He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “I do not have a problem with anything that’s happening right now.”
She rolled on top of him and lowered her mouth to his.
6
She knew what he was doing. Knew that he was trying to draw her out, get her talking about the stuff he thought she kept pent up inside.
But talking didn’t change anything. Not really. It didn’t even make her feel better most of the time, if she was being honest with herself. What did make her feel better was this: Ronan’s body against hers, his rigid cock nestled between her thighs as she straddled him, the heat of his tongue sparring with hers while his hands roamed her skin.
She leaned down to deepen their kiss, relishing the urgency of his tongue sweeping her mouth, the way he stretched to meet her, like he couldn’t get close enough.
He rose off the bed, his lower body still pinned under her, and lifted the hem of her shirt. She’d pulled it on without a bra after her bath and he wasted no time closing his lips around one of her nipples.
The heat of his mouth sent electricity sizzling along the surface of her skin until it exploded deep in her belly. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he teased the peak with his mouth, raking it with his teeth until it almost hurt, then lapping gently until she was begging for his teeth again.
She shoved her fingers into his hair, twining them into the dark, silky strands and tightening her grip until he groaned against her breast. She pulled off his shirt and left kisses along the muscled ridge of his shoulder.
He tightened his grip on her ass, spreading her cheeks until she sank more heavily against his shaft, the length of him nestled in her folds through the thin fabric of her sweatpants. He nestled his face between her breasts and inhaled like he was trying to breathe her in.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply before lifting off him and scooting between his legs.
She unbuttoned his jeans and worked the zipper, then slid them off his hips along with his underwear, a swell of wet heat blooming at her center when his cock sprang free.
She tossed the jeans aside and slid off her sweats and underwear before returning to her spot between his legs, her gaze sweeping his naked body.
He was a study in perfection, his eyes hooded with desire and as blue as the waters in Greece where she’d learned to dive. His shoulders were magnificently sculpted, leading to massive upper arms, strong enough to carry her without effort, to hold her close and make her believe nothing would ever hurt her again.
Her gaze traveled over the defined peaks of his chest, down his corded abs and tapered waist to the dark trail of hair that led to his cock, thick and hard and waiting for her mouth and hands and body.
She leaned over him and ran her hands over his chest.
“Kiss me,” he said, his voice gruff as he looked down at her.
“Soon.” She touched her lips to his pecs, flicked her tongue against his nipples, kissed her way down his stomach.
She wanted him in her mouth. Wanted him to fill her until there was no room for anything else.
She lay between his legs and wrapped her hand around his shaft, feeling satisfied when it leapt in her hand. She was always surprised by the magnificence of his cock: the satiny smoothness of it in her palm, the weight and heft of it, the wide head that tunneled through her like a battering ram wrapped in velvet.
She stroked him slowly, kissing the tip and flicking it with her tongue, licking the drop of semen that had already gathered there.
She wrapped her lips around his head and sucked, his groan deep enough to vibrate through his body like a warning. She slid her hand along his shaft while she worked his swollen head, licking and sucking, taking him deeper in her mouth until she had all of him.
She held him at the back of her throat while she massaged his balls and felt his hands slide into her hair.
“Fuck, Julia…”
Her own body responded to the sensation of him in her mouth, a vacuum of need opening up at her core, desperate for the completion of his cock inside her. She slid her mouth slowly up his shaft, lingering to suck at the engorged crown before sliding back down, letting him hit the back of her throat.
His hands tightened in her hair, pulling just enough to send a white-hot jolt of need to her pussy.
This was what she’d wanted: the all-consuming desire that forced everything else from her mind, that pushed everything else to the periphery.
Everything except Ronan.
Her body had a mind of its own, her mouth wetting his cock while her hand worked his shaft, her movements growing faster and more urgent as her own body started clamoring for release.
“Julia… come here, beautiful.” His voice broke into her thoughts and he sat up, taking her face in his hands. “I need to be inside you.”
She straddled his hips, poised over his cock, and leaned toward the nightstand for a condom. She slid it over his shaft, damp from her mouth, and positioned him at her entrance.
He cradled her face as he kissed her, his tongue occupying her mouth like an invading army, taking possession of every shadowed corner. His hands roamed across her shoulders, over her breasts, down to her waist, tracing her like an artist who wanted to remember his subject.
He drew one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked and she lowered herself slowly onto his shaft with a sigh, relishing the slow slide of him through her wet and swollen channel.
“Oh, god… Ronan…”
He grabbed onto her ass as she dragged herself off him, letting his tip hover at her entrance until he pushed her back down, thrusting upward so viciously she cried out with the pleasure of it. She took her time when he was all the way inside her, grinding against him on the downstroke, using the position to stoke the fire of her orgasm.
Their bodies were pressed so tightly together she didn’t know where he ended and she began. Maybe they weren’t two people after all.
