20. Ryan
I squeeze through the elevator doors as they’re closing, forcing them to open again.
Kyle is standing to the left, dressed in a dove-gray suit. “We’re taking turns.”
“Huh?” I’m breathing raggedly and drenched in sweat. So stupid of me to go out. I don’t enjoy jogging in the heat of the day. That’s why I always go in the mornings, when it’s cooler and quiet. Peaceful.
But then I had to go and sleep with Ronan.
Yesterday, I skipped my run altogether, avoiding him.
Today, I bolted at 6:00 a.m. and didn’t come home until I knew they would’ve left for work.
But that hour-long run wasn’t enough, apparently, because after a full day of struggling to focus, I came home, changed, and took off, pushing myself to add another five miles to my day’s count.
“I was coming home from the gym yesterday. You’re coming home from the gym today,” Kyle explains with a dimpled smile. Now that he’s freshly showered and dressed, I can see just how handsome he is, in a clean-cut, mama’s boy way.
“Oh. Yeah.” My thighs are on fire .
“Fourth floor, right?” He pushes the button without waiting for my answer. I notice that the second floor is already selected. He got off on my floor yesterday. Maybe he’s going to a friend’s or a girlfriend’s place. “So, Ryan … are you studying for exams?”
“I’ve started. Can’t wait until it’s over.”
The doors open on the second floor, and he steps out, but pauses. “I’m in 255, if you’re ever need help. I’m an economics analyst, so it’s kinda my thing.”
“Oh, thanks. Yeah, I’ll let you know.”
He steps back, watching with a friendly smile as the elevator closes.
Sweat is still dripping down my cheeks as I plow through our front door. I’m praying that Ronan’s not home.
No such luck. They’re both loitering in the kitchen.
I duck my head, heading for the bathroom, intent on avoiding them until after I’ve showered and my face isn’t so red.
“Two runs in one day, sis?” Connor calls out. “You have some pent-up frustration you’re trying to burn?” There’s no missing the amusement in his voice.
I stumble a step. “What is that supposed to mean?” Oh my God. Did Ronan tell him?
“Nothing! Relax. Jeez. You need anything at the store?”
“Nope. Thanks.” I lock the bathroom door behind me and let my head fall back against it with a thud. Just one more week until Ronan’s gone to Alaska and I won’t have to see those piercing eyes, or watch those muscles move with that sexy swagger, or wonder who he might bring home next.
I inhale deeply. It smells like Ronan in here—like his minty shampoo and his soap. He must have had a shower while I was running.
One more week and I won’t have to smell him.
Unexpected disappointment twinges deep inside me with that thought, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. It’ s the same reason I felt immense relief last night when I realized Ronan was alone. All he has to do is glance my way to make my pulse race.
The truth is … I want him again. That’s the real problem here. I let him screw me and now I want it again. He said only one night, and I want another night, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to him again.
Worse, he knows I want it, too, the bastard.
One more week.
Just one more week.
Starting the shower, I peel off my clothes and climb in, reveling in the hot water until it turns tepid, trying to not think about a naked Ronan in here.
All is quiet when I emerge, towel wrapped tightly around my body, my sweat-drenched clothes in my fist. The boys have left for the store.
Good.
The tension eases from my shoulders as I head for my room. I’ll get dressed, grab a bite to eat, then go to the library to study. By the time I come home, they’ll have gone out for the night.
I find Ronan stretched out on my bed.
It takes me a moment to gain my composure, to smooth my expression to one of disregard before I give him the reaction he’s fishing for. I toss my dirty clothes into my hamper. “I thought you were going to the store?”
His gaze crawls over me. “I never said I was going anywhere.”
My towel doesn’t feel secure enough, as if merely a look from him could pull it down. I resist the urge to fumble with it. “What do you want?”
He swings his legs off the edge of the bed and pulls himself up to sit. “Seems I’m missing something important from my room.”
I turn my back to him and begin shuffling through my dresser for clothes. I’m assuming he’s talking about his condoms. “Oh yeah? When did you notice it missing?”
My bed creaks as he stands. “Last night.” Suddenly, Ronan’s directly behind me, his strong frame looming. “When I was going to come in here to see you.”
My fumbling hands freeze. He was going to come in here last night? That means he would have been going for a condom.
That means he wanted sex again.
From me.
I struggle to keep my voice indifferent. I don’t want him to know how he affects me. “You should keep better track of your important things.”
His deep chuckle vibrates along my spine. I watch with shock as, reaching around me, Ronan collects the framed picture of my mom and me, the three books, and the jewelry box that decorate the top of my chest of drawers, and tosses them to my desk.
“Hey! What are you— ah !” My words drop with a yelp as he grabs my hips, spins me around, and hoists me up to sit atop it. It’s a five-drawer chest, and he’s so damn strong.
