RONAN (The Wolf Hotel)

“She lives!” Connor exclaims as I emerge from my room around eight on Saturday night, my stomach growling with hunger. He and Ronan are lazing on the couch, watching a basketball game. “What have you been doing all day?”

“The same thing I do every Saturday. My assignments. Studying.” I stroll toward the fridge, stealing a lightning-fast glance at Ronan.

A wave of excitement courses through me.

“How many more years of school do you have, anyway?” Connor caps the question off with a belch.

“Just one.” If I can concentrate enough to pass my exams. It’s been a struggle, staring at my textbooks and notes all day while my ears remain open, listening for any sound that might indicate Ronan’s going to pay me another visit. They were out late last night again, and when they stumbled through the door, Ronan was alone again. He went straight to bed, while I lay in bed for a good hour, listening, thinking that maybe he was waiting for me, that maybe I should go over there. Finally, I drifted off.

“Hey, would you be a sweet, kind sister and bring over some beers for us?”

“It’s not fair,” I mutter, pulling two off the top shelf. If I ate and drank like they did, I’d balloon. Keeping my expression smooth, I wander over to the couch, handing Connor’s beer to him first, then one to Ronan.

Ronan’s fingers graze mine in the exchange.

“Hey.” Connor frowns up at me. “You look different.”

“That’s because you’re drunk.”

“No… are you wearing makeup?”

“So what?” I turn my back to him, wanting to hide the flush in my cheeks. I went to Ulta today to pick up my face moisturizer, and I was waylaid by a saleswoman who asked if she could try out a new mascara on my lashes. Normally I pass, but she was so stunningly beautiful and she said she was wearing that very mascara, that I wanted to see what it could do for me.

I bought the mascara, along with the gold eye shadow she swiped across my lids.

“So, you never wear makeup.”

“Not never.” Just hardly ever.

“Well, definitely not when you’re sitting in your room all day, studying.”

“Whatever. It’s no big deal. Drop it.”

But he’s not relenting. “You trying to look good for Ronan?”

“Why would I want to do that?” I force scorn into my voice while my cheeks burn. This is humiliating.

“Leave her alone,” Ronan murmurs. “You’re just going to make her angry, and she’ll take it out on me.”

“Fair enough. Hey, we’re having a farewell party here next Friday night.”

I groan. I was dreading this. I can’t say much because this is Connor’s condo and he lets me live here for next to nothing in rent.

“It’ll be fine.”

“The cops showed up last time!”

“We’ll keep it under control.”

“I had to buy all new bedding!”

“That guy is not invited back. I promise.”

“And who’s going to clean up if you two are gone the next day?”

“Maria from the first floor. We’ll get rid of all the trash and empties, and leave cash for her.”

“Don’t you just have all the answers.” I just shake my head. “I want a lock on my door.”

Connor’s phone chirps with a text. He dismisses my request with a “Fine” as he reads his message. “Hey, Sherrie and Georgia are going to Sin tonight. You wanna go? VIP table again.”

“No thanks.”

“What? They were smoking hot!” From the corner of my eye, I watch Ronan take a long sip of his beer.

“Been there, done that.”

“What’s wrong with you? You turned down that blonde last night. Now you’re saying no to these two. Is your dick not working or are you getting something somewhere that I don’t know about?”

Please be too dense to figure it out, dear idiot brother.

I stick my head in the fridge, afraid Connor will see the answer in my face.

Or that he’ll see my stupid grin of satisfaction, hearing that Ronan isn’t picking up other girls.

Thankfully, Connor’s phone rings, distracting him. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs. “Hey, Mom… Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been busy… You know, same old. Next Saturday… Yeah, it should be a blast.”

I take the opportunity to glance over, to catch Ronan’s eyes on my ass. He lifts his gaze to meet mine, to see my quirked brow, the one that says I’ve caught him.

With a sexy, crooked smile, he subtly nods toward our rooms. Easing off the couch, he saunters down the hall, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Five months… Sorry, I don’t think I can make it.” Connor’s mom is no doubt asking him to visit her in Orlando. “Yeah, she’s here. Studying. Always studying. Broke up with the douche bag.”