She clutched at his shoulders as their movements grew more frenzied, Ronan pushing up into her as she dropped onto him again and again, the friction on her clit building to an undeniable demand. Heat radiated outward from her center as the pressure built, the room around them receding as sensation took over, no room for anything but the pleasure firing at every nerve ending, her orgasm unfolding inside her like a revelation.
“Ronan…”
He grabbed her ass and spread her open, and she dropped further onto his cock, his tip slamming against her cervix, her clit swelling like a wave at its crest.
She fell into the orgasm all at once, light exploding behind her eyes as her body shuddered against him, the contractions rocking her body like an underwater earthquake, violent and fluid.
He growled as his own release took hold, his cock still driving through her channel as he came. He clutched at her hips, pushing her onto him as his body shook against hers, not stopping until she had collapsed against him, wanting to make sure he’d wrung every tremor from her bones.
They didn’t move for a long time, both of them sweating and panting, letting their breath return to normal. When he finally took her head in his hands, he kissed her long and slow before leaning his forehead against hers.
He seemed to see right through her. “If this is what you need from me, you got it, Julia. But I won’t let you hide from me forever.”
7
Ronan passed Nick and Declan, sitting at the island flipping through their phones, and came up behind Julia to rest his head on her shoulder. He loved being with her in the morning, her hair messy, skin smelling like sleep and sex.
“Smells good,” he said, eying the bacon sizzling in the pan.
She laughed and reached for a piece of cooked bacon resting on a paper towel. “Don’t tell.”
He took it with a grin and kissed her cheek.
“I saw that,” Declan said.
“Me too,” said Nick. “No fair. I want bacon.”
Ronan watched Julia flip the last of the pancakes on the griddle, then
turned to his brothers and shoved the piece of bacon in his mouth.
“Asshole,” Declan said.
Julia turned off the heat on the stove and slid the last of the pancakes onto a platter already groaning with them. She set the platter on the kitchen island along with two overflowing plates of bacon.
“Never thought I’d see the day when a bunch of tough guys argue like five-year-olds over who has the most bacon,” she said.
“Is there still coffee?” Elise asked, coming into the room.
“I made a fresh pot,” Julia said, reaching into one of the cupboards for a mug. She poured coffee into it and handed it to Elise. “Sleep okay?”
Ronan knew it was a rhetorical question. Elise didn’t sleep much, as evidenced by the shadows under her eyes. More than once he’d woken up to find Julia not in bed next to him, but asleep on one end of the sofa in the main living area, Else asleep on the other end. The TV would still be on, the sound muted, the two sisters curled like little girls under the blanket they’d brought from their apartment.
“Fine,” Elise said, taking the plate Julia held out to her.
Her reluctance was obvious. Like so many things, eating didn’t hold much interest for Elise since she’d been back.
Nick and Declan, co-conspirators in getting Elise to eat more, held back on the food while Elise put a pancake and a piece of bacon on her plate. Once she was clear of the island, they jostled like kids to grab their share before it was too late.
Ronan shook his head, but he couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through his chest. The house was full and noisy, almost like the old days when Ronan’s mother had been alive, back when Erin had still been an innocent kid, before they had to make hard choices in the wake of her death.
Ronan made a plate for Julia, careful to slip the butter between the pancakes the way she liked, while Nick and Declan fought over the syrup. When he turned to hand the plate to Julia, she was smiling at him.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the plate.
“These animals forgot that the chef always gets the first plate,” Ronan said, indicating Nick and Declan.
“It’s a compliment,” Declan said with his mouth full. “We like your cooking.”
“Exactly,” Nick said, following Declan out into the courtyard where Elise was already sitting at the patio table with her plate.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Julia called after them.
She waited while Ronan made a plate for himself, and they joined the others outside, leaving the French doors open to let fresh air into the house. It was a perfect October morning, the sky deep and blue, the air just crisp enough to warrant a sweater.
Chief trotted over and Julia gave the dog a piece of bacon from her plate.
“You’re not even trying to hide it anymore,” Ronan accused.
She shrugged and Declan laughed.
Ronan looked around, realizing the table was full. He thought about the ring in his nightstand drawer and wanted to say something about needing a bigger table, maybe even a dining room now that they actually ate their meals together, crowded around the island or in the living room instead of standing at the counter on different schedules.
But he didn’t want to scare Julia, didn’t want to push his luck with talk about the future when they were still trying to close the book on the past. Julia had had a tough night dealing with her mom, and watching out for Elise was a full-time job.
One thing at a time.
He was reaching for the extra syrup Julia had brought to the table when his phone rang from the pocket of his jeans. He looked at the display and stood as he accepted the call.
“Kane.” Ronan stepped into the kitchen, not wanting to spoil breakfast with talk of business. “What’s the word?”
“The boat was pretty clean,” Braden said on the other end of the line. “It had definitely been swept before they set it on fire.”
Ronan sighed. “So the Feds didn’t find anything.”
“I didn’t say that,” Braden said. “They found a cufflink wedged between the floorboards and a wall behind one of the beds.”
“A cufflink,” Ronan repeated. It wasn’t the best thing they could have found, but maybe they could pull a partial print off it.
