to get Bitchtective and the Kaisers off my back so that I could have an everyday life. Perhaps I could even return to being Annika, with flowing blond hair and blue eyes.
“Have you shot anyone?” I asked, playing dumb because I knew exactly what he could do.
He grunted, and that smile made my heart flutter. “You don’t want to know,” he stated openly.
“Try me,” I challenged him to see how he would share with me.
A shadow cast behind his eyes, where he seemed distant for a moment before returning to the present, and fear shivered down my neck at the sharpness in his face. The Simmering Summer for a tiny moment was as cold and cutting as a Siberian blizzard.
He leaned forward so his face was directly over mine, just a few inches away, and stared deeply into my eyes. Immediately, trepidation boiled inside me as this imposing man controlled my movements, caged me in, and stared intensely through my fake glasses and fake-colored contact lenses. This closeness made me nervous in the bright light, possibly exposing that I wore a disguise.
He narrowed those gorgeous, sharp eyes, still locking his gaze onto me. “Do you have any other identities in there, Riley?”
I swallowed nervously, my mouth suddenly becoming dry and thirsty. Could he tell? Could he see that I was a fake? My words caught in my throat as I tried to express what I needed to say. “What?”
“Petra Black to Riley Laws,” his eyes ran from my geeky glasses, and once his gaze reached my mouth, he licked his bottom lip. “Who do I have beneath me now? Petra or Riley… or do you have another personality under your clothes?
I frowned, trying to compensate for a lie. “No,” I snapped. “I already explained that I needed the fake ID to get the job because I needed to buy a car.”
“You lied to us, the Kaisers, to buy a car?” he questioned me.
“Yes,” I snapped, feeling uncomfortable and eager to leave his snare so that I could breathe again. “And I’m sorry.”
“Right,” he said scathingly.
“You don’t believe me?” I was anguished because it bothered me that I might not be as convincing as I had first assumed.
He sighed as he broke his gaze briefly to look at a group of students shouting and laughing nearby, giving me two seconds of relief. When he looked back down at me, his eyes were warm and twinkling, but it was obvious that dirty thoughts dominated his mind.
“It’s a problem that I can’t do a damn thing,” he sighed, bowing his head down, so our lips were only an inch apart.
I pushed my abdomen upwards into him, indicating that’s what I wanted and hoping that it’ll get him hot and eager to rip me apart. I was so hungry for him to kiss me, touch me, or do anything. Anything!
His warm breath caressed my lips as those eyes locked onto me again, and my insecurities surged. He could strip me naked with that stare and torture me with those lips. He brushed his lips so softly against mine, blistering me with such a gentle touch, as my heart thudded violently against my ribcage, hitching my breath.
“I want to kiss you so bad, Riley.” his voice lit a fire between my legs, and I hungered for him to claim my mouth and kiss me hard.
“Kiss me,” I demanded, pushing my abdomen upward, hoping I'd strike his balls, so he’d have no choice but to seduce me.
That smirk was killing me, then he shook his head slightly, pulling his eyes away. “I can’t. I can’t defy the boss,” he sighed, releasing my wrists, which made me angry.
“Ronan. Please,” I begged, caving under his decision.
“I’ll walk you back to your room,” he said, climbing off me and standing up over me, those eyes raking my body lying there, vulnerable.
I refused to move and lifted my foot and placed it over his bulging crotch, only for him to step away so I didn’t make his little situation worse.
“Riley,” he scolded me, giving me his hand to help me up, and I refused to take it. “Okay, I’ll leave you here and return to my car parked outside your dorm.”
“Bye,” I called after him as he walked away and that firm ass moving in those black jeans and his handgun poking down his back under his shirt. Oh, lord, that man could kill me just on his looks and the way he moved.
I watched him go, and when I realized he wasn’t coming back, I stood up and ran after him. Once I caught up, he wrapped his arms around my body and pressed his lips against my temple. “This is not easy for me, Riley,” he breathed against my skin.
“I know, but rules are made for breaking,” I challenged him to see what he’d say.
Teasing, flirting, and feeling like a desperate girl eager for his attention. It was an act, of course. Yes, I did want his affection, attention, and sex, but I needed to break the shackles of the prison I’d been placed in by Bitchtective even more. That was my priority. My freedom. Everything else paled in comparison. This was Annika acting her part in this fucked up drama.
He dropped his arms away, slightly annoyed by my pressuring him as he was so close to surrendering to his desires. The intensity and his inner battle against himself were off the charts. It was enlightening that my presence weakened this handsome, beautiful man, my vulnerable body aching for him.
One touch. One kiss. One lick will snap his inner restraints, surrendering to my wily womanly ways.
“Not these rules, Riley,” he stated sternly, straightening his back and keeping his gaze off me.
He might not have caved this time, but at least he’s weakening bit by bit. Eventually, he’ll be putty in my hands, where he trusted me enough to tell me his secrets while I recorded his words and then gave the information to Bitchtective.
Then I’ll finally be free.