“Nope. I've got no idea why it was so packed. Maybe people heard I had a hot new waitress,” he suggested, grinning.
In answer, she laughed and said, “Oh. I think you effectively squashed everyone's hopes tonight.”
Ronan looked up from the table he was wiping down in time to see her cross then uncross her legs. The invitation in her eyes had his cock straining against his zipper. He could smell her arousal from where he stood.
“Is that right?” he asked, moving back over to the sink. He dropped the rag and gave his hands a quick rinse then moved to stand right behind the bar stool she was perched on. He braced his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her between him and the bar. He was surprised when she swiveled to face him.
Her eyes were heavy lidded when she managed to say, “You know it is.”
“Do I? Because, as tempting as you are right now, cupcake, I'm going to need the words. You don't get to wake up tomorrow and convince yourself that you didn't have a choice here. So, why don't you tell me, just what are you after?”
Chapter Six
Moira's breath caught in her throat. Every single heated glance and word between them had been leading up to this moment. Even though this was monumentally stupid, there was a part of her that didn't give a damn.
Her mouth was inches from his. Her voice was thick with desire when she said, “I've been wet and needy since you kissed me earlier. I want you to fuck me until the ache goes away. Is that wordy enough for you, Ronan?”
She watched as his searing gaze flared silver. He leaned in, his mouth against her ear, and murmured, “You've got no idea how much I'm gonna enjoy hearing that smart mouth of yours beg, Moira.”
She called on every bit of the bravado she could muster and replied, “We'll see.”
“I'm not one of those little college boys you're probably used to, sugar.”
She shrugged one delicate shoulder then said, “I'll never know for sure if you don't stop talking.”
Before she could even register his movements, he grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head back. “You'd do well to remember that I'm part wolf, sweetheart,” he ground out, his mouth hovering inches above hers.
“Maybe I wanna be gobbled up by the big, bad wolf,” she challenged, her heart pounding like a bass drum.
His lips took hers in a punishing kiss. The way that he gripped her hair and held her stationary against the onslaught of his tongue and teeth left her dizzy with need. It became clear that he wouldn't be satisfied simply with her acquiescence. He wanted her complete surrender.
Moira kissed him back with every bit of the pent-up frustration she felt. Her fingers curled into his biceps. When his lips had crushed down on hers a moment ago, she'd felt a sharp spike of fear. Despite the fact that he'd been so kind to her, he was right. Deep down, he was only half human. The other part of him was a predator, a hunter. She was in equal parts nervous and excited at the prospect of becoming his prey.
He scooped her up, his hands hiking up the miniskirt she wore. She wrapped her legs around his waist and continued to nip at his lips until she felt the press of the wall against her back.
“Hold on to me,” he ground out as he briefly released her. She heard the unmistakable sound of his fly being opened.
She clung to him, sucking at the salty skin of his neck. Her mind lost in a sexually charged haze, she bit down. He hissed as he rubbed the tip of his cock along her wet slit through her panties and groaned out, “Is this what aches, cupcake?”
“Yes,” Moira said, desperate to sink herself down on him.
He slid the soaked crotch of her panties to the side and said, “Tell me what you need, Moira.”
“You know what I need,” she moaned. “I need you to fuck me!”
Ronan continued to rub the head of his erection across her slippery flesh until she cried, “Please!” It no longer mattered if she begged or not. She had never needed another person inside her the way that she needed him.
He carried her the rest of the way to his office and set her down near the couch.
“Lose the panties,” he ordered, fiddling with his belt.
Her hands shook as she as she obeyed. She watched in a haze of need as he pushed his jeans down. She took in the sight of his throbbing cock, a new wave of lust jolting through her system. He was hung.
He settled on the couch and said, “Come here, Moira. Slide that tight little pussy down over my cock and take what you need.”
She watched in fascinated arousal as he stroked a fist up and down his throbbing erection. She'd never seen a cock that size before. He was gigantic. She wasn't even sure if he would fit inside her, but she was damned sure it was time to find out.
Her whole body buzzing with need, she crawled onto his lap and straddled him. Moira hiked up her skirt, reached down to guide him inside her, and sank down slowly on his thick length. They both groaned as he invaded her inch by inch.
“You're so big. I feel so full,” she gasped. Granted, she'd uttered those words once or twice before, but this was the first time she'd ever meant them.
His hands gripped her hips as he waited for her to move. “Fuck, cupcake. You're so tight. Too tight. Am I hurting you?”
Equal parts pleasure and pain rolled through her as her pussy rippled around him, adjusting to the invasion. “No, no. Your cock feels amazing. I just need a minute.”
Slowly, she lowered herself down until he groaned. “That's it. Take it all for me. Take it all.”
When she rolled her hips experimentally, he said, “Fuck. You feel so good clenching around my cock, Moira. This is the tightest pussy I've ever felt in my life.”
She moaned as his swollen cock dragged against what felt like every nerve ending in her body. The delicious friction as he stroked against her inner walls sent her senses reeling. She moaned his name, her nails digging into his shoulders.