Without any preamble, he tugs at my towel until it falls open, laying me bare. Pushing my thighs apart, he leans forward.
I watch, my jaw hanging open in shock, as Ronan’s mouth settles between my legs.
“Have you ever heard of foreplay?” I finally manage in a hoarse whisper.
“This is foreplay.”
Whatever resistance I might have put up dissolves in a puddle as his tongue slides over my center.
“Why’d you take my condoms?” he asks, his hot breath against my sensitive flesh.
Because I didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else while you’re here?
I don’t answer, instead reaching down to grab the back of his head, his short, near-black hair unexpectedly soft against my fingertips.
He smiles, his hands gripping my thighs tighter, pulling me forward until I’m afraid I might fall right off the dresser. Ronan would never allow that, though. I don’t know him, but I know that.
His tongue takes another long, leisurely swipe. “You are sweet. Who knew?”
“I thought this was a onetime thing.”
“Do you want it to be a onetime thing?”
I hesitate on the lie. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”
He chuckles, the grating sound and his mouth so close to me pooling heat in my core. “Wouldn’t expect otherwise.”
I gasp as he pushes his tongue inside me and then takes off, a relentless barrage of licks and swirls that demonstrates his expertise. Not like David, who only occasionally did this for me, and only for long enough to mark off an invisible checkmark in the decent boyfriend column.
“Do you like doing that?” I dare ask.
He pauses long enough to show me a lust-filled gaze, his fringe of eyelashes thick and long. “Do I like doing what?”
“ That .”
“Eating you out?”
Oh my God . My stomach tenses. “Yeah.”
“I love it.” Releasing one of my thighs, he slides two fingers inside me, drawing my gasp and pooling heat into my lower belly.
His mouth seals over me again, and my inhibitions quickly fade as his tongue explores and his fingers slowly thrust, building an intense pressure deep inside.
I relax and open to him, stroking the back of his head while I coax him with garbled, half words.
When I finally come, it’s with Ronan’s tongue deep inside me, bucking against his face, crying out with complete abandon .
He stands. His lips graze over my nipple, teasing it with his breath. “How was that for foreplay?”
“Fine,” I manage through ragged breaths. He could teach a class on the art of going down on a woman.
“Where is my box of condoms, Ryan?”
“Under your bed,” I answer, my eyes closed.
He pulls me down off the dresser with ease, setting me on the bed, where I sprawl out, boneless.
I’m vaguely aware of him leaving the room, only to return thirty seconds later, his shirt missing and a foil packet in his hand, his track pants hanging low on his hips, the V of his pelvis leading down to the hard ridge of his erection.
His body truly is a work of art.
Ronan pushes his waistband down to his thighs and takes his length in his palm. With languid strokes, he rubs himself in front of me. “You thought I was going to bring someone home last night, didn’t you? That’s why you hid these?”
“Yes,” I admit. “Why didn’t you?”
He opens his mouth, but falters. “I didn’t feel like it.” I get the impression he was going to say something different.
He tears the foil wrapper with his teeth and rolls the condom onto himself with one hand, his gaze never leaving mine.
For the briefest of seconds, I consider closing my legs, denying him. But I quickly dismiss that crazy thought, because the truth is I’m aching to feel Ronan inside me again. I enjoy the idea of him wanting me.
He flips me over and pulls me to my knees with no warning, smoothing his palms over my backside. “Damn, this ass.” The mattress sinks under his weight as he kneels behind me.
“What about it?” I fail to keep the apprehension from my voice. I’ve always been self-conscious about my round hips, emphasized by my slender waist. In fact, this is my least favorite position because of it. I never let David take me like this .
“It’s beautiful.”
“Really?”
He drags his thumb along my crack, making me tense. “I could stare at it all day.” He grips each side tight, and I feel his tip prod my opening, still swollen and sensitive.
And so wet.
I close my eyes as he pushes into me, overwhelmed by his size from this angle. I take him in quickly enough, though.
His phone chirps. “Shit … you took too long in the shower.” He pushes my chest against the mattress and hikes my ass up higher in the air.
“What do you mean? Is Connor on his way—” My words are cut off with a cry as he thrusts into me at that same relentless pace as the other night, just before he came.
I don’t fight the sounds that slip from my mouth this time, fisting the covers, his skin slapping against mine, a repetitive and tawdry sound.
It’s almost unbearable, my mind torn between the odd pleasurable pain he’s delivering and worry that my brother’s going to walk in.
It’s distracting enough that my orgasm catches me by surprise, just as Ronan’s pulsing deep inside me with his own.
My muscles barely have time to stop constricting around him when he abruptly pulls out. He leaves, clicking my bedroom door shut behind him.
Disappointment doesn’t even have time to settle in before I hear Connor hollering at the door for Ronan to give him a hand unloading the car.
My heart is still racing. That was so close.
I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
What the hell are we doing?
And why am I enjoying this so much?