I roll my eyes but throw a wave Connor’s way.

“She says hi.”

With nervous flutters in the pit of my stomach, I collect my container of veggies and hummus and my water and head toward my room. I get as far as the bathroom when the door opens. Ronan reaches out and, grabbing hold of my wrist, pulls me in.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

He takes my dishes and sets them on the vanity. “How long do you think he’ll be occupied?”

“A while. Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty?” Connor’s mom, Danielle, loves to talk. They’ll be on for a while.

“That should be enough time,” he murmurs.

“We can’t. Connor’s right there.” Even as I deny him, my hands smooth over his chest, the soft cotton of his T-shirt hugging his curves deliciously. It’s the first chance I’ve had to touch him so freely like this.

His fist curls around my ponytail and he begins to pull, tilting my head back until I can see his face. “Then you shouldn’t have stuck your ass in the air like that, wearing these.” His molten green eyes settle on my mouth as a finger pinches at my leggings, stretching them.

I so badly want him to kiss me.

He leans forward, and I think he’s going to grant my wish. But he veers at the last minute, the heat of his breath skating over my cheek. His lips settle on my neck. “I need to come, Ryan,” he whispers, the tip of his tongue dancing over my skin, sending shivers all the way to my nipples. “I need you to make me come right now.”

I hear the “Okay,” slip from my mouth, unbidden.

He leads me back three steps until the backs of my legs hit the toilet and I’m forced to a sitting position. His rough hands are so gentle, grazing the underside of my chin, the soft pad of his thumb smoothing over my bottom lip. Then his thumb is sliding in and I find myself sucking it involuntarily.

With his free hand he tugs his track pants down, and his hard length springs free.

It’s another first for me, the chance to grip him in my hand, to revel in the feel of his smooth, soft skin against my palm.

I shake my head.

“What?”

“It’s just… we seem to be running around the bases in the wrong direction.”

He groans softly, his head tipping back as I run my thumb over his tip. “I don’t care which direction we’re running in, as long as it ends with me coming in your mouth.”

I hesitate. “Why didn’t you bring someone home last night?”

“Did you want me to?”

“No.” Is that wrong to admit?

“Well then….”

“Well then, what?”

“Well then, suck my dick, Ryan.” His hand slips from my jaw around to the back of my head. He pulls me forward.

I resist, even though desire is burning hot between my legs. “Say please.”

His brow arches. “Please take my dick in that vicious mouth of yours, Ryan.”

I oblige, running my tongue along the underside of him slowly. When I glance up, he’s staring down at me with a hard look.

I part my lips. An invitation.

He takes it, sliding into my mouth. I close over him, molding around his shape.

Connor’s voice carries from somewhere in the living room and it must be bothering Ronan, because he flips the switch for the fan, drowning it out.

I’ve never really liked giving head, but for some reason it’s different with Ronan. Maybe because our relationship is purely physical, and he turns me on like no other guy I’ve ever been with. I want him to enjoy this as much as I enjoyed him going down on me yesterday. So I do my best, pushing myself to take him in as deep as I can, until I’m forced to relent or start gagging. He seems to appreciate it, smoothing loose strands of hair off my forehead gently, whispering words of encouragement sweetly, his hand controlling the tempo. When it starts to speed up, when his breathing starts growing ragged, I know he’s close.

“That’s it, Ryan.” His hips start thrusting into my mouth and he suddenly swells even more. He hasn’t stopped watching. “Almost there….” His hand closes tight over my hair, until it’s almost hurting.

And then his seed begins squirting in warm, salty waves, hitting the back of my tongue. His lips are parted as he orgasms into my mouth, but aside from one low grunt, he manages to stay quiet.

He spends a long moment simply standing there, his breathing heavy, his hooded eyes settled on my face, his fingers stroking my hair. “Thank you,” he whispers, and takes a step back, tucking himself back into his pants. Hitting the fan switch, he pauses to listen.

All I hear is the buzz of the voices on the TV. It sounds like Connor’s off the phone.

