Promise Me

“I do not.”

He pulled me in closer and nuzzled my neck. “You smell nice,” he whispered. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. This was more intimate than anything Ronan Moore had ever done to me. Was the booze lowering his inhibitions?

Then the strangest and most wonderful thing happened. Ronan brushed his lips across mine. A soft moan of pleasure escaped me. He looked at me like he had never seen me before. Then he tangled his hand in my long blonde hair and he just held my face close to his, staring at me for several long minutes. “Skylar,” he said my name as if he was confused. Then he possessed my lips with his and a fierceness that left me breathless.

I let my hands slide over his broad shoulders. I didn’t know what else to do. I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him. The crush of my teenage years. The man I had been having lunch with several times a week on campus for the last three years was kissing me with a passion that was overwhelming.

A man I think I might have fallen a little in love with given every smile he directed at me. With every touch of his hands. With every laugh that we shared. This man was kissing me. His tongue teased my lips and I opened my mouth to him. He pulled me closer and I could feel how excited he was.

Suddenly, my headache was gone but my head was spinning. What was happening here? I ran my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned into my mouth. His hands slid down to cup my butt and pull me closer. Then he stopped. Just stopped kissing me. Ronan pressed his forehead to mine. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

Ronan pressed his lips to the side of my mouth. Then my jaw. The tender spot below my ear. Then he came back to my mouth. Both hands cupped my face. His lips were devouring mine once again. My hands were now at his firm waist; needing something to hold on to. My god, I wanted to climb into his lap and get as close to him as possible.

“Get a room,” I heard Stokes shout.

Our kiss became softer, less fierce. More controlled where before we were so close to being out of control. Ready to rip each other’s clothes off in the increasingly crowded nightclub. I wanted that heat back. I wanted to strip off our clothes and make love. To hell with the consequences for our friendship. Then he leaned back on the stool so he could look at me. Ronan looked troubled for a moment. Finally, he said to me. “Did you drive?”

I had. I nodded acknowledging his question. Words? I could not form them. “Take me home Skylar,” he begged. His voice held all the urgency that our kiss had. I didn’t know what he wanted when we home. I was afraid to ask but I was willing to find out.

He rose and I stepped back to give him room. He downed the remainder of his beer. “I have to get my purse,” I told him. He nodded.

He went to his friends. I saw him grab Stokes’ shirtfront. I don’t know what his friend had said but it wasn’t good. He pushed Stokes away from him and turned heading in my direction. His stride was purposeful and deliberate. He was coming for me. I told my friends goodbye and grabbed my purse.

We didn’t talk while we walked to my car. He just held my hand loosely. Sweetly. His skin was warm and rough. He was older than me. Way more experienced. He was exciting to be with. I was trying not to get overwhelmed unsure of what we were doing. We had been friends for such a long time. At the high school football games, county fairs, town events, Ronan kept the bad boys away from me when I was just a naïve teenager. I was never allowed to get into trouble if one of the Moore boys was around.

Granted I was twenty-one now, capable of making my own decisions and mistakes. What kind of a decision was taking Ronan Moore home? We didn’t talk while we drove to his apartment in Mt. Adams. It was a short drive from the club to his apartment in a city that sits high on the hills overlooking downtown Cincinnati.

We parked in the lot in front of his building and walked up three flights of stairs. Our footsteps the only sound on the iron and stone staircase. I was grateful I was on the ground floor in my own building closer to U.C. I wouldn’t want to do these steps every day.

He unlocked his apartment door and held it open for me to enter in front of him. I passed by him, my arm brushing his chest and turned waiting on him to enter behind me. We still didn’t talk as he dropped his keys on the table. No words were needed. I was beginning to get the picture. I knew what was going to happen unless I didn’t want it.

Ronan walked by me and went to the table where he turned on one light, a lamp by the sofa casting the living room in a muted, warm glow. Then he turned. He was four feet from me. Ronan stalked me across the room. He backed me against the door. My hands, he laid flat against the cool metal. His body pressed into mine so hard, I inhaled sharply.

My eyes met Ronan’s eyes. His were bleary from alcohol and maybe something more. I hesitated, questioning my sanity. I knew he wasn’t completely conscientious of what he was doing. His state of inebriation had lowered his inhibitions around me. That was pretty obvious. “You are fucking beautiful Skylar.”

Yeah, I was not stopping him now after that sexy as hell declaration. His hand slid up my bare belly and rested flat against my breast. Then he yanked the hem of my top up and over my head and tossed my shirt on the floor. “Stay with me tonight,” he groaned against the skin of my neck. His lips barely brushing across my collar bone.

“I will,” I responded with equal eagerness.

His fingers fumbled with my pants until he had them unbuttoned. Slowly, he unzipped them watching his fingers while I watched him. This didn’t seem real. I had somehow separated Ronan the man undressing me from the man who was one of my closest friends.

He slid my jeans down, they were caught on my high heels. He knelt at my feet and slipped my shoe off and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed on his coffee table. Then he helped me get my leg out of one pants leg while I balanced myself on one of his broad shoulders. He got rid of my other shoe and finally my jeans. He tossed my items of clothing wherever they landed. His hands slid up my bare legs causing me to tremble beneath his soft touch. He kissed my belly and I dug my fingers into his hair.

Ronan’s lips inched towards the waistband of my underwear and my heart galloped in my chest. His hands suddenly yanked them down my legs and I gasped. He didn’t stop what he was doing to look up and see if I was all right. He cupped my butt practically lifting my feet off the ground he buried his face between my legs and it was raw and dirty and I loved it.

His whiskers rubbed my inner thighs leaving burn marks against my fair skin. His tongue was sof

t and gentle then his whiskers were rough and exciting as he moved his face across my most sensitive skin. I was wiggling against his face; unable to stay still for the torment he was causing. My legs began to shake. I knew I was getting close to orgasm. Then I groaned and I mean I groaned loudly when Ronan slid his finger inside me to add to the chaos that he was creating in my body with his mouth.

I exploded in a flurry of throbbing, painful pleasure. He chuckled at my discomfort. I could barely stay standing on my feet. He rose towering over me.

I wanted to see him now. I yanked his shirt up but he had to help me get it over his head because he was so much taller than me. I ran my hands over his hard abs. His soft, hair covered pecs. His shirt joined my clothes. His shoes he kicked off somewhere. I didn’t notice or care. I was too busy checking him out. He was looking down at me again like he had never seen me before. He hadn’t at least not naked.

I reached behind and undid the hooks of my bra. The straps slowly slid down my arms until the bra hit the floor between us. He glanced down then he looked at my face. Ronan cupped my cheek in his big hand. His lips touched mine in a sweet, gentle kiss. Was he like this with every woman?

Suddenly Ronan scooped me up in his arms and staggered a bit. My back hit the door and I gasped at the coldness that met my bare skin. His lips bruised mine with a kiss that was both possessive and hard. “Last chance,” he whispered against my lips. One hand crushed my breast in his hard grasp, one hand held me firmly against him, gripping my ass.

“Take me to your bed.”