In answer, he pushed her tank top and bra up haphazardly. His mouth captured one of her tight nipples, drawing it deeply into his mouth. She gasped when he dragged his teeth across the sensitive bit of flesh. The feelings his mouth evoked bordered on painful, but it only increased the building tension in her lower belly.
One of the hands that had been on her hip traveled up to cup the breast not currently in his mouth. He gave her other nipple a teasing pinch that had her writhing against him. “Yes,” she moaned as bolts of white-hot sensation ran through her body.
“That's right,” he said, his rough voice almost soothing. “Work that tight little pussy on my cock. Come for me, Moira. ”
His filthy words unlocked some secret place inside her. Something primal broke free. She cried out his name, shuddering against him as her hips worked against his. He continued to thrust up into her when she lost the rhythm. She dragged her nails down his back while wave after wave of unbearable pleasure tore through her. His hand slipped down between her thighs to rub two fingers roughly against her clit. Her whole body felt like a live wire. It was all too much. “Ronan, please,” she begged, shaking with release.
Easing his hand back, he grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto him. Seconds later, she felt the jerk of his cock inside her as he erupted. “Fuck, Moira,” he groaned out, his eyes closed as he savored his release.
She collapsed against him, smiling against his neck when she felt his arms wrap around her. “I don't think I've come so hard in my whole life,” she mumbled against his damp skin.
“Same goes.” Ronan pressed a line of soft kisses against her shoulder and reminded her, “I've got a bed upstairs, ya know.”
“That sounds really nice right about now,” she said, shifting off of his lap. It was strange that she immediately felt the loss of him inside her. Even in the frenzied passion, there was something so comforting about him. Then she felt an unmistakable wetness dripping down her thighs and realized, “Oh Christ. You didn't use a condom!”
Chapter Seven
Ronan looked down at his softening cock an
d winced. It hadn't even occurred to him. He'd never had sex without protection. “Fuck,” he cursed softly. “Shifters don't carry human diseases. Please tell me you're on birth control?”
“Yes,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I'm on birth control.”
Breathing his own sigh of relief, he said, “I'm sorry about that. I've never done that before. Ever.”
“Me either,” she admitted softly. “The second you got near me, my brain just shut off. Happened this morning, too.”
She looked so vulnerable sitting there that he pulled her back onto his lap and just held her. His mouth brushing the soft skin of her neck, he murmured, “My thinking hasn't exactly been clear where you were concerned.”
Moira relaxed against him and dryly asked, “You mean you don't invite strange women to stay in your apartment and work in your bar?”
He laughed and said, “You're a first for me, cupcake.”
“I'm honored then,” she replied sleepily.
He couldn't help but appreciate her sass. Ronan smacked her lightly on the ass and said, “C'mon. Let's get dressed and go upstairs.”
A few minutes later, they walked through the door of his apartment. There was an awkward silence in the air, so he asked, “I think I'm gonna grill up a burger. Want one?”
“Yeah. I'm starved. I can work on something to go with it, if you want?”
“That'd be great,” he said, moving toward the patio to fire up the grill.
By the time he went back inside to grab the burgers, Moira was already busy chopping something on the cutting board. When she set the knife down, he went and wrapped his arms around her waist. Dipping his head down, he breathed in her warm vanilla scent and pressed a kiss to her neck. He had never been so attracted to a woman's scent before.
“You smell nice,” he said, taking nips at her throat.
She laughed and asked, “Like that half a vodka tonic I'm wearing or the beer that someone spilled on my shoe?”
“A little bit,” he admitted, chuckling. “But mostly you smell like vanilla frosting.”
Moira leaned back into his chest, confusion clearly written on her face. She asked, “Frosting? I don't even think I own anything vanilla scented. Maybe a candle?”
“It's a shifter thing,” he explained. “Everyone has a scent. Some good, some bad. You can tell a lot about a person by their scent.”
“Like some kind of personality test?” she asked, picking the knife up again to chop.
He tilted his head and said, “Sorta, I guess. Things like evil, anger, and hate have particular scents. My wolf lets me know who to avoid.”
“Your wolf? Like a second personality? I'm not being rude. I just... You're the only person I've ever met that was a shifter.”
When he was silent, trying to think of a way to explain it, she set the knife down and said, “Or you can just tell me to stop being nosy. I'm sorry.”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze and said, “Shh. It's fine. I would expect you to be curious about what you're gettin' yourself into.”
“More like what's getting into me,” she joked, nudging him with her elbow.
It seemed so uncharacteristic that he had to laugh. “Classy, cupcake. How 'bout you work on that and I'll go grill some burgers. Then we'll see if I can't find something sweet for dessert,” he said suggestively, giving her neck another nip.
“Mmm. Sounds like a plan,” she sighed, leaning back against him.
****
By the time they were done with dinner, Moira looked exhausted. He cleaned up the kitchen while she showered. By the time she was done, he was wiped out, too. After a quick shower of his own, he found the lights off and Moira curled up in bed.
He tried to make as little noise as possible when he crawled into the bed beside her. She was facing away from him, but he could tell by the sound of her breathing that she was still awake. He wasn't sure whether or not she was trying to tell him that she didn't want to be touched, so he laid there for a moment. That was when he heard a soft sniffle. Something clenched in his gut and he reached for her.
