18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Nellie
“ Y ou really don’t have to search my apartment.” I flipped on the light in the entryway, pausing when I felt Ronan step closer. His musky scent surrounded me, and when I took a deep breath, it was like I could taste his kiss. I wanted to taste it again.
“Of course I do,” Ronan said, stepping around me and into the apartment ahead of me. I tried to remember if I’d left anything embarrassing laying out when I left this morning, making a list of the all-black outfits I’d tried on but discarded in a large pile in the corner of my room and the breakfast dishes I hadn’t had time to wash yet.
I cringed. “Isn’t this a bit overkill?” I followed him when he stepped into the hallway. He opened the coat closet, scanning it and closing it again when he was satisfied there wasn’t anyone hiding there. I rolled my eyes.
He shook his head, turning into the bedroom. When Spice heard us walk in, he jumped off the bed with a quiet chirp. He pranced toward us, nuzzling his head against Ronan’s leg as the light flipped on.
“Fuck,” Ronan hissed when he felt it. His leg jerked, and his hand moved to his waistband, producing a gun I had no idea was there. I put both of my hands on his arm when he aimed it, scanning the room.
“It’s just Spice!” I said, squatting down and scooping the surprised orange tabby into my arms. I rubbed my nose against his fur, giggling when he started to purr. Ronan lifted a single brow, slowly returning his gun to his hidden holster. “Spice, this is Ronan.”
“Nice to meet you, uh, Spice,” Ronan muttered. Judging by the way he pursed his lips, he felt silly saying it. Then he smirked, and butterflies rushed from my stomach to my throat. “So that really does make you Sugar?”
I shook my head but shrugged anyways. “Maybe it does.” I giggled when Spice started to wiggle free from my arms. I let him jump down and watched him scurry out of the bedroom into the kitchen. Ronan watched him, moving his leg out of the way like he wanted to make sure the cat didn’t touch him. Then he looked at me, giving me a slow once over before he turned to follow Spice.
“Then let’s go, Sugar.” He walked out of the room, and I giggled.
“Does that mean you’ve decided I’m safe now?” I took larger steps to catch up to him, slipping around him and walking into the kitchen first.
Ronan nodded, but he still surveyed the room. “For now.” He sounded serious, and my stomach sank, but when he smiled, it flipped. I took a larger step when he reached forward like he might grab me, and I felt the brush of air from his hand when I slipped to the side.
“Night cap?” I asked. I reached for an unopened bottle of wine on the counter, holding it up as if to further explain the offer.
He shrugged, looking amused. “Sure, why not?” I watched him get settled on one of the barstools, forgetting I should’ve been looking for the corkscrew in the same place it always was.
When he slid his suit jacket off his shoulders, folding it in half once and setting it on the empty stool next to him, I stared. My lips tingled, thinking about the way he’d kissed me at the bakery, and I could still feel his fingers against my skin. Ronan cleared his throat, nodding at the bottle in my hand. “Are you pouring it?”
“What?” I looked at him. He lifted his brows and looked pointedly at the bottle, smirking when I snapped out of my daze. “Oh, yes. The wine.”
“I expected your apartment to be more… pink.” Ronan laughed. The more he looked around the room, the more self-conscious I felt about the small one-bedroom apartment I rented.
I scanned the white walls mostly covered with canvas prints and posters for movies I’d only seen once. I shrugged. I opened the drawer in front of me, giggling when I pulled out the bright pink corkscrew. The pop when I pulled the cork from the bottle broke the heavy silence that had filled the kitchen, and I breathed a shaky sigh of anticipation.
“Cheers,” I said, passing him a glass.
Ronan took it, tapping the glass to mine before swirling the liquid. “Cheers, Sugar.” He winked, bringing the wineglass to his lips. I followed the path of his tongue along the rim, and when I saw the picture of Dickie that hung on the wall, my mouth dried out. What am I doing?
“This is kind of weird,” I admitted, swallowing a laugh. When Spice hopped up onto the counter, Ronan jumped slightly. I smiled, running my hand down his back and over his tail.
“What is?” Ronan took another drink of his wine. Was he serious? I waved vaguely around the room, as if it should’ve been obvious.
