Page 47
Story: Release Me
And hold my breath.
A moment later, Connor’s footfalls pad against the hardwood as he leaves.
Ronan groans. “That was close.”
I push the straps of my nightshirt down, letting the thin cotton fall to the floor before I climb into bed. “Do you think he’d actually be mad at you for this?” I fumble in the dark until I feel his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips again.
“It’s hard to tell. I know I’d kill him if he got into my sister.”
I ignore his crude choice of words. “You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Younger one. Brittany. Or Britt.”
I didn’t know that. Of course I didn’t. I know nothing about this guy I’m living next to and sleeping with.And that’s how I want it, I remind myself.
I reach out, tracing his stomach muscles. “Well, I don’t think he’d have a right to be. He practically forced you on me by letting you move in. What did he think would happen?”
Ronan rolls on top of me, positioning his hips between my legs. “That you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, obviously.”
With crisis averted, my thoughts turn to something else. “So, do I want to know what he meant by ‘helping’ him?”
His lips trail over my jawline. “Probably not.”
“Do I want to know the kinds of things you’ve done?”
“Definitely not.”
He’s right. Because I’ve heard a couple stories at work—including one about my brother and another crew guy named Jake sharing a girl—that have dropped my jaw.
And I’m not with Ronan for anything but the very thing he’s giving me, and knowing that is liberating. There’s no pull on my heartstrings, no desire to stay up until the morning learning everything there is to know about him, no wondering if this will last. I know exactly how long it’ll last—for one more week. And then he’ll go to Alaska and try to fill the void in his heart by screwing who knows how many women, and I’ll get back to my life, hopefully feeling a little better about David.
That’s what this is all about—me, helping myself move on after a horrible breakup.
The foil wrapper tears and latex crinkles as Ronan sheaths himself.
“You’re always careful though, right?” I ask.
Collecting my hands in his, he pins my arms above my head, pressing his whole body against mine. I revel in the feel of his weight. “Always.” He traces my jawline with kisses, all the way to my lips, whispering, “I’m completely yours for the week, Ryan. Use me.”
I angle my hips upward. “Gladly.”
With our fingers entwined, he lines himself up and pushes into me.
I close my eyes as the first moan slips out.
23.Ryan
All is quiet in the condo on Sunday when I wake up, two hours later than I should have. Ronan went back to his room after a slow and sensual round of sex, very different from the last two times but no less pleasurable. He still made me orgasm. That’s something I’m going to sorely miss when he’s gone.
I heard nothing from the women Connor brought home. Either he quietly packed them off last night, or they’re all still in bed together. I cringe at the thought of all those limbs and other body parts. It’s not for me.
But maybe itisfor Ronan. Had Ronan and I not been doing whatever this is, would he have gone to Connor’s room? What would have gone on in there? I can’t even imagine. It’s a good thing this little fuck-buddy arrangement expires soon, because I doubt I could keep him interested for much longer.
I’m brewing myself a coffee when a door creaks open.
It’s Ronan, staggering from his bedroom, eyes still half closed, buck naked, his dick long and hard with morning need.
I don’t avert my gaze.
A moment later, Connor’s footfalls pad against the hardwood as he leaves.
Ronan groans. “That was close.”
I push the straps of my nightshirt down, letting the thin cotton fall to the floor before I climb into bed. “Do you think he’d actually be mad at you for this?” I fumble in the dark until I feel his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips again.
“It’s hard to tell. I know I’d kill him if he got into my sister.”
I ignore his crude choice of words. “You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Younger one. Brittany. Or Britt.”
I didn’t know that. Of course I didn’t. I know nothing about this guy I’m living next to and sleeping with.And that’s how I want it, I remind myself.
I reach out, tracing his stomach muscles. “Well, I don’t think he’d have a right to be. He practically forced you on me by letting you move in. What did he think would happen?”
Ronan rolls on top of me, positioning his hips between my legs. “That you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, obviously.”
With crisis averted, my thoughts turn to something else. “So, do I want to know what he meant by ‘helping’ him?”
His lips trail over my jawline. “Probably not.”
“Do I want to know the kinds of things you’ve done?”
“Definitely not.”
He’s right. Because I’ve heard a couple stories at work—including one about my brother and another crew guy named Jake sharing a girl—that have dropped my jaw.
And I’m not with Ronan for anything but the very thing he’s giving me, and knowing that is liberating. There’s no pull on my heartstrings, no desire to stay up until the morning learning everything there is to know about him, no wondering if this will last. I know exactly how long it’ll last—for one more week. And then he’ll go to Alaska and try to fill the void in his heart by screwing who knows how many women, and I’ll get back to my life, hopefully feeling a little better about David.
That’s what this is all about—me, helping myself move on after a horrible breakup.
The foil wrapper tears and latex crinkles as Ronan sheaths himself.
“You’re always careful though, right?” I ask.
Collecting my hands in his, he pins my arms above my head, pressing his whole body against mine. I revel in the feel of his weight. “Always.” He traces my jawline with kisses, all the way to my lips, whispering, “I’m completely yours for the week, Ryan. Use me.”
I angle my hips upward. “Gladly.”
With our fingers entwined, he lines himself up and pushes into me.
I close my eyes as the first moan slips out.
23.Ryan
All is quiet in the condo on Sunday when I wake up, two hours later than I should have. Ronan went back to his room after a slow and sensual round of sex, very different from the last two times but no less pleasurable. He still made me orgasm. That’s something I’m going to sorely miss when he’s gone.
I heard nothing from the women Connor brought home. Either he quietly packed them off last night, or they’re all still in bed together. I cringe at the thought of all those limbs and other body parts. It’s not for me.
But maybe itisfor Ronan. Had Ronan and I not been doing whatever this is, would he have gone to Connor’s room? What would have gone on in there? I can’t even imagine. It’s a good thing this little fuck-buddy arrangement expires soon, because I doubt I could keep him interested for much longer.
I’m brewing myself a coffee when a door creaks open.
It’s Ronan, staggering from his bedroom, eyes still half closed, buck naked, his dick long and hard with morning need.
I don’t avert my gaze.
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