Ronan's Bride

My mind jumps to a myriad of things. She’s a wanted felon. She likes to have it rough. She likes more than one dude. She reads sleazy novels and overspends. You name it…it’s running through my mind.

I reach out a hand and tug her over to the bed. “Sit down and tell me what the trouble is,” I demand.

She bristles a little at my harsh tone, like an angry little kitten. I’m not scared of her or her confession though. If she wants to overspend and read sleazy novels. I’m on board. If she’s a felon, I’ll get the best attorney and I swear she’ll never see a jail cell. Not another guy though. I’d have to kill him afterwards. Fuck that!

“Well…”

I nod my head, waiting patiently.

“I am really afraid of storms. I can’t sleep alone when we have bad storms. I usually have a friend come over and we play cards all night.”

“What friend?” I ask, a belligerent, angry edge to my voice.

“My friend, Sienna. But of course she’s not here.”

“No…she’s not.”

“Do you want to play cards?” she asks hopefully.

And a devious, horribly bad idea pops into my head. Probably my little head because my big head would realize this is a bad idea. “I’m exhausted.” I fake a yawn and watch her nod, her hands twisting in her lap.

Hook, line and sinker.

“But if you want to sleep in here you can.”

She jumps and I caress the pulse point on her wrist, marveling at her soft, delicate skin.

“I thought you didn’t want to have sex with me until after the ceremony.”

“I don’t. I’m not going to jump you if you get in bed with me.” Hopefully. It’s going to strain my body and my self-control. But hopefully I can keep myself in check.

“Okay,” she whispers and I turn to the side, letting her slide under the sheets, her rigid body staying at least six inches from me.

Until I tug her over and pull her into my arms, listing baseball stats and football plays under my breath to keep from drilling into her.

She stiffens but then her pliant body sinks into me and I have to shove a moan down my throat.

We lay there, silent, aching for several minutes. Until she says, “what now?”

“Now we go to sleep.” I say, turning away from her and settling my butt against her ass. Which is like a damn roasting pan.

“Why is it so hot?” she complains and I laugh.

“I think that’s you. Your ass is freaking hot!”

“It is not!” she cries, shoving at me. I roll over and pin her underneath me before I think about what I’m doing.

As soon as she’s under me, I know I’ve made the biggest tactical error of my life. Because her long, muscular legs are completely exposed where her shirt has ridden up. My eyes drift down to her panty-clad middle and I groan under my breath, practically jumping away from her.

I sit up and run my fingers through my hair, ashamed of myself. “I’m sorry, Kat. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

She hasn’t moved but her eyes are closed, her breaths panting out in gentle, ragged puffs. “It’s alright,” she says, rolling back over.

I slide a pillow in between us. I want to tug her luscious backside into me. I want to feel her and know she feels my hardness against her softness.

But I let the pillow separate us and lie back on the pillow under my head. My hands go behind my head and I stare at the ceiling, hurting and annoyed with myself.

“I’m sorry, Ronan,” she whispers.