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Ronan

My knee was murdering me,and I hated myself. Lying here in the bed of my beautiful girl who was ten years my junior, helpless as a babe surrounded by her warm honey scent, I felt every one of my thirty-five years. Maybe even a few extra.

The arsehole hadn’t even kicked me hard, but he might as well have taken an axe to a pile of rotten wood. My knee held up under regular wear and tear, but any extra stress and I was down for the count.

Iris hurried into the room with frozen peas and placed them gingerly on my knee. I hissed at the cold, and she tutted, rubbing my calf and making soothing sounds. Her sweetness shot me straight in the goddamn heart.

“I half expected you to send me on my way after I failed you back there.”

She startled and looked up from my leg with wide eyes. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m not. I let the situation get out of hand, allowed us to be separated…” I shook my head. “No, fuck that, I’m talking to you like a bodyguard. As your boyfriend, I should have flattened every one of those eejits into the ground for saying what they did to you.”

She perched on the bed beside me, still in her pretty dress, and I regretted my fucked-up knee all over again. All I wanted to do was push her hem up to her waist and feast on her pretty, bare pussy.

“Oh, Ronan...I would never want you to do that.” Her mouth pressed into a grim line. “Tonight was nothing, at least as far as the questions. People yell shit like that at me all the time. If you’re going to be with me—”

I gripped her hip, a rumble vibrating my chest. “Iamwith you.”

She petted my face like I was a feral animal, and maybe I was. With her, I was out of control, more than I’d been with anyone else.

“I know, and I’m with you. That’s the thing, though. When you’re with me, you’re going to have to deal with situations like tonight. It won’t always be so bad, but it could be worse. You need to let it roll off your back or else it will eat away at you.” She leaned in and touched her lips to mine. “Words don’t mean anything. Those people don’t know me. You do. I care what you think and say, not some random guys with a camera.”

I gripped her nape and held her there, my eyes darting back and forth between hers. “How can you be so cool about this? I want to rip apart the very fabric of the universe and stuff them through the crack into the black void of nothingness.”

“Graphic.” She grinned, and I had no choice but to answer her with one of my own. “Honey bunny, I’ve been performing at dingy clubs filled with riled up metal heads since I was eighteen. The things the guys asked me tonight pales in comparison to what my fans have shouted and sometimes still shout at me. The tenth time a guy in the front row screamed at me to stop singing and show him my pussy, I started to grow immune. I laugh now.”

I winced, but she was still grinning. “I don’t picture myself ever finding humor in someone disrespecting you.”

“I’m not asking you to.” She stroked her fingers down the side of my face. “But you need to know I’m a tough bitch. Before you came around and made me all gooey and soft, I was the girl stomping on handsy boys in mosh pits, punching mouthy chicks, and flipping off anyone who tried to tell me what to do. Well, you know about that last part.” She tapped my flattened lips. “I have laughed in the face of a six-foot-five death metal front man who told me my pussy was going to rot and fall off because TSC went over our time on stage by five minutes. I’m not fragile, Ronan, and I’m not afraid.”

Huffing, I tore my gaze from her. My hands were fisted so tight, my short nails were cutting into my skin. “Stop talking.”

She inhaled sharply. “What?”

“Don’t tell me another goddamn thing I can’t do anything about or I am going to tear all my hair out.”

“Did you hear what I said? I don’t need you to do anything. I can handle myself.”

Reaching up, I shoved my hands in her hair and dragged her down to my chest. I gripped her hips and turned her body sideways so her face was on the bed and her feet dangled off the side. She laughed and squirmed, but when my hand came down on her arse, her head reared back with a gasp.

“What the hell?” she screeched.

“That’s for existing before I knew about you.” I smacked her other cheek. “That’s for walking around in the world without me by your side to scare those arseholes away.”

“Ronan!” She wiggled her hips, but she didn’t even attempt to escape me. “You’ve lost your mind.”

Two smacks, and her cheeks jiggled beautifully under her silky dress. “That’s for going into mosh pits. You should have known better. I bet you bruised this perfect skin.Myskin.”

“Of course I did.” She giggled and peered over her shoulder at me. Her eyebrow popped like she was challenging me. “You can’t walk out of a mosh pit without bruises.”

My hand came down on her arse two more times. She moaned and arched her spine.

“I don’t think you’re taking me seriously.”

She buried her face in her comforter, barely muffling her laughter. “I’m sorry, Ronan. I’m sorry I existed before we met. I won’t do it again.”

I swatted the backs of her thighs, then smoothed my palm over her backside. “You infuriate me,meala.” I massaged her cheeks, and she pressed into my touch. “But I wouldn’t want you more than my next breath if you weren’t so stubborn and fearless.”


Tags: Julia Wolf Romance