Chapter 29 #2
I grabbed her waist and moved her so I could turn on the faucet. Then I picked her up easily and set her down on the counter before I went in search of a washcloth.
“Ronan, talk to me.”
She wriggled down from the sink, but immediately I picked her up and set her right back where she was.
“Stop that,” she said, unsuccessfully batting me away.
I yanked open drawers in search of washcloths. No dice. “Stop what, Ari?”
“Picking me up and putting me down like a paperweight.”
She started sliding off the marble again, but just before her toes hit the floor, I snaked an arm around her waist so I could lift her again, this time setting her on the other side of the sink so I could look in the next set of drawers.
“I said stop!” She kicked her feet, causing her ridiculously high, red-soled heels to clatter to the floor.
This time, however, I stayed between her legs while I opened a cabinet next to us. Jackpot. “No.”
“Ronan.”
“Ari.”
“Let me down.”
“Again, no.”
Laney huffed adorably, sticking out that suckable bottom lip. “Why?”
“Because.” It was amazing. Just touching her made me feel calmer. “I like putting you right where I want you.” I wet a cloth under the running water, squeezed it out before raising it to her face. “Close your eyes.”
She frowned at the cloth, clearly wise now to what I was about. “But they—they worked so hard on all of this.”
“So, they earned their paycheck for the day. Now I want it off.” My voice came out rough. “I need to see my wife, Laney. Please let me take it off.”
She blinked, but her frown disappeared. “Hold on.”
I watched in horror as she reached up and peeled off two sets of fake lashes from her eyelids. “Jesus. That is fucking horrifying.”
“Ronan, you can’t tell me you didn’t know some women wear fake eyelashes. You had a regular room in Las Vegas, for Pete’s sake. What do you think all the showgirls are wearing?”
“Fair enough, but I’ve never watched them stretch their eyelids out like rubber bands when they take them off.” I shuddered. “Promise me you’ll never make me see that again. I like your eyes the way they are.”
Laney shrugged. “They make my eyelids itch, anyway.”
“Can I take off the rest now?”
She nodded and held her face out for me to wash.
Ten minutes later, her skin was finally clear of the makeup, a few faint freckles visible again like stars at dusk, along with a few of the other things she probably thought were imperfections, but I had come to know as just her.
The natural pinking on her cheeks from some mild rosacea.
A tiny scar at the corner of her mouth that was probably from long ago acne or chickenpox.
The shorter fringe of lashes that moved naturally and made her big green eyes that much more readable.
I didn’t stop there, removing pins and a hairpiece until the rest of her natural waves fell free over her shoulders, then going for the diamonds at her ears and neck.
Finally, I reached behind her to unzip the dress, pulling it to her waist, then past her hips as she moved them up to help me.
Eventually, she sat in only her underwear and her skin.
“There you are.” I pushed a lock behind her ear.
I bent down to kiss her, but she stopped me. “No. Not before you tell me what’s wrong.”
Fuck. Two weeks in, and she was starting to read me like one of her books. It didn’t help that with her, I seemed incapable of the kind of bullshit I regularly served to everyone else.
I wanted to tell her everything. About the call from Antoni. The underlying reasons for this marriage. The pressure to prove myself to people whose opinions I increasingly didn’t care about.
Instead, I kissed her, and this time, I didn’t let her pull away.
“I need you,” I muttered. “I… it’s been a shit day, Laney, and I just need my wife.”
Her hands rose to take hold of my shirt as she kissed me back like she couldn’t help it. “The stylists are right outside—”
“Do I seem like I care?” I slid my palms up her full thighs, then hooked the edges of her underwear and yanked until they tore.
“Ronan, we can’t—” she gasped as I latched onto the side of her neck and sucked hard. “Ooh!—they’ll hear—”
“Then you’ll have to be quiet, sweetheart.” My fingers slid through her wetness. “Fuck, you’re already wet. And you did check the exhibitionism box.”
She hummed in agreement, even if she couldn’t quite verbalize it. I groaned and slipped two fingers inside her. God, she was so ready for me. Just like always.
“Can you stay quiet while I fuck you?” I kissed her again before she could say no, then suckled her lip for good measure. “Or scream a little so they can hear how good you take it?”
Her eyes widened into sea glass discs. But then… she nodded.
I smiled. “Good girl.” Just to check, I moved my other hand to her chest, looking for that steady beat. “All good here?”
She nodded again, then wrapped her arm around my neck and yanked me close for a kiss that was just as desperate as any I’d given her. “Just give it to me.”
Fuck, this girl. This dream.
“As you wish, wife.” With quick, graceless movements, I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my cock. Then, in one harsh stroke, I was inside her as my hand slipped up to cover her mouth, daring her to scream through my fingers.
She just wrapped her legs around my waist and urged me forward.
It was all the encouragement I needed.
There was no lovemaking happening in this bathroom. Or maybe it was, but it was an animal sort. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror, my face contorted with pure, instinctual need as I pounded forward, Laney’s hair shaking down her back while she leaned back to take me deeper, further, harder.
“Ronan!” she cried once I released her mouth.
I yanked her back up and covered her cries with a kiss with more teeth than caress. “I said quiet.”
She took my tie and yanked. “You said scream so they can hear me take it, husband.”
“So I did.” I couldn’t stop if I tried. “Fuck–Laney.”
“Ronan.” She framed my face with her hands, though it was clear her control was quickly approaching the same cliff’s edge where mine had been since the moment I saw her.
The truth was, I was a lost man. Maybe I had been since that first night in Vegas.
Maybe the idea that I ever had any control when it came to this woman had always been as much a myth as the names I’d given us: Dionysus and Ariadne.
