“Yeah, soon, but first I want to dance with you,” I replied, leading her to the busy dance floor. The DJ started playing “Nightcall,” and the heavy electronic beat sank into my bones. I brought my arms around Annie’s waist and pulled her close, moving our bodies to the hypnotic song. I stared down at her the entire time, admiring how her lashes cast a dark shadow over her cheekbones. She refused to look at me, instead keeping her gaze fixed firmly in the vicinity of my neck. Frustrated, I brought my hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks, tilting her head so that she’d finally give me her eyes. Her skin felt warm and soft beneath my sport-roughened palms.
Our hips began to move in unison—a slow, sensual rhythm—and now that our gazes were locked, it felt like neither one of us could look away. I stared deep into her eyes, and even though we were surrounded by dozens of strangers, it felt more intimate somehow than if I were inside her. I felt like I was trying to see right into her soul. Right then I knew that this woman had the power to destroy me. It was a frightening prospect. She was way, way deep under my skin. I could hardly fathom what adding sex to the equation would bring, especially if she was open to doing things my way.
“I feel like I could lose myself and find myself in you, Annie,” I murmured close to her ear.
She swallowed. “Don’t say things like that.”
“I can’t help it. Believe me, I’ve tried. You make me feel everything.”
Her body seemed to sink further into mine at that moment, and before I knew it, I was leading her upstairs to the private section the barwoman had recommended. A man in a suit led us to a little half-crescent alcove with plush, expensive-looking seating. Annie made a move to sit down, but I pulled her arm and twirled her so she fell onto my lap. I knew that fourth glass of wine was taking its toll when, instead of protesting, she let out a little giggle. God, she was so fucking sexy. Frenzied, I fisted her long, silky hair in my hand, yanked gently, and then brought my mouth over hers. I heard a small muffled moan as she strained to get closer, her breasts pushing into my chest deliciously.
Letting go of her hair, I grabbed her hips and lifted her so that she was straddling me. It was such a small movement, but it made all the difference. I knew Annie could feel it, too, when she sighed my name.
“Ronan….”
“Can you feel me, love?” I asked darkly, trailing my mouth down her neck, across her collarbone, and over her lush cleavage. I dragged my lips over the tops of her breasts and felt her quivering. Using one hand, I gripped her neck and could feel her pulse fluttering against my fingertips.
“Yeah,” she finally answered, all breathy. “I need more.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. I suddenly appreciated that the skirt of her dress was long and flared rather than close-fitting because it meant I could slide my hand under without it really looking like we were doing more than kissing. Slowly, I ran my palm up her silky thigh before slipping it between her legs and cupping her over her lacy underwear. I didn’t think I’d ever been this turned on in my life. Every little sound she made, every movement, made me feel like I might come without her even needing to touch me.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, seeking my lips eagerly. I sank my tongue into her mouth at the same moment I slid my hand under the lace and felt her for the first time. Fuck, she was wet. She was getting loud now; but the music in the club was blaring, so I was the only one who could hear her. There was something exciting about that, about the fact that one of the workers could come by and discover what we were doing at any moment. I think Annie felt that excitement, too, because her skin was damp and had goosebumps where I was still holding tightly onto her neck. That was the sign that I was the one in control, the one leading her, even though she was on top.
I sank two fingers inside her and felt her pulse all around me. Jesus, I didn’t think I’d last much longer. Groaning, I sought her clit with my thumb, rubbing circles while my fingers moved in a rhythm inside her. She was lost to me then, and I was lost to her. She owned me, and she didn’t have a clue. I broke our kiss because I wanted to see her when she came. I knew she was close because her entire body felt like a coiled spring. Leaning back against the seat, I stared up at her, my hand still working beneath her dress.
Her long hair hung to the side of her face, her lips plump from kissing and her cheeks pink. Her chest rose and fell, making me wish we weren’t in public so I could strip her bare. My body was covered in a layer of perspiration, I was so worked up, and then she came with a sharp, keening cry and tremors that lasted and lasted. She collapsed into my arms, and I was completely done for. Her face was in my neck, mouth planting kisses and murmuring indistinct words.
“That’s it, Annie, that’s it,” I said, my fingers still inside her. I caressed her cheek with my other hand and whispered in her ear. “Come home with me.”
“I shouldn’t….”
“But you want to. For once in your life, let yourself have what you want.”
She looked at me then, biting on her bottom lip, and replied with that sweet little word, “Okay.”
The entire taxi ride to my building, I kissed her. I could have kissed her for hours. You know, those lazy afternoon sessions on the couch when just kissing is enough? Well, I could have done that every day with Annie and never tired of it.
In the lift up to the penthouse, my hands were all over her, in her hair, squeezing her arse, molding her breasts. Hers were all over me, too. She was finally letting go of her inhibitions. When she pressed her hand against my cock, I wanted to bite her, it felt so good. I kissed her so fiercely her lips were probably going to be sore in the morning.
In my mind, I searched through my memory of what I had in the penthouse. I hadn’t brought very much with me, but there had to be something I could use to tie her up. Then I remembered the welcome basket that had been there for me when I arrived. It had silky red ribbon wrapped all around it. It wouldn’t be great, but it would do for now.
Managing to slot my key in the door and still keep my mouth on hers, I pushed it open and pulled her inside, slamming her back against the wall and lifting her leg so that I could press my hard-on into her core. I heard somebody clear their throat just before a voice I recognized well said, “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but yeah, this is awkward.”
Annie gasped in surprise, and I sagged against her.
Fucking. Hell.
I sighed, my hands fisting in frustration, and clenched my jaw.
“Lucy,” I muttered under my breath. I took a moment to gather myself before I straightened and turned around to see my sister grinning and my mother wearing a small frown.
Sighing, I squeezed Annie’s shoulder and with no small amount of reluctance said, “I guess this is the perfect time for you to meet my family.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Fake Selfie: When one pretends to be taking a picture of oneself, but is instead actually taking a picture of a person in the background. This method differs from the “Creeper Selfie” in that none of the photographer’s face or expression is present in the picture.
Best for: Situations where taking a selfie wouldn’t be unusual/draw attention, e.g. while alone at a tourist attraction or during a sporting event/concert.
Do not use: In restaurants or near mirrors.
Annie
It was a banner week for me, a real doozy, a landmark of atypical Annie-isms.
First, I’d opened up to Ronan about my past, and, as much as I was able, I’d admitted to having feelings for him. I trusted him, or at least I was starting to.
Then I flirted with him via email; granted, it was as The Socialmedialite, and the lewd references all involved my fictional mermaid tattoo.
Of course, I couldn’t neglect to mention the sexting—or as close as I’d ever come to sexting—on Friday that got me so hot I’d had to go to the bathroom and run cool water over my wrists and place a wet paper towel on my neck.