Page 22

22

RONAN

M oving in a fog, I squirm to the edge of the bed to try and scoop Nicky off the floor.

It’s only then that I realize that my hand is stuck inside my pants. And wrapped around my cock.

No fucking way.

From her position on the floor, Nicky watches me. “You said my name…” she rushes out. Her eyes are wide. And I can’t tell if that expression is horror. Or shock.

Or…arousal?

The jigsaw puzzle in my groggy mind starts piecing itself together as I try to retrace tonight’s events.

We were watching TV and I fell asleep. I started having one of my vivid dreams. About Nicky. And I’m sure as fuck I started moaning her name.

“Shit…” I mutter.

“Shit?” Nicky repeats, setting the lamp upright on the carpet beside her. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

I rake my fingers through my hair. The strands flop over my face and I’m pretty sure I look crazy as hell right now.

“What do you want me to say, Nicky? It’s not my fault. It was a dream. I don’t have control over what I dream.” I extend a hand to her. “Are you gonna let me help you off the floor?”

Her suspicious eyes dart to my hand.

Oh, right. That’s the hand that was just inside my boxers, choking my dick. I wouldn’t want to touch it either, if I were her.

Pressing her palms to the floor, she pushes herself up and rises on her own. Hovering over the bed, she eyeballs me. That honey brown gaze is on fire as it narrows on my eyes. “So, you were dreaming about me?”

“Yes. It happens sometimes.”

Her jaw drops open.

“Often, actually,” I throw in for whatever reason. I have a death wish, apparently.

Nicky’s nostrils flare with outrage.

“I’m sorry. It’s harmless. I swear.” I’m not making this any better. My hands shoot up in defense and internally, I say a silent prayer that she doesn’t throttle me.

“Often…?” she mutters, absolutely incensed.

Fuck. At this stage, there’s no point in lying. “Yes. Often.”

She goes silent. Standing before me, her gaze drops down to the carpet.

My heart ticks like a time bomb as I wait for her reaction. I expect violence. Lots of violence. Maybe some blood will be shed. My blood, just to be clear.

But instead, when Nicky’s eyes climb back to mine, they’re shy and curious. “What…what do you dream about?” she asks, her voice unmistakably breathy.

Okay, um. That I did not see coming.

I slide my fingers into my hair again, feeling like a perv. “Uh…um.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ronan.” Her honey brown irises bounce around my face. “I want to know.”

My palms are sweating. My pulse is pounding so hard. But she asked the question. So I’m going to tell her the truth. “Your mouth…”

Her breath hisses on a sharp inhale. “What…?”

My attention drops to those pretty peach lips. Wanna taste them so bad.

“I dream about your mouth, Nicky.”

Her tongue darts out. It slowly drags across her bottom lip. My eyes follow the movement.

In a trance, I rise off the bed and stand before her. My thumb comes up and traces a path across her mouth, softly pulling down her bottom lip. I lean down by her ear. “I dream about all the things I could do to these pretty lips.”

I expect her to tell me off. To push me away. To slap me across the face and go on one of her trademark diatribes about professional boundaries and all.

Rather, her lips fall open. She draws my finger into her mouth, gently biting into the calloused tip. I hiss with arousal at the sting.

“You shouldn’t be touching me like that…” she whispers, her voice cracking under the weight of her arousal. Her tongue circles my fingertip.

Her words lack her usual sass. They lack any conviction at all. In fact, her body language says the exact opposite of the words leaving her mouth.

“But you want me to…” I say, daring to loop my free arm around her waist.

I can’t lie. Nicky can be headstrong. Sassy. Intimidating. She’s the kind of woman who would rip off your balls, put them in a cardboard shipping box and leave them on your mother’s front porch, if you step out of line.

But I stand by what I said to her. She needs a man who’s brave enough to handle all that fire of hers. A man who won’t back down. A man who’s willing to battle.

Fuck. I’d do battle for her. Gladly. She’s worth it.

Body pressed against mine, she nods. “Tell me more…” she demands softly. “I want to know everything. Tell me what you dream about doing to me.”

“I dream about tasting your mouth. And your breasts. And that place between your legs.” I slide my thigh between hers and instantly, her hips grind down. “I dream about that a lot. ”

I hear her breath catch in her throat.

The fruity scent of her shampoo surrounds me. I can smell her arousal in the air. My balls are aching. My dick is a steel rod.

I carry on. “I want to make you come so hard. I dream about sitting your pussy on my tongue. And licking you until you’re squeezing your thighs around my face. Until your body is shaking. Until you’re screaming so loud it ends up on the six o’clock news.”

“Oh yeah?” she whispers with a laugh. “On the news?”

“I can see the headlines now.” I lean in and sink my teeth into the lobe of her ear. “ Honey Hill woman’s orgasm mistaken for 6.5 magnitude earthquake… ”

She giggles. “You’re ridiculous.”

“ Young lady’s moans disrupt international telecommunications networks… ”

Her laughter grows.

“ Meet Nicky Westbrook—the woman whose sex screams could be heard by astronauts all the way at the International Space Station… ”

Her face tilts up, honey irises twinkling as she looks into my eyes. “You’ve got jokes, Hockey Guy. But can you even back any of that up?”

“I absolutely fucking guarantee it.” I let my hand slip down to the curve of her ass. “When I flip you onto your stomach, with your face down in the pillows and your ass up in the air…when I spread your legs and lick every part of you without skipping one inch…I’m gonna blow your fucking mind, Peach.”

My pulse throbs in my throat. My skin prickles with danger. We’re in such an intimate position. If either of us moved an inch, our lips would touch.

Should I even be this close to her?

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, you need to walk away. Now.”

But she doesn’t walk away. Instead, she inches closer, pressing her curves against me. Her words come out in a whisper. “Kiss me, Ronan. I don’t care if it’s wrong. Just kiss me.”