“You’re sitting in my kitchen,” I explained. Spice bumped his head against Ronan’s hand, and a small smile tugged at his lips while he lifted his hand to scratch the orange cat behind the ears. “And you’re petting my cat.”
Ronan looked at his hand like he didn’t realize he was petting Spice, and he paused. When Spice stopped purring to chirp and bumped his hand, Ronan chuckled and started to pet him again. “I don’t think it’s weird.”
I swallowed the rest of my glass in a large gulp. His eyes widened when I refilled it, and when I finished the glass in three swallows, his eyes only got wider. I stared back at him, debating pouring another glass, but when I focused on the warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach, I decided against it.
“Can I ask you something?” I finally asked, setting the glass down and planting my hands against the counter.
Ronan cocked his head to the side, setting his glass next to mine and reaching for the bottle. “You just did.” He smirked, and I rolled my eyes. He watched me while he poured another glass for each of us, never once looking at the stream to make sure he didn’t spill it.
“Why did you kiss me?” I asked. He sat the bottle down, and the clank against the counter made my stomach lurch.
He stood up, ignoring the refills, and he rounded the counter. “I couldn’t help it,” he said. His voice was lower, huskier, and he took even steps around the counter until he was right next to me. I held my breath.
“Do you want to do it again?” I let the fog from the wine remove the last of my filter.
Ronan lifted a brow. “Do you want me to do it again?”
“Kinda,” I whispered.
“You have to say more than kinda.” Ronan’s voice was low, and he leaned toward me. I could smell the sweet wine on his breath. I wanted to taste it. I wanted his breath to replace my own.
“Yes.” My voice crawled from my throat and clung to my tongue, and I looked away from the picture on the wall. What would Dickie think?
Ronan lowered his head until his lips barely brushed mine. “Yes what?”
“Kiss me.”
Ronan’s mouth crashed to mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. His hands moved to grip my hips, tugging me against him. Then, his tongue traced my bottom lip, and when a moan slipped from between them, he swallowed it, deepening the kiss.
I snaked my arms over his shoulders, hooking them behind his neck and pulling myself as close to his body as I could get. His chest was hard against mine, and he inhaled, allowing me to feel the swell of his muscles. I swore he could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage.
Our bodies crashed against the counter when he snaked his hands into my hair and kissed me harder. For a moment, between the pangs of pain, I lost track of where his body ended and mine began. Ronan’s grip on my hair stung at the scalp, and I whimpered. The sound turned to a moan when he sank his teeth into my bottom lip.
A low groan rolled from his chest when he moved to grip my hips, and when he lifted me, it was effortless. He dropped me on the counter, settling between my legs and tugging me to the edge. I straddled him, suddenly aware of the warmth of his body against the insides of my thighs. I shivered, and a rush of arousal settled between my legs.
Reality crashed over me with my next breath, and the taste of guilt replaced the taste of wine on his tongue. I gasped. Pulling back, I turned my head away. “What are we doing, Ronan?”
“We’re kissing.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to my neck while I pushed against his chest. His kisses lined the sensitive skin beneath my ear, following the trail along my jaw. Before he made it back to my mouth, I looked down.
“We can’t do this.” The butterflies dancing in my stomach objected, crashing into my chest and reminding me they weren’t going anywhere. I swallowed the lump that swelled in my throat when he looked at me disappointed.
“Yes, we can,” he argued, leaning toward me again. I shook my head.
“No. We have to stop.” I blinked away the stinging that started in my eyes, warning me that tears I didn’t want Ronan to see would follow. “What would Dickie say?”
That made him stiffen and step back. “I think he’d be happy to know you’re well taken care of.” Ronan lowered his voice, sounding confident, even though he looked as guilty as I felt. “And I know you want more. I could taste it. I can practically smell it.”
I inhaled sharply, pressing my legs together as much as I could with Ronan still standing mostly between them. Ronan’s stare followed the lump in my throat when I gulped. “I don’t.”
Ronan chuckled, stepping away from me and grabbing his jacket from the stool. His muscles rippled when he pulled it on, and my mouth dried out. Was I sure I didn’t want more? Yes.
“I know you do. You want it as badly as I do.” He buttoned the top button of his suit before he fixed the cuffs. I watched him while he crossed the apartment to the front door, my heartbeat matching each of his pronounced steps. “I’ll see you soon, Sugar.”