“See you later,” Ronan murmurs with a smile, stealing a carrot and ducking out.

I take a moment to glance at myself in the mirror—at my puffy lips, at my mussed hair, at the smears of black mascara around my eyes—and then I brush my teeth, grab my containers of food, and quietly sneak out to my room.

~ ~ ~ ~

It’s almost two in the morning when I hear commotion in the living room and female laughter. Plural female laughter.

I grit my teeth against the realization that Ronan’s courtesy has run out.

He’s brought someone home.

Disappointment overwhelms me. It’s followed closely by anger, at Ronan, but mostly at myself for thinking this would work. I’m just not programmed for casual sex. I can’t do it, even with a guy I have no interest in hanging out with if we’re not having sex.

Tears prick my eyes as I lie in the dark, listening to the creak of the floor in the hallway, his door opening.

Waiting for the inevitable.

Waiting for it to begin.

My heart skips when my bedroom door creaks open. For a split second I think it’s another directionally challenged naked drunk girl, but the brief stream of light allows me a glimpse of a naked Ronan instead.

He shuts the door behind him. A moment later, the sheets shift and pull, and then he’s lying down beside me, heat radiating off his body. “I know you’re awake,” he whispers, the sound of his voice stirring my blood. His breath—a mixture of toothpaste and a sweet liquor and tobacco—skates overs my face.

“How?”

His hand slides between my legs, his fingers slipping under my panties. “Because you’ve been lying in bed for hours, wondering what I’m doing at the bar, waiting for me to come home.” His finger draws along my slit. “Thinking about me.”

I have been doing that.

But now I shove his hand away. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”

“What?” I can hear the frown in his voice even if I can’t see it.

“I heard more than one woman come in, Ronan.”

“You’re right, you did. There are two. And they’re with your brother.”

“Both of them?”

I sense his smile. “Both of them.”

“Oh.” Relief overwhelms me even as I try to block that visual out.

Ronan’s hand slips back, this time peeling my panties down past my knees. I lift my legs until they fall to my ankles and I can shake them off. “You thought I’d bring someone else home while we’re doing this?”

“Well, yeah. We made no commitments and you said only the one night.”

“You’re right, I did.”

“What changed?”

There’s a long pause as if he’s gathering his words. “I don’t enjoy the girls I pick up at the bar.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I heard how much you enjoyed that girl, remember?”

His breath skates over my cheek. “I enjoyed the part where I came. But it didn’t make me feel better about Tasha leaving me. But you feel different. You don’t feel so pointless and impersonal. Even if we have nothing in common and this is just for now, I feel better when I’m with you. Is that wrong?”

“No. It’s not. You’re still in love with someone else.” My heart pangs in my chest with a rare glimpse at Ronan’s pain. “And here I thought you were just another cocky asshole taking advantage of a vulnerable girl,” I tease.

“I am a cocky asshole. But I’m not a complete dick. While we’re messing around, I won’t be with anyone else. That’s the only commitment I can make. If that’s good enough for you.” A soft gasp slips from my lips as his fingers slide inside me.

“Actually, there’s one other thing I want from you.”

“What’s that?” he asks curiously.

I reach up to touch his stubbled cheek and run my thumb over his bottom lip. I’m torn between wanting to see his face and enjoying the liberty that comes with complete darkness. But there’s one thing I know I want. “Kiss me.”

“Ryan….” I sense him searching for a way to deny me.

“Please?”

After a long moment, he leans in and presses his mouth against mine. His lips are softer than I imagined, and he kisses me in a sweet, sensual way that I hadn’t expected from him.

“Like that?”

“Exactly like that.” A sigh escapes my lips, and he slides his tongue along the seam. I open wider, my tongue reaching for his, needing it against mine, needing to taste his mouth. He obliges, pressing in deeper, his hand down below stalled, as if his undivided attention is now on kissing me. I want his lips on me all night long.

“Finally. First base,” I murmur.

His lips stretch against mine in a smile, and then his mouth is shifting south, along my jawline, my throat, the heat from his wet lips thrilling. He tugs at the spaghetti strap of my nightie. “This is different.”