“A monogrammed cufflink,” Kane said.
Ronan’s pulse beat faster. “Monogrammed with what?”
“Initials,” Kane said. “MG.”
“MG… Mark Gordon,” Ronan said.
“That’s what I thought too,” Kane said.
“Well, goddamn,” Ronan said under his breath.
They had finally gotten a break.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Ronan said.
“No problem. What are you going to do?” Kane asked.
Ronan thought about it. He didn’t know where Mark Gordon would lead, didn’t know how many men stood on his shoulders at the top of Manifest’s hierarchy, but he would follow the clue until it led to the next one and the next and the next.
He would follow it until he destroyed Manifest and everyone responsible for their crimes.
“I’m going to ruin them,” Ronan said. “And I’m going to kill anyone who gets in my way.”
8
Julia stared up at the board, her eyes focused on the pictures of Mark Gordon.
She’d always known it was him.
It was easy to say now, but it was true. Somewhere inside, she’d seen his cruelty in the flat shine of his eyes, the way he carried himself in his photographs like he was daring whoever was looking at them to fuck with him.
“What’s Gordon’s private security profile?” Ronan asked, his eyes focused on the board.
There were several pictures of Gordon, all taken with a zoom lens that made it look like the photographer had been up close and personal with Gordon when he or she had probably been across the street.
Gordon exiting a Humvee in tactical gear, his flak jacket covering the same kind of camo worn by the military in the desert, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
Gordon in khakis and a polo, sitting across from the Vice President of the United States on the patio of some ritzy country club.
Gordon in a suit, walking purposefully toward the glass doors of a skyscraper.
“Pretty low-key actually,” Declan said, putting his feet on the conference room table and leaning so far back in his chair Julia thought he might tip over.
Ronan scowled. “Go on.”
Julia didn’t like the look in Ronan’s eyes, but she understood it. After weeks of frustration, they finally had a new lead on Manifest and Ronan was ready to do battle. He never found Declan’s antics anything but annoying, but now more than ever he wouldn’t put up with Declan’s shit.
Declan straightened his chair and shrugged. “Travels mostly with one guy — Jesse Martin. Guy is on the payroll for Viribus, but he seems to be Gordon’s personal body man more than anything.”
“That’s it?” Ronan asked. “One guy?”
“When he’s alone,” Nick said. “They deploy teams when a mission calls for it. And Martin isn’t just one guy — he’s one nasty guy, stationed with Gordon in Fallujah in ’04.”
Ronan lifted an eyebrow. “They were part of Phantom Fury?”
“You got it,” Nick said.
Julia had no idea what they were talking about, but from the look on Ronan’s face and the way his voice had gotten quiet, she gathered it wasn’t great news.
“What’s Phantom Fury?” she asked.
“Also known as the Battle of Fallujah,” Ronan said. “Aka the bloodiest battle of the Iraq war.”
“Eighty-two of our soldiers were killed,” Nick said.
Ronan turned his gaze back to the photographs on the board. “But not these two.”
Julia didn’t have to be an expert on the military to know what he was thinking: Gordon and Martin had escaped the deadliest battle of the Iraq War.
Getting them to talk about Manifest wasn’t going to be easy.
“Family
?” Ronan asked.
“No on Martin,” Nick said. “Gordon’s been divorced three times, has one daughter, fifteen, from his second marriage.”
“We can use that,” Ronan said. His words didn’t worry her. Ronan would never hurt an innocent, but Gordon didn’t know that. “Where is she?”
“Lives in San Diego with her mom,” Nick said.
“Put surveillance on the daughter,” Ronan said. “Give us a lot of pictures to work with, a lot of data.”
Nick nodded.
“Where is Gordon now?” Ronan asked.
“En route to Monaco,” Declan said. “Working a private contract for the Prime Minister of Chechnya.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ronan said.
Declan shook his head. “I’m not.”
“Kidding about what?”
The voice came from Elise, standing in the conference room doorway.
Julia stood. “Elise… you shouldn’t be here. Want me to send out for some food or something?”
Julia was surprised to see Elise’s eyes flash. “I’m not a kid.”
“I know that,” Julia said. “I just… this…” She looked helplessly at the board, covered with pictures and information on men who had helped kidnap Elise, who had held her hostage, who had tried to sell her on the DarkNet.
“It’s not pretty,” Ronan said. “We’re trying to protect you.”
“No one can protect me,” Elise said, walking into the room and sitting in one of the chairs. “It’s too late for that. What more can they do to me?”
It was the first time she’d even danced around the subject of what had happened to her during the weeks she’d been held prisoner.
Ronan looked at Julia, but what could Julia say? No one had more of a right to be here than Elise.
“You sure?” Julia asked her. “It’s going to get… ugly.”’
Elise sat back in the chair, making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s already been ugly.”
Julia looked at Ronan and nodded, and Ronan reluctantly turned his attention back to the board.
Murphy’s Love: Murphy’s Law Book Three Page 4