The god of wine, merriment and madness. And his wife, goddess of mazes, passion, and… forgiveness of all things.
Maybe that’s why I had come to her today.
I was chasing that forgiveness like she could give it to me, but I could only manage madness, fucking her like I was trying to outrun something.
Like if I could get deep enough, plunder her soul for the purity mine lacked, I could forget all the things I’d ever done. Maybe forgive myself for them, too.
Her body tensed. She was close, the friction of our bodies too much for her to handle.
“Are you going to come?” I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. “Are you going to come on my cock, Ari? Are you going to come for me now?”
To my shock, she did, squeezing my hips, my dick, my fucking soul as she fell apart on a cry, one I captured with another kiss if only to preserve the dignity I knew she would locate later, after she came down from this mutual high.
I was right behind her. Two more quick thrusts and I was buried deep, pouring myself into her, seeking absolution in return.
“Laney,” I gasped as my hand slammed into the counter hard enough to shake it. “Oh, fuck, Laney.”
We stayed there, heaving, shaking, wrapped in each other for several long moments before our surroundings came back to us. The ribbon of black cutting through the Carrera counter. The last gleams of sunlight bouncing through a skylight.
And the warmth, the softness, the utter rightness of the woman in my arms.
I was still breathing hard when she spoke. “Ronan?”
“Mmph.” I laid my forehead on her shoulder to catch my breath.
A hand combed through my hair, tugging lightly at the curls I’d started to let loose because I knew she preferred them that way.
I stood up to face her.
“What was that?” she asked. “Not that I didn’t like it, but…”
“But it was fucking nuts.” I rubbed a hand over my face, though I couldn’t help glancing down to where we were still connected. Christ, just the sight of it made me want to go another furious round. “I just needed you. Like I said.”
Truer words and all that.
She didn’t press me, but I could feel her doubt. Laney was more patient than I was, but she wouldn’t wait forever.
And there was, unfortunately, one thing I did have to ask her.
“Laney?”
Her big eyes blinked as she stroked my face. “Yes?”
I leaned into her touch, eyes closed. “Would you… if someone asked you when we met that first night in Vegas… do you think you could tell them it was before eight o’clock?”
The hand on my cheek stilled. “What?”
I opened my eyes and straightened. “Just, if anyone asks. Like a casino employee. Or a police officer.”
“But we didn’t meet until after eleven at the club. I didn’t even leave the hotel with Megan and her bridesmaids until after ten, so we couldn’t have met before then.” The crease between her brows appeared again. “Ronan, why would a police officer be asking questions about you?”
Fuck.
I never should have asked her. Of course, she knew the time. And really, I was stupid for even asking, considering how many other people had been with her that night and wouldn’t be able to corroborate any story I asked her to tell.
More importantly, it wasn’t in her to lie, and right now, she was looking at me the way I’d always hoped she wouldn’t.
Like she wondered what I might be capable of.
What secrets I was hiding.
“No reason,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked. Forget about it.”
“But—”
“It’s nothing, I promise,” I rambled on.
“Just some boring paperwork about the marriage certificate. Press, police, all the government people are obsessed with billionaires. They need exact times. You know how it goes.” I kissed pressed an absent kiss to her forehead and stepped back, biting my lip as I pulled out of her. “Red tape fools.”
I grabbed another cloth from the cabinet to clean us both up.
She didn’t look convinced while I waited on her. “What paperwork needs the time we met?”
“The kind that makes you want to stab yourself in the eye with a pen out of boredom.” I helped her off the counter, then grabbed a robe from a rack behind us. The last thing I wanted to see was her in that goddamn dress again. “Come on. Let’s send the stylists away and go home.”
Before she could answer, I opened the bathroom door. No one was in the room anymore, which had been abandoned with racks of clothing. But clearly they were close by because the one named Dario popped his head around the corner, then called for the other two.
When Laney emerged behind me, the room was full again, and her cheeks were very red.
“Kate,” I said with my most charming style. “The dress you chose is currently on the bathroom floor, in need of a good steaming. It’s also very beautiful. Perfect for a Black family event.”
Kate beamed. “Great! We have some other options for similar events in case she needs—”
“Not necessary,” I cut in. “Since for tomorrow, I’d like my wife to look like herself.”
Kate traded glances with her team. “Can you clarify what you mean, sir?”
“The dress is great, but I didn’t recognize her in it. And I don’t think she did either,” I glanced down at Laney. “Am I wrong?”
Silently, she shook her head, still looking embarrassed.
“So,” I continued. “Ditch the diamonds too and find something that will make her feel comfortable and like something she would choose herself.”
“I see.” Kate nodded. “You want her to stand out.”
“I want her to be her.” I wrapped an arm around Laney’s shoulder and tugged her close. “Because she’s already perfect.”
All three stylists made small sounds of delight. Dario actually clutched his chest.
“Oh my God,” the other one squealed. “Talk about smitten!”
I ignored them, keeping my focus on Laney. “Ready?”
She frowned, then looked back at Kate. “But we still haven’t decided on a—”
I leaned down to nip at her ear and murmur into it. “You think a quick fuck on the bathroom counter is enough, did you? I owe you at least one more orgasm tonight. Plus, I bought a new prop.”
Her cheeks flushed the color of ripe tomatoes. “You’re incorrigible.”
I offered my toothiest grin. “Nah. I’m just yours.”
She stared up at me like I’d just told her the world belonged to her, not just my barren soul. Suddenly, I needed us to be back in Charlestown immediately.
“Kate,” I turned to the stylist and her team. “We’ll meet you here tomorrow before the event. Thanks for all your hard work.”
“But we need to discuss—” Kate started.
“Tomorrow,” I repeated firmly. “Right now, my wife and I need time alone.”