“Easier to remove.” And a lot sexier than the T-shirts I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping in.

He tugs at the top, uncovering my breast for his waiting mouth. I moan as he pulls my nipple into his mouth and begins to suck. How is he so good at everything he does?

My legs stretch apart without thought, opening up for him, a deep ache growing between them that he works to satisfy, stretching me with first two, then three fingers as I roll my hips against his hand, all while I grip the back of his head, holding him against my breast.

I’m writhing under Ronan’s touch, moments away from coming, when heavy footfalls sound in the hallway.

There’s a knock and then, a moment later, Ronan’s bedroom door creaks open. “Hey, bro. I need your help with these two. I’m way too drunk to handle them both.” A pause. “Ronan?” Connor slaps the wall. He’s turning the light on, no doubt.

“Shit,” Ronan hisses against me, pulling away.

Shit is right. Connor may be dense sometimes, but even he will put two and two together now. If he does, will that be the end of this?

Scrambling out of my bed, I adjust my nightgown and then open the door a crack. And quickly avert my gaze. “What the fuck, Connor!” He’s naked.

“Sorry! I didn’t think you’d be up.”

He didn’t think, period. I keep my eyes on his face. “Of course I’m up, when you’re yelling outside my door.”

He points to Ronan’s room. “Where is he?”

“How the hell should I know? I heard his door open a few minutes ago, so I guess he went somewhere. I can’t keep up with all the whoring going on around here. Yours included.”

Connor furrows his brow. “I’ll bet he hooked up with Vera. She was all over him in the elevator the other day, wanting him to come and fix something.”

Vera—a thirty-five-year-old divorcee with enormous breasts who wears skintight gym clothes and too much bright pink lipstick twenty-four seven. Connor slept with her about a year ago. “Good for him. Now go back to your room and let me sleep.” I slam the door for effect.

A moment later, I hear Connor’s footfalls against the hardwood as he leaves.

Ronan groans. “That was close.”

I push the straps of my nightshirt down, letting the thin cotton fall to the floor. Then I climb into bed. “Do you think he’s actually mad at you?” I fumble in the dark until I feel his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips again.

“It’s hard to tell with him. I know I’d kill him if he got into my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yeah. Younger one.”

I didn’t know that. Of course I didn’t. I know nothing about this guy I’m living next to and sleeping with. And that’s how I want it, I remind myself.

I reach out, tracing his stomach muscles. “Well, I don’t think he’d have a right to be. He practically forced you on me by letting you move in. What did he think would happen?”

Ronan shifts, rolling on top of me, positioning his hips between my legs. “That you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, obviously.”

With crisis averted, my thoughts turn to something else. “So, do I want to know what he meant by ‘helping’ him?”

His lips trail over my jawline. “Probably not.”

“Do I want to know the kinds of things you’ve done?”

“Probably not.”

He’s right. Because I’ve heard a couple stories at work—one including my brother and another crew guy named Jake sharing a girl—that have dropped my jaw.

And I’m not with Ronan for anything but the very thing he’s giving me right now, and knowing that is somehow so liberating. There’s no pull on my heartstrings, no desire to stay up until the morning learning everything there is to know about him, no wondering if this will last. I know exactly how long it’ll last—for one more week. And then he’ll go to Alaska and try to fill this void in his heart by screwing who knows how many women and I’ll get back to my life. Hopefully feeling a little better about myself, after having had a guy this attractive in my bed. He makes me feel better about myself after what happened with David.

And that’s what this is all about—me, helping myself move on after a horrible breakup.

I hear the foil wrapper tear and the snap of the latex as Ronan sheaths himself. “You’re always careful though, right?”

Collecting my hands in his, he pins my arms above my head, pressing his whole body against mine. I revel in the feel of it. “Always.” He traces my jawline with kisses, all the way to my lips, whispering, “I’m completely yours for the week, Ryan. Use me.”

I angle my hips upward. “Gladly.”

With our fingers entwined, he lines himself up and begins pushing into me.

I close my eyes as the first moan slips out.