Page 59 of Naughty Irish Liar

CHAPTER 17

Catie

Ronan MacNamara, the man who seemed to repel affection was holding me tightly when I woke up. Both arms securely wrapped around me.

And it wasn’t as strange as one would assume it would be.

We’d shared a bed countless times in the last few weeks, but we’d never been this close. Ronan choosing to sleep on his belly most often, so we couldn’t spoon.

This was … glorious.

And I would have enjoyed it a whole lot more if I wasn’t a sweaty, ugly mess.

Trying to untangle myself from him became impossible because the more I wriggled, the tighter he held me. “Shh, baby. Go back to sleep. I have you.”

Oh my god, what?

My greedy-heart fell over itself at his sweet words. And when he kissed my forehead I whimpered.

“Ronan?”

“You’re awake? How do you feel?”

Amazing. Cloud nine kind of happy. Dizzy with euphoria. “I’m okay,” I croaked, unsure how my body actually felt because it was my heart steering the ship. Adding. “What are you doing here?”

“You were sick.”

“I know. But I don’t understand why you’re here, holding me.”

He sighed. A really hard noise and I lifted my head to look at two blue orbs. “I know I’m a bastard, Catherine, but you couldn’t call me when you’re sick?”

I realized what his frown meant. He was upset at me and I absorbed every addictive second while it lasted because after a few moments he reached out and brushed hair from my forehead, reminding me of my former sweaty ugly mess status.

This time I did manage to extract myself from him, immediately missing his body and arms.

“I need a shower,” I said over my shoulder, not waiting a second before I closed myself in the bathroom. My mirror image was a sight, pale skin, hair everywhere like I’d rolled around in bushes all night.

I quickly stripped and stepped into the shower stall where I lathered up until I at least smelled fresh again.

A surprise waited outside the shower. Ronan holding a towel. My eyes rounded as I hesitated. “I’ve seen you before,acushla. I’ve licked every part of you. Step out.” He said, holding the towel. He wouldn’t let me take it from him, instead he wrapped it around my boobs and tucked it in tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t feel well yesterday?”

From the question marks hovering above his head he really appeared to be confused why I’d kept our relationship as it were to the specifications he himself set out.

I smiled, though I still didn’t feel one hundred percent, whatever bug I’d caught was on the way out of my body. I rubbed a second towel over my hair and told him. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Goddammit, Catherine. Are you serious?”

The live wire connection was no less present when I lifted the towel from over my head to look at him, perplexed.

“Why are you pissed off? It should be me. We’ve missed a whole day of sex when we only have three days left as it is.”

Besides a little teasing I haven’t played any games with him the whole time we’ve been intimate. I thought I’d been honest with him as much as I could.

Calling his bluff, none withstanding because I think we both realized putting a time limit on how great we were together was idiotic.

Could he walk away from something that good? We’d know in a few days.

“I should get an extra day to make up for it,” I said, looking at him through wet lashes. His face was still stone glaring at me. “Are you really mad or is this a prelude to ‘angry sex’,” I asked finger quoting.

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