by Mia Asher
“Take me somewhere, Ronan. Make it all go away.”
We ride a cab to a hotel in silence. We don’t touch each other. There’s no need. The connection between us has never been stronger. It’s electrifying. If I closed my eyes, I would know that he was sitting next to me. I would feel him everywhere he went. He could change his appearance, change his name, become someone else, and my soul would continue to recognize him. My Ronan.
He reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Are you okay?”
I lick my lips. “Yes.”
There are no nerves. No fear. No what ifs. For the first time since I can remember, it feels right. It feels like I am right where I belong—next to him.
In an unspoken agreement, we go to a hotel where there aren’t any memories of others. It’s a place where we can start anew. I laugh when he checks us in as newlyweds. Mr. and Mrs. Klein. Hidden meanings behind our stolen glances. I want you. Make me yours. You’re mine. Always. Euphoria vibrates through every pore of my body. My senses hum, coming alive whenever we touch accidentally. Oh, sweet anticipation.
We stand inside the small, dark room. Our shared and labored breaths are the only sound that you can hear. He takes a step toward me. I take a step toward him. We come together. Ronan and I undress each other slowly, taking our time, discarding the wet clothes on the floor until there’s no barrier between us. Skin against skin, his hands on my waist draw me closer to him. But it’s not close enough. It will never be.
Our hands caress and relearn, their touch tender and forgiving—healing. My fingers slide over his skin, his nipples pebbling under my touch. Slowly, Ronan dips his head and kisses me. It’s tender at first, then angry, then tender again. We kiss and kiss and kiss until our lips are sore and we’re left breathless.
Ronan whispers my name over and over again like a litany, bringing us closer together, marking me as his own. Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire … He calls for me, and every part of me surrenders to him. And together, we fly so high.
Ronan grips my shoulders and turns us both around to face a full-length mirror hanging on the wall. In the reflection of the glass, there’s a man whose beauty makes me want to weep for its perfection. His skin is light caramel. His body is made for worshipping.
“We belong together,” he says, his voice husky with passion. “You hear me?”
I watch him snake a hand down my body while he dips his head and kisses the curve of my neck before biting it. Our gazes meet in the mirror as his fingers cup my tits, rubbing and tugging my nipples. I gasp and recline my head back on his shoulder, seeing him fight for control as he continues his indecent exploration of my body. Reaching behind me, I wrap a hand on his erection. I curl my fingers around his hard cock and begin to stroke him, feeling the hot heat of his hardness slide through my palm.
I grip him harder making him moan. “Take me.”
Losing the little control that he has left, Ronan pushes me forward until my front is touching the glass. I stare at his reflection in the mirror as he grips my hand holding his dick and makes us both rub the head against my pussy, spreading its folds, and rubbing my clit.
“No more,” I beg, guiding him toward my entrance. “I need you inside me.”
Ronan places a hand on the small of my back, urging me to bend at the waist. I let go of his cock and place my hands in front of me for support. I’m a slave at his feet. Blood rushes to my head. My pussy is dripping wet with want as he nudges my thighs to open wider for him. “Fuck,” he curses long and slow, impaling me with one deep, fierce thrust.
And it’s paradise.
He slowly pulls back, and when he’s almost all the way out, he thrusts forward again and again and again. Each thrust is more aggressive than the last, more demanding.
“I want to hear you say those words,” he orders harshly, pounding harder, faster. “Say it, Blaire.”
I lift my ass higher to give him better access. “I love you.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you,” I moan.
He fucks me incessantly, dominating me with his body, with his hands, with everything that he is. And I give him every piece of me, surrendering my soul and myself to him. “Again.” His voice shakes.
“I love you,” I repeat, watching as tears begin to roll down his chiseled cheeks.
“Again.”
“I love you, Ronan.”
“You’re mine, do you hear?” He grips my hips forcefully, pumping in and out of me, bringing me closer to the edge. “Give me a thousand lives and a thousand eternities, and I would still find you and make you mine. Always.”
“Ronan … I …” I close my eyes and come undone. Ronan groans, finding his own release, as I feel a warm rush spreading deep inside me, filling me completely.
I wake up sometime in the middle of the night. Fear grips my chest when I discover that Ronan isn’t lying next to me. As my sight grows accustomed to the dark, I find his naked form sitting on a chair and looking out the window. Apprehension runs through my veins, making me doubt my next step. But a small voice inside me urges me to go to him.
Looking around for something to wrap myself in, I locate his discarded shirt on the floor and put it on. He glances back and sees me. He reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap so I’m sitting astride his legs. Ronan then grasps my thighs under the shirt and tugs me forward, bridging the space between us. In this position, I can feel his thick cock spreading the lips of my pussy apart, warmth gathering at my core.
A hot blush coats my cheeks as I lower my gaze and begin to trace the outlines of the tattoos adorning his carved torso. How devastatingly beautiful you are. Ronan places a hand behind my neck and gently pulls me toward him. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair. The beating of his heart soothes me. His touch hypnotizes me.
“What made you go to Central Park?”
“I went to your apartment first, but you weren’t there. I didn’t know what to do or where you were, so I ended up going there.”
