Page 102 of Small Town Firsts
“Don’t get pissy with me, Vi—Ronan.” I swallowed down the nickname. If we were going to keep it professional, that wasn’t going to help us.
His eyes flared as he straightened. “See that shelf right there?”
A small part of me was afraid to look away from him. He seemed restless and watchful in a way that made the hairs onthe back of my neck stand up. Like something was shifting behind the mask he’d been wearing. Finally, I glanced over at the rows and rows of hard cider bottles. Local brewing companies, national brands, even some international—all looked as if they’d either been fully consumed or discarded. “Looks intense.”
“It’s really hard to be original when nearly everything has been done before.”
“You don’t have to be original, you just have to be you. Not some knockoff. The creative genius we hired, remember? The one you boasted you were the first day I met you?”
He came around the work bench toward me. “Yeah, well my genius seems to have left the building.”
“Or you’ve been too wound up in—” What the hell was wrong with me?
“Wound up?” He crowded into me. “You mean thinking about your silky, golden skin every goddamn night? Yeah, I’d say that was a problem.”
I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. “Yeah? Couldn’t prove it by me. All smiles and, ‘can I help you with that? Let me get that.’”
He lowered his head until our noses brushed. “You could have come to me, too. Let me know you gave a shit.”
I fisted my hands at my sides so I didn’t grab him. God, how I wanted to grab him and drag him in. I was here for a purpose, but the ginger scent of him made my head spin.
He moved a little closer, until his lips barely whispered across mine. “So stubborn. Think you have to do this all alone. Be Wonder Woman. Won’t let me in even though I know you crave me as much as I crave you.”
I swayed closer to him, my nipples tingled and tightened as they brushed the hard planes of his chest. I stared at his mouth as I sunk my teeth into my lower lip to stop myself.
“Even with me right here, you won’t give in.”
My gaze snapped up to his. “It’s not some game. This place is important, my job is important.”
“It’s not a fucking game, Kira. How I feel about you.” He cupped the back of my head, his fingers spearing into my tangled hair. “How much I want you—dream about you.” He hauled me in close until I could feel how hard he was. “I wake up so hard I can barely think.” He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hot across my lips. “Remembering how you taste. The sounds you made for me. How you rode my face.”
“Ronan.” His name was a plea. I wanted to let him take over the deciding. To just make me forget about the worries and fears. When he took over, I could just be.
“Leaving your scent on my skin, in my beard, in my head.”
My skin flushed along my neck and chest. He never held back telling me how he wanted me. It was as overwhelming as it was thrilling for anyone to want me like that—but this man. God, he consumed the doubts for a moment.
I lifted my hand to his face, cupping his scruffy cheek. I closed my eyes and breathed in his heat and the apples on his breath. Sharp and tart enough to lure me in to taste.
I flicked my tongue along his lower lip, then slipped inside with a groan. The memories of us together crashed into the current moment. Hazy pleasure bubbled up like the carbonation of his hard cider and made me want more.
He held back, didn’t let me in closer for more.
“Ronan,” I said with a plea. “Viking.” I changed it up, hoping to help convince him without words. They were stuffed inside me behind a wall.
“We aren’t a game. Not to me.” He twisted his fingers in the beltloops of my shorts at the small of my back. “Real. So real, I can’t breathe around it sometimes. Like an undertow, dragging me back under.”
“Why would you want that?” I asked against his mouth. “To be out of control?” It was terrifying, how huge it felt when he touched me.
“Because when you’re in my arms, it’s the opposite. It’s like being in the barrel of a perfect wave. Balance and the thrill of adrenaline and the peace of the water. That’s what you are.”
I swallowed and pressed my forehead to his chin. The softness of his beard and the warmth of him seeped into me. I lifted my other hand to his chest, concentrating on the heartbeat there.
I slid my hand down and under the hem of his shirt to get to his skin, to feel it more fully. The fur of his chest and the light sheen of sweat from the heat of the workshop, the heavy cross that laid between his pecs.
“You overwhelm me.” I lifted my head again to look into his dark eyes. The wild was there, like always, but it wasn’t just that brazen man who swept in and made me sit up and take notice. There was truth and acceptance for me. And something bigger there that scared the hell out of me.
I went onto my toes and lined our mouths up, closing over his with my own. I pushed at his shirt until he leaned back and whipped it over his head, then came back for more.
