Chapter 12
TWELVE
RONAN
STOP HANDLING ME
I melted into the mattress. For once, a bed almost fit me even though I longed to show her another round on my California King.
For now, my brain was blissfully empty and I was pretty sure I’d used every muscle in my body on the way to killing us both.
I slung my arm over my face and dragged in a breath.
When she tried to climb off of me, I tugged her down to sprawl across my chest. “Just a second.”
“I need to go get cleaned up.”
The air was thick with heat, the scent of exceptional sex and I was content to steep in it, dammit. “You need to lay here for a minute before we both have heart attacks.”
She sighed and shifted until she was half on and half off of me. She kept trying to give me space and I didn’t know why. With my other hand I clamped her against my side until she finally hooked her leg over mine and pinched my side before she rested her cheek on my chest. “You’re sweaty.”
I swiped my free hand along her sweat slicked ass. The room was dark save for a tiny corner lamp. “Same, babe.”
“I know—which is why I need to get cleaned up.”
I dropped my arm and looked down at her. Her face was flushed and her hair was still wet from her post bath shower.
She frowned at me. “What?”
“Best sex ever and you just want to roll back off me like it was nothing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that the girl’s line? Let’s cuddle?”
I shrugged. “Sue me, I like a cuddle after a fuck. But you know that wasn’t just fucking, Kira.”
Suddenly my necklace was very interesting. She traced the Celtic knot at the center of the cross. “It doesn’t have to be anything other than it was.”
“Why?”
Her gaze snapped back to my face. “What do you mean, why? We barely know one another. We were hot for one another and we acted on it.”
“I’ll agree to part of that statement based on the new tattoos on my back.”
“And the rug burn from your beard on my…” she trailed off. “Whatever.”
“Your ass?” I lifted her hand and scraped my teeth over the wildly fluttering pulse at her wrist. “When I tasted you everywhere? And let me tell you right now, I’ll be back for seconds on all of them too.”
“Is that right?” She took her hand back and rubbed it against the quilt. As if it would be easy for her to rub away the burn that flared so hot between us. “And if I want a one and done?”
“Lying won’t make it so, Sunshine.” This time I sat up and dragged her off the bed with me. She yelped as I swung her up in my arms.
“Would you stop carting me everywhere?”
I swung her feet through the door so we both could fit. Damn Victorian doorways. “Nope. Can’t.”
Her amber eyes fired with anger. “Maybe I should call you Barbarian, instead.”
Once we got into the hall, I swung her over my shoulder and slapped her amazing ass. “I worked up a powerful hunger, and unfortunately your pussy can only sustain me so long.”
“You’re an animal.”
“Viking, remember? Are you really surprised?”
She slapped my ass in return. I laughed as I padded out down the hall and into her tiny bathroom. I could use a shower, but there was no way I was fitting in there with her. I’d have to do with a quick wash up.
I set her on her feet and stepped away, ducking when she swung at me. Damn, she was amazing. I grabbed her hands to press them to my chest. The anger sizzled off her, but I knew it was mostly because she was overwhelmed with what happened between us.
Hell, even I was. Fucking was one thing. Kira and I made angels sing and the devil laugh. I knew it was more than just a stress release valve between us. She’d just have to catch up, and that meant I needed to be patient. Which I sucked at, but I had a feeling she was worth the effort.
She blew her hair out of her face. “Just because we had sex—very good sex, yes—but it was just sex. I’ve lived without it before and I can do it again.”
“Uh huh.” Not the way she screamed for me. And there was no way I could live without it. Not after I’d tasted her.
“Arrogance is not a good look, Ronan.”
“Viking.”
Her lips firmed.
I cupped her face. “I like when you call me Viking. Ronan when you come for me, though. Especially when you come so hard you scream it.” I lowered my face to murmur it softly against her mouth.
Her nails bit into my chest. I took the pain and there was something obviously wrong with me because I enjoyed the little bites and blood. And I really liked that I didn’t have to worry about hurting her. That she matched me on every level—mentally and physically.
But I knew her heart was a different matter. She guarded it so profoundly that I needed to be careful there.
I pressed a kiss on her angry mouth. “Take a shower. I’ll wash up at the sink and get our dinner reheated.”
“You’re handling me again.”
