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I actually have. The fact that the Italian guy tonight asked me for a lap dance when he was sitting at the table right next to Ronan tells me that. A small shiver works its way up my spine. Ronan notices because, of course, he does.
“I’m not moving into your condo,” I snap at him
The corners of his mouth tug up into the barest smirk. “Well, Liam has a spare room at his. But I’ve a feeling being his roommate wouldn’t be a relaxing experience.”
“I’m sure I’d get along with Liam just fine,” I snap at him, sick of his fucking smugness. “We’re both broken things!”
“I’m sure ye would get along with Liam,” he replies like he didn’t even hear the second half of my statement. “But I’m not sure how ye’d go with all his nocturnal visitors.”
Oh, gross. Yeah, no thanks. “It looks like I’ll be staying here in Roxbury.
Ronan doesn’t like that one little bit. When he pulls up outside my building, he glares at it like it has personally offended him. Reaching over, he plucks my pocketbook from between my hands.
“Hey!” I protest, but he ignores me, rifling through it until he finds my phone. Pulling it out, he programs a number in.
“Ye call me the second ye feel unsafe,leannán,” he says, dropping the phone back into the bag and handing it to me.
When I take it, his hand closes around my wrist, tugging me until I’m leaning over the center console, his mouth closing on mine, kissing me hard. Possessively.
“So fecking sweet,” he murmurs into my mouth, reluctantly pulling away. He doesn’t drive off until I’m inside the building and climbing the stairs. Overprotective ass.
Chapter Nine
FIONA
Kneeling in front of my shower, scrubbing at the grouting between the tiles, I can still feel Ronan’s mouth on my clit, and his finger in me.
I slept so badly last night. It didn’t help that I had an incredibly realistic dream that we were having sex. So realistic that I was not only disorientated when I woke up and realized it was a dream but also a little disappointed.
That feeling shocked me. I thought I would guard my virginity jealously for a long time yet, but here I am, a little bit sad that I hadn’t already lost it to Ronan.
Even after I’ve spent all morning scrubbing every inch of my tiny flat until it shines, I still can’t shake the feeling. And I can still feel the ghost of his finger and mouth every time I think about last night, which has me squirming and my body clenching.
Thank god I’m not dancing tonight. It would feel like I was cheating, being up there, shaking my shit for other men while feeling like this about Ronan.
I’m not dancing because Tiggy and Seamus are christening Cillian at one o’clock and having an afternoon tea event at their house in West Roxbury.
Because my breath flutters every time I think about him, and I know Ronan will be there, I’m puttingwaymore care into my hair, makeup, and outfit than I would for a Catholic Christening service.
Luckily, Tiggy is pretty generous with dresses she doesn’t feel like wearing anymore. So I’m dressed in a pretty, floral dress with short, capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, fitted at the bodice and floating to my knees. I pair it with cute wedges and carefully pin up my hair.
Satisfied with my look, I fetch my purse and phone, don my nicest coat, and head downstairs. A bus that runs to the church in West Roxbury has a stop not too far away from my building.
Stepping out of my building, I blink in surprise when I recognize the SUV sitting at the curb. Shit. I thought I would have more time to compose myself.
Fighting the urge to squirm, I cross to it, taking a deep breath and climbing in. Ronan watches me with his inscrutable, heated eyes as I buckle in, reaching over to take my hand.
As he pulls away from the curb, he runs his thumb over my knuckles, and I have to press my thighs together as heat pools there.
“Ye look lovely,leannán,” he murmurs, his voice husky, and my breath catches.
He looks practicallyedible. He’s wearing an actual suit, with a sky blue shirt underneath it and no tie. Normally, Ronan wears jeans, boots, T-shirts, and a worn leather jacket. I thought he looked delicious in his usual clothes. They have nothing on this look.
“Thank you,” I whisper back, clutching him as his fingers tighten on my hand.
It’s not a long drive, but I savor every moment, clinging to his hand. He only lets go to park in the parking lot beside the church. My breath catches as he lifts me from the SUV, sliding me down his front as he sets me down. His breath hitches in response, and his hand flexes as he shuts the door.
As we set into the church, I shed my coat, and Ronan takes it, hanging it over his arm with his leather jacket. He guides me along the aisle with his hand resting lightly on my lower back. I have to keep reminding myself not to shiver as his fingers lightly stroke through the flimsy material of my dress.
