Chapter 20 #2
The warm feeling in my chest expands. “Okay. I’ll start working on it after Christmas.”
“There’s no rush,” Ronan is quick to reply. “With everything else you’ve been dealing with, and your arm—” The muscles in his jaw flex. “I think you should take some time to relax.”
“I didn’t hurt the arm I use to draw with,” I point out. “And sitting in front of my easel”—I smile, because that was one of the things Ronan gave me—“isn’t exactly hard work.”
“Still.” Ronan lifts me onto his lap and readjusts the fleece blanket we’ve been cuddling under. “I don’t like you pushing yourself too hard. In fact.” His expression turns thoughtful. “Maybe you shouldn’t go back to work next week. I’m sure Frank would understand.”
“The doctor said it’ll be fine as long as I don’t carry anything heavy.
I just won’t take any big tables to start.
Only two and four-tops. And I won’t use the big trays.
I’ll just make extra trips from the kitchen.
” I trace the worried lines running across his forehead.
“And I need money. Frank’s been great about covering my hourly wage, but without the tips—”
“I can help. You know I don’t mind.”
“I know. But I like working.” Glancing back at the Christmas tree, I gaze at the twinkling lights. Somehow, they feel more magical this year than any of the rest. “I never told you what Haley said. Yesterday morning.”
“Oh, right.” Ronan smiles. “What did she say?”
“She told me that it was okay for you to sleep in my bedroom. Since she had Murphy to keep her company. She said you would keep me from being lonely.”
Last night, we were both so tired after everything, Ronan and I stayed in my bedroom without really discussing it.
We’d been sitting in bed, watching the end of Love Actually, and next thing I knew it was five AM and Ronan was fast asleep beside me.
From there, it was a frenzy of getting everything ready, and I never got a chance to tell Ronan what Haley said.
“She said that?” Ronan asks. “That she’s okay with it?”
“She did,” I affirm. “Which got me thinking…” I put my hand under the blanket and rest it between his legs. “Since we’re sharing the same bed, maybe we could do something else, too.”
“Something else?” He swells beneath my hand. “Something else, like what?”
“Like one more Christmas present.” I press my lips to his. “One just for us.”
Desire darkens his gaze. “A present for us?” Then he flicks a look in the direction of the stairs. “But Haley.”
“After all the excitement of today, she’s out for the rest of the night. And we can lock the door, just in case.”
I can see the conflict in his eyes. “You don’t think we’d disturb her?”
“Not if we’re quiet.”
“What about your arm? It’s still not completely healed.”
With my good hand, I stroke his growing erection. “I think one arm will be enough. Unless you don’t want—”
Still holding me, Ronan stands abruptly. The blanket falls to the floor. He lifts me high against his chest and kisses me hard. “I want.” His pupils dilate. “Oh, trust me. I want.”
He carries me upstairs like it’s nothing, and when he sets me on the bed, he’s not even breathing hard. Then he just stands beside the mattress and stares down at me as emotion works in his eyes.
Quietly, roughly, he says, “You’re so damn gorgeous, cupcake. Somehow, you keep surprising me with it.”
My breath catches.
In the darkened bedroom, with the light from the hallway framing his body, Ronan looks like one of those sculptures I learned about in art history class—tall and broad and his features like carved stone.
And his expression.
It’s hungry. Possessive.
“Angel,” he murmurs. “My angel. How did I get so lucky?”
A glance below his waist shows the depth of his arousal. My core squeezes around nothing in reaction.
“I think we’re both lucky,” I breathe.
“Angel.” He leans over the bed and kisses me. First gently, just a brush of his lips against mine. Then harder. More insistent. I kiss him back just as passionately. Desperately. Already, I’m aching to feel him inside me.
One hand comes to my breast, and he flicks his thumb across my sensitive nipple. I arch towards him as electricity streaks through me.