“You like how I handle you.” I ran my hand down her ass, dragging her tight against me until our thighs tangled. “And it’s okay to lean on someone, Sunshine.”
Her eyes clouded over, but she backed up and climbed into the tub before snapping the curtain closed.
The shower came on and steam plumed above the oval hanger bolted from the ceiling.
I shook my head when I noticed more plants hung in creative baskets and pots both from hooks and attached to the walls.
These plants had a more tropical flavor including fragile blooms from orchids that created more of that heady floral scent I associated with her.
She wasn’t frilly, but she leaned hard into the female in her own space. An insight that I tucked into the corner of my mind. She worked with men all the time and made sure to downplay the earthy, womanly side of her.
Botanical greens and sharp deep purples left the bathroom feeling more like an oasis than simply functional. I was afraid to use one of her washcloths to clean up. I had enough sisters and an artist mother to know the decorative embroidery wasn’t supposed to touch my balls.
I opened a few cabinets before she called out directions to the linen closet outside. I found more suitable things there and grabbed an oversized bath sheet for her, and an older, half threadbare one for myself.
I quickly washed up. My cold shower at the barn had barely made me suitable for burning up the sheets with Kira, and now? Yeah. It wasn’t pretty, but this would do until I could grab a shower. She needed to eat and relax for a bit.
Talking with her earlier brought it home that I needed to start helping when it came to the Taproom.
Getting a better idea of what kind of food she wanted to have in there was top on the list so I could choose which flavors I wanted to focus on now that I had a feel for Brothers Three.
However, just because she was scarily efficient didn’t mean I could continue to fuck off and leave everything to her.
August would be here before we knew it. The small batches of hard cider didn’t need as much fermenting time as bottling would, so I’d had more room to play, but that window was closing.
Bottling would be a whole different deal.
Thankfully Beckett was giving me some lead time to figure out how the orchard worked and how their apples would match with my vision for the future of the Brothers Three Taproom as well as distribution.
I liked a more robust style of cider and could go dry or back sweeten the batches depending on what Kira had in mind. I was pretty sure I’d need to make another order of yeast, and research some of the champagne and wine yeasts for the larger batch processing during the winter months.
Thoughts of work took a backseat to my very loudly growling belly as I made my way to her bedroom. There was little difference between the steamy bathroom and the hallway. Whatever miracle of air quality she created in her apartment had been dented by using the oven and our own gymnastics.
The night was turning out to be as oppressive as the day, and I opted to just pull on my boxers to reheat the frittatas in the tiny air fryer she had. I found a few more tomatoes in her crisper and made a quick vinaigrette with the plethora of supplies in her pantry.
I was pinching off a few herbs as she came down the hall.
“It smells amazing.” She wore an old Foo Fighters T-shirt with a wide, ripped collar that slid over one golden shoulder.
“Your fridge is pretty bare, but I managed to put something together.” I popped a tomato in my mouth to see how far off I was and added a splash of red wine vinegar to balance the dressing.
“Hasn’t been much time to cook lately.”
I shut the skinny cupboard that had been packed with spices. “But you must like to cook with that stash.”
Her cheeks pinked up. “Maybe. Cheaper to dress up chicken than buy out all the time.”
“Because you’re very smart and pragmatic.
” I pulled out the frittata and slid it onto a plate then garnished it with a few of the tomatoes.
I grabbed the plate, and the bowl of tomatoes and mozzarella I’d managed to cobble together in one hand, cutlery in the other as I herded her toward the Barbie-sized round table by the window.
“Handling me again.”
“Someone needs to. Might as well be me.”
“Who says?”
“If anyone needs some care, it’s you, Kira.”
She frowned and sat down. She tucked her foot up on the seat by her very distractible ass and circled her knee with her arms. Her shirt slid farther down her shoulder and I couldn’t resist brushing a kiss over the golden skin before setting the plate in front of her.
“You don’t have to—”
“Eat.” I spun the other chair around and straddled it.
I figured it was safer for support and a shield in front of my cock was probably a good idea as well.
I wanted to pamper her, take care of her, and fuck her all at once.
Right now, she just needed to be fed. I guess that counted for pampering—for now.
“Aren’t you going to have some?”
I held up two forks. “Dig in.”
She stared at me for a minute before taking one of the forks.
“Problem sharing food?”