“Why?”
“I guess it’s because it reminds me of you.”
Happiness swells within me, making me float. More minutes pass in comfortable silence.
“I need to know, Blaire,” he says hoarsely, fear embedded in his words.
I tilt my head back and stare into his warm brown eyes that show me his soul. “What is it?”
“I saw the two of you at the masquerade …”
“Oh.” I bite my lip.
“Do you,” he pauses, “do you love him?” The question is torn from him. I can almost taste the blood it draws from him on my tongue.
I think of everything that we’ve been through to finally get to this moment; all the heartache, the lies, and the deceit. I wish that I could explain to Ronan that I don’t love Lawrence the way that I love him. That a small part of me, the one who loves another man, will always mourn for him. But I’m finally with Ronan to whom I belong body and soul. I remain silent, unable to lie to him.
Sometimes what is not said is answer enough.
“I see …” A cloud of sadness crosses his eyes before closing them.
“Did you love her?”
He looks at me again. “I don’t think so. I liked her a lot, Blaire. I liked being with her, we had fun together, and the sex took my mind off of you. She helped me when the dark was so fucking dark I couldn’t see …”
His response is like a dagger to my heart, but it would be naïve to think that we’re the same two people who fell in love during an idyllic summer. We’ve both lived many lives since then, lives that have changed us. But at the core, I hope that our love for one another remains just as strong as it was before. That it can glue us back together.
“You feel this?” I place my hands on his shoulders as I begin to rub myself against him. “It’s yours. Only yours.” I kiss his jaw, each corner of his lips, his mouth. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I can’t.” Groaning, Ronan
holds me by the waist as I undulate my hips over his growing erection. It swells and throbs for me. “All we can do is move on. Together.”
I cup his cheek as Ronan grabs his cock in his hand, pulling me forward with the other, and enters me in one swift, deep thrust. Moaning, I close my eyes momentarily at the feel of him moving inside me. So hard. So thick. “I know that too much has happened and it has changed us, but together we will get through it. I know it.”
Ronan thrusts upwards. “Are you thinking about him now?”
“No, baby.” I caress the crest of his cheek. “I’m not.”
We fuck then. It’s angry and fast. Bruising. It is as though he’s trying to fuck Lawrence’s memory out of me, out of the room, out of my heart until it’s only him I feel inside, around me, everywhere. He brands himself on me, in me, claiming me as his once again.
And I let him. I give him everything that he wants.
When we’re finished, he picks me up and carries me back to bed. His arms, strong like corded steel, come around me from behind, pulling me closer to him. We lie down in silence as our breathing slows down.
“I talked to Elly.”
I stroke the skin of his arm, smiling. “So that’s why you came after me, huh? And here I thought it was because you couldn’t live without me,” I tease.
“I can’t live without you, Blaire,” he states before nuzzling my neck. “But tell me why?”
“Why did I leave?” I sigh while I tell myself that he has every right to know, and the only way that we will have a chance at making it is to finally be honest with him. “I hope you’re not sleepy because it’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He reaches for my hand, squeezing it. It’s such a small gesture, but it makes me feel like I’m not alone.
“Where should I start? There’s so much to tell.”
“Start at the beginning, babe.”
And I do. I tell him everything about my childhood, my life in New York City and all the men that came before him, why I left him, and what happened after that with Lawrence and my parents. There are no more barriers and walls left around us.
After I pour my heart out for what seems like hours, I’m embarrassed to even look at him. There’s no scarier feeling than opening yourself to someone, exposing every ugly and flawed piece of you, and hoping that they will love you, despite it all.
“You know, all my life I thought that it was my fault that my parents fought. That if I behaved like the perfect child, they would stay together, love each other and me. But I know now that it had nothing to do with me or with the love that they felt for me. The realization is …” I swallow, trying to soothe the ache in my chest. “Freeing.”
Letting me go, Ronan grabs me by my shoulder and turns me to face him. “Hey, hey,” he says gently. “Don’t hide from me, baby. Come here.” He embraces me in a hug so tight it’s hard to breathe. “Listen to me, Blaire … every sharp corner, every single scar that you have is mine to love. And I will help you heal because I’m a selfish bastard and I need you in my life to be complete.”
“I don’t deserve you.” My heart swells. I shake my head. “I’m not worthy of you.”
“Here, babe.” Placing a hand under my chin, he tips it up and makes me look at him. “We both made mistakes. I just wish I had fought harder for you. I shouldn’t have let you walk away from me so easily.”
“But I said all those things …”
“They wouldn’t have mattered.” He moves to lie on his back, bringing me with him. Ronan stares at the ceiling as he caresses my naked back with his fingers. If I were a cat, I would purr. “You know … in a way, I’m glad that I met Rachel and Carl. Because without them, I wouldn’t understand how easy it is to get carried away into a world where every luxury, every whim, and desire is within reach. I wouldn’t understand how easy it is to be seduced by their lifestyle.”
He sighs. “I liked it, Blaire. I loved the adoration I saw in their eyes, people wanting to know me, how easy it all seemed. So now you see I’m not perfect. Far fucking from it, actually.”