He brought her back up against his chest and said, “Don't cry.” Naturally, his words only made her cry harder, so he did the only thing he could. He held her while she cried it out. He imagined whatever had gone down with her father had finally hit her. She hadn't given him much detail, but any world in which you were introduced to someone and then told you were going to marry them wasn't exactly a fair one.
Eventually, she rubbed the tears from her cheeks and said, “Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just fall apart on you. I'm fine now. Get some sleep.”
He snorted. “Not likely, cupcake. Talk to me.”
She gave a shuddering sigh and said, “My life is a mess. I'm gonna have to quit school. I was only five classes away from my degree. Now I'm relying entirely on you because I have no other choice unless I want to marry some old guy my father picked out.”
“Some things have to change,” he reasoned. “Not everything, though. What's your degree in?”
“Business Management,” she said, sniffling again.
“The community college in Sanders has a bachelors program in that. It's where I got my own degree, sweetheart. It's no University of Florida, but it's not that bad. Transfer there and finish up your courses. It may take a bit longer if you're working, but it's still accredited.”
“I won't even ask how you knew I went to UF. And I didn't even realize community colleges even had bachelors programs,” she responded quietly.
“It was a wild guess,” he said. Then he added, “Some do. Not a ton of programs. A couple, though. I think they had interior design, too, or some shit like that.”
He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “I think I'll take a pass.”
“I was really torn,” he teased. “You can see by my choice of color palettes in here that I really have a knack for interior design.”
“Oh yeah. That futon is very post-modern Spanish Inquisition.”
“You totally get the vibe I was going for. Good eye,” he joked.
After a couple of minutes of silence, she finally spoke again. “I feel a little weird about this arrangement between us,” she confessed, stiffening against him.
“Would you prefer that I didn't touch you,” he asked, releasing her. Every fiber of his being seemed to reject the idea. Surprisingly, he even felt the disgruntled stirrings of his wolf.
“No,” she exclaimed. “It's not that. I… I like you. Genuinely. I just feel like I'm kind of using you and I hate it.”
“I hate bullies. I understand your situation more than you can imagine,” he confessed. “I would have helped you even if I hadn't been attracted to you.”
“But, why?” she asked.
“I was the first son of a first son. That might not mean much to you, but to a wolf, that means that your life is mapped out for you from the time you're born until you die. Every pack, which is like a family, has an alpha. The alpha is the leader, the decision maker, and the final word in all things. It's a powerful position. And, it was supposed to be mine.”
“You walked away from that?”
“Damn right, I did. While my brothers and sisters got to be children and run wild, I was constantly being tutored and trained. I needed to know how to lead, how to fight. Duty and honor were drilled into me from the time I learned to speak until I finally ran away and joined the Army. My life was all planned out for me. I'd finish high school, go to agricultural college, then take over my father's farm and the pack when the time came. I'd be mated to another purebred first daughter of a first daughter to create a strong alliance between two packs. We would pop out cubs until we managed to have an heir and a spare. Then my son would do the same thing that I did. The idea that I never had a choice as to who I was going to be or what I was going to do with my life didn't sit well. So I changed it.”
“Jesus. That sounds medieval,” she whispered. “I can see why you left.”
“I joined the Arm
y on my eighteenth birthday, and went home to talk to my parents. I'd tried to talk to my father before, but he's a stubborn bastard. We got into a fist fight and then I was forsaken, which is the equivalent of being disowned. My mom shoved a few hundred dollars into my hand as he kicked me out. I think she knew it was coming. That's the last time I spoke to any of them.”
“I'm so sorry,” she said, rolling over to face him.
He could see the tears in her eyes. He shook his head and wiped her face. “Don't cry for me, sweetheart. I did what I had to do. Just like you did.”
“I got home from summer session on Tuesday. The second I walked in the door, my father told me that I needed to put on something pretty and then meet him in his study. I figured we were going out to dinner or something, so I put on a dress and got ready. When I got there, my dad introduced me to Ben Mason. At first I thought he was just another lackey, then I recognized him.”
“Why do I know that name?” Ronan interrupted, frowning.
“You've seen his campaign posters, I'm sure. Silver hair, orange spray tan. He's in the state senate. Well, he's planning to run for governor soon, apparently. So we all sit down and my father tells me that he's going to announce my engagement to Ben. I told him he was fucking crazy if he thought I was marrying someone I just met.”
“I can imagine that went over well,” Ronan said, stroking a hand over her hair.
“My father freaked out. He slapped me. Called me ungrateful. Then Ben had the good grace to excuse himself.”
Ronan tensed, trying to hold the wolf inside him at bay. The animal side of him would be happy tearing her father apart. He couldn't contain the snarl that rose inside him.
“Ronan?” Moira asked, her voice wobbly.
Immediately, his wolf silenced. He looked down at her wide, terrified eyes and said, “Christ. I'm so sorry, Moira. I didn't mean to scare you.”
“What happened?”
“My wolf didn't react well to the news that he hit you. The rest of me didn't either. My father used to hit my mom. It kind of took me back. And, the thought of you...” He shook his head and repeated, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”
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