Ronan's Bride

Ronan

Ican’t believe she’s even more beautiful than she was on the video chat. I thought I was a lucky mother fucker when I matched with her. But to see her in person is even better.

My breath sticks in my throat when I get to my truck and throw her bags in the back. I’m going to touch her. I’m going to help her into my truck and hope to god that I don’t embarrass the hell out of myself and get a huge erection.

I shift my hips subtly, watching her full hips sway in front of me like a damn metronome. I used to play guitar and well remember the little device for timing. I never thought I’d be struggling not to get hard because of it though.

She reaches the door and glances behind her cautiously and that’s enough to do it for me. My dick gets rock hard when she looks over her shoulder at me, her dark hair falling like silk over her cheek, her big, green eyes so fucking wide, so innocent.

I want to dirty her the fuck up.

But she doesn’t need to know that. She needs to believe that I respect her. That I want her, sure. But that I respect her as a person. That way she trusts me.

And I need trust. I need control. Right now I feel like I’m spinning out of control.

If it wasn’t for my dad’s fucking will, it wouldn’t matter in the slightest but the old bastard just had to have the last laugh. Leave my company, the one I built up with a little seed money from him, leave that to my fucking wastrel of a cousin to blow through and bankrupt in years, if not weeks. I don’t fucking think so.

I eye the woman in front of me, waiting patiently, calmly. I smile and hit the lock and then open the door, holding my hand out to help her into the big truck.

She jumps inside it and tries to buckle her seatbelt but I push her hands out of the way, doing it myself.

“I could have done that,” she breathes.

“I want to do things for you. I need to take care of you.” Need to make myself indispensable to you so you never leave me.

I should be shot.

But I smile at her and close the door and then jog around the truck to get in. I smile softly at her and her head cocks to the side like she’s trying to figure something out. Trying to figure me out.

Last thing I need.

My eyes drop to her chest and widen. Her shirt is pulled tight behind the seat belt and I can see her full, rounded breasts clearly. Clearing my throat, I try to get myself to function like a human being. Because right now all I want to do is lay her down on this seat and fuck her senseless. An animal rutting into her.

I shove my hand into my hair and groan. Then I smile at her. “You look good.” Good enough to eat, stretched right out across this fucking seat like a damn wet dream.

I start the truck up and jerk it into gear, grinding my teeth when we move and my neck snaps back. Grimacing, I try to explain.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes she’s a little cantankerous.”

Her dark brow lifts and she smirks. “Is that why she’s a girl?”

“I’m sorry,” I ask, studying her, wondering what the joke is since her lips are turned up slightly. Her eyes sparkle and she laughs out loud.

“Do you not like women?”

“Oh shit…no. I love women.” Her eyes dim and she drops her eyes to her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. “I mean…I like women. Not all women. Just some women. I mean… shit. I like you. That’s what I mean.” I sound like I should be passing notes in a fucking high school class. All my much-vaunted control out the window when it comes to this woman.

“Thank you,” she mumbles. “I’m glad you like me. I’m sure marriage will be a lot easier because of it.”

“Dammit, I’m sorry. I’m fucking this up, Kat. By the way, what’s your real name. The application didn’t say. Just that you prefer to be called Kat. I’m pretty sure they’re gonna want your full legal name on the marriage license.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” she mutters.

“Oh come on. It can’t be that bad,” I laugh.

“Yeah. It is.”

“Well, I hope that you trust me enough to tell me soon. I want to know the name my wife was given.”