“But you are talented, Ronan. I’ve seen some of your photographs and I read the article. The reporter seemed very impressed.”
He smiles ruefully. “Am I? I guess we’ll find out soon. My first exhibit is next week.”
I kiss his chest. “It’s going to be a smashing hit.”
“Blaire?”
“Yes?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “If you could have one wish, what would it be?”
I caress the left side of his face, staring at him. You. “I’m good. What about you?”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and dips his head to kiss the top of my head. “I would steal you, take you somewhere where no one knows us and start all over again.”
“Could I open a bookstore?” I ask, making him laugh.
“Yes, babe. You could do whatever you wanted.” Smiling crookedly, he adds, “As long as I got to do whatever I wanted to you at night.”
“Steal me away then.” I grin against his skin, thinking how easy it is to dream. “But go on. I like this.”
“There wouldn’t be a Lawrence—”
“Or Rachel,” I add.
“Or Rachel,” he repeats, chuckling.
“And what would our names be?”
He raises an eyebrow, answering drolly. But he can’t hide the amusement sparkling in his lovely eyes. “I’m surprised at you, Mrs. Klein.”
I giggle as I move away from him, kneeling on the bed with his body between my legs. Lifting my left hand, I say, “I don’t see a ring, do you?”
Ronan reaches for the notepad with the logo of the hotel lying on the nightstand. After he rips a page off, he rolls it into a long, thin line. Taking my hand in his, he ties the piece of paper around my ring finger as though it is the real thing.
“There,” he says smugly. “What were you saying now, Mrs. Klein?”
I close my hand with the paper ring, making a tight fist, and press it against my chest. Ronan’s boyishly handsome features blur as I try to speak, but the words get stuck in my throat. A river of emotions rushes through me, dragging me down, making it impossible to breathe.
Sitting up, Ronan reaches for my hand and kisses it tenderly. “Let’s run away together, Blaire. Let’s leave it all behind us. It will be just you and me, babe. Starting all over again with nothing coming between us.” He grins. “And maybe down the road, you can make an honest man out of me and marry my sorry ass.”
My lips tremble. “Ronan …”
“Why does it have to be a wish or a dream?” he whispers huskily, burying his hands in my hair, his long fingers cradling the back of my head. “Why can’t it be a reality?”
I place my hands on top of his. Dispassionately, I notice that they are trembling too. “You don’t mean it—”
“I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Blaire. I want to watch your belly swell with my babies inside you. I want to wake up every morning and fall asleep each night with you next to me. I once told you that one day you were going to let me love you and I was never going to let you go, that I would love you as if it were the only thing I was meant to do. Nothing has changed.” He kisses my nose before resting his forehead against mine. “One lifetime wouldn’t be enough when I’m with you.”
“Is this really happening?”
Cupping my face, Ronan wipes the tears rolling down my cheeks. “It has to, babe,” he murmurs so softly, so tenderly, it makes my heart ache with love. “Tomorrow morning we go to JFK and our new life. Making love, living, laughing. We won’t have much at first, but I’ll find work with my camera and provide for you.”
The picture he paints is so lovely, so perfect, I can almost see us living it. He would leave in the morning after making slow love to me. I would dress, run my hands over my stomach feeling a small bump full with life, and then I would walk to my bookstore. Life would be sweet. We wouldn’t have much, but we would be happy.
The old me would think I’m stupid to even consider it. She would say that love would eventually die when we didn’t have enough money in the bank to pay the bills. Sex would be replaced by obligations. Laughter by the buzz of the television. And maybe that old Blaire is right, but I also know the old Blaire wasn’t happy. She had money and security. Yet her heart remained empty.
No … I’m done listening to her. Life becomes beautiful when we learn to appreciate what we have and be thankful for it. Life becomes beautiful when we stop coveting things we don’t have and are grateful for what we do have. Life is beautiful when we choose to make it beautiful.
Mistaking my silence for hesitation, he adds, “It won’t be what you’re used to, I know, but—”
“Shh.” I place a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Those things don’t matter to me anymore.” Frowning, I think of a hiccup that could potentially mar our happiness. “But what about your exhibit? You’re about to get your big break, Ronan. You can’t leave now.”
He wraps a hand around my neck possessively as he bends forward and begins to trail kisses on my neck, my jaw, my shoulder; making me tremble with hunger for him. “I don’t care about it. Carl can keep the photographs and the money. I don’t want any of it. I want to try doing it without their help—the right way. I want to be proud of what I’ve achieved, babe. And I can’t be proud of what feels like was handed to me because of—”
“Rachel,” I finish for him.
He nods, kissing my neck. “It’s all a big reminder of a life without you.”
I place my hands on his shoulders for support as a moan escapes my mouth. “You make me want to be selfish and agree to your plan …” Ronan begins to roll his hips against me, sliding his cock between my pussy, lighting me on fucking fire.
“But it would be unfair to you,” I moan, closing my eyes. “What if we waited until after your exhibit?”
“Don’t,” he breathes huskily. He licks his thumb and lowers it between us, rubbing my clit and making the room swirl, my senses coming alive with his touch. My body sings for him.