“Ah, fuck,” Ronan whispers as he drags his mouth from mine. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“The same thing you do to me,” I reply. Then I grab the back of his head and pull him down for another kiss. Only this time I’m the one taking the lead.
I’m not sure how long we kiss. But it’s long enough to set me on fire for him. It’s long enough for my panties to go damp and my breasts to ache.
I shift restlessly on the bed, my hips moving of their own accord. My hands are all over him—touching the flat planes of his chest and the swell of his biceps and the thrum of his pulse at his throat.
“Ronan,” I gasp. “I need…”
He draws back, his eyes burning with need. “The door.” Turning quickly, he hurries over to the door, pulls it shut, and locks it. Then, in several long, purposeful strides, he returns to my side. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes.” I reach for my waistband and unfasten the top button. “I’m very sure.”
His gaze sears into mine. “Then let me.”
So I do.
“I love taking care of you,” he murmurs as he peels off my clothes. “It makes me happy.”
“As long as I get to take care of you sometimes, too,” I reply quietly. “Because that makes me happy, too.”
Ronan pulls my shirt the rest of the way off, leaving me in only my bra and panties. “You will. But tonight. Will you let me?”
As if I could say no. As if I wanted to.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
And he does. Oh, how he does.
He lavishes kisses all over my body. His hands move across my skin, finding my most sensitive spots and caressing them until my skin is hot and tingling. He takes my breasts in his mouth and strokes his tongue across my distended nipples.
Then he takes off his own clothes and lets me take my fill of him.
The room is still dark, but the nightlight across the room casts enough light for me to appreciate Ronan’s body—his broad chest and flat stomach with more muscles than I thought possible. There’s enough light to catch the shadow of the veins on his arms and the swell of his biceps.
And his arousal. It’s thick. Long. It juts from his body as if it’s desperate for me.
“Ronan.” I crook my finger at him. “Come here. Now.”
The corner of his mouth quirks. “I thought I was taking care of you.”
“You are,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to touch you, does it?”
He thinks for a second before joining me on the bed. “Well. I suppose it doesn’t.”
Because it’s Christmas, and giving is just as important as receiving, isn’t it?
So I stroke him. I use the amount of pressure I know he likes. I trail my tongue down his hot skin and take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him.
When he’s throbbing and I can taste his heady arousal with every caress, he pulls away. “Inside,” Ronan says roughly. “I need to be inside you.”
I spread my legs in invitation. “I want that, too.”
As Ronan rolls on a condom, I have a flicker of a thought of what it would be like to have him bare inside me. Filling me. Maybe even giving me another baby.
Not yet. But maybe one day.
Still conscious of trying to be quiet, our lovemaking is slow. Sensual. We whisper in each other’s ears, and when a moan sneaks out of me, I stifle it against his chest.
And then, when I come in an explosion of stars, Ronan swallows my cry with his mouth. He kisses me hard as I convulse around him, and moments later, he thickens and pulses inside me.
Even as the aftershocks are still rippling through us, Ronan wraps his arms tightly around me and rolls us over, so I’m on top. Then he grabs the edge of the comforter and folds it over us, so we’re wrapped together like a taco.
“Angel,” he murmurs. His lips press to my forehead. “My angel.”
“Mine,” I reply, placing my hand over his heart. “If I’m yours, that means you’re mine, too.”
He lifts his head to look at me. Though it’s dark, I can see the love in his eyes. “I’m yours,” he agrees. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
My heart squeezes.
My throat goes thick.
“I meant it,” I say. “Last night. When I said you weren’t going anywhere. Not if it’s up to me.”
Ronan stares at me. “I meant it, too. I’m not leaving. Not you. Or Haley. Not unless you tell me to.”
Love blooms inside me until I’m breathless from it. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I love you too much.”
Though I can’t be sure, I think I spot a gleam of moisture in his eyes. “I love you too much to leave, too.”
“Ronan.” My nose prickles. “This has been the best Christmas.”
He hugs me close and kisses me again. “It really has.”