Page 95 of Illusive
“Whew. Okay.”
Cross hesitated. Then released his breath in a rush. “Ireland… If you have any questions or concerns about the way I handled things… I…”
Ronan watched the man rub his palms on his jeans. The awkward fidgeting and loss for words struck him as extremely atypical for Cross, which put him on alert.
Ireland must have felt the same, because she leaned forward and set her fingertips on the back of her brother’s hand. “Dad mentioned that you’re taking some heat. Everyone’s got an opinion these days, and the belief that everyone else has got to hear it.”
“Tell me about it,” Cross muttered.
She waved a careless hand. “For what it’s worth, I don’t care what strangers think about us. I’m not watching the news, scrolling through social media, or anything else. Screw ‘em. You’re Gideon-fucking-Cross.”
Cross’s facial expression blanked. Realization struck Ronan at nearly the same time.
Ireland still didn’t know her brother had turned the ransom demand into a bounty, something every expert said was most likely to get a hostage killed.
Ireland was scrolling through the streaming options for an action movie when Ronan walked out of her bedroom dressed in navy lounge pants, a black Jazz Fest T-shirt, and bare feet. He was tying his hair back, revealing the beautiful definition in his biceps. As he walked, she could see the gentle sway of his hefty penis behind the cotton and knew he was commando.
The view ignited a sultry heat inside her.
Ronan’s restrained hair fully exposed the exquisite face that went with that magnificent body. He was such a savagely beautiful man, his features so perfectly etched, his eyes so compelling, his mouth made for sinning in all the best ways. Hischiseled cheekbones gave his features elegance, while the square and sharply defined jaw echoed his strength of will.
She stared, absorbing the profound feeling of intimacy that came with having a man preparing to spend the night with her in her home. It was a new experience for her and for them as a couple. She was surprised by how much she liked it. Always before, she’d felt guilty inviting him over; the feelings of safety and strength that Ronan inspired warring with love and loyalty to her family. To be without that shame now was liberating.
Ireland whistled appreciatively.
His smile was temptation incarnate, simply for how openly affectionate it was. “If you think this outfit is worth a whistle, we might need to double-check whether you have a concussion after all.”
“I don’t even see the clothes, to be honest.”
Ronan’s laugh was like a warm breeze over her senses, its deep tone carrying uninhibited pleasure. It was the delight of a hedonist, a man who’d experienced neglect, pain, and captivity and was unwilling to let any moment of joy go uncelebrated. “You’re worse than a menace.”
She winked. “I asked you once if you slept in the nude. You said I’d find out. But I’m not buying that you wear that to bed.”
“I don’t trust you not to misbehave, even while I’m sleeping on the couch.”
Pants were definitely a hindrance. Carefully sliding the sheet from his hips while he slept so that she could take his magnificent cock in her mouth was absolutely one of her favorite things to do. To hear his sharp gasp of startled pleasure, to feel him swell with need so swiftly against her tongue, to taste and swallow his cum as he shuddered in climax…
Licking her lips, Ireland scooched carefully back into the corner of the sofa as he joined her. “You won’t fit on my couch.”
“I’ve slept on less comfortable surfaces.”
It was a throwaway statement, but she knew the reality of his experiences was heartbreaking.
She watched as he put a tube of something on the table. “What’s that?
“Arnica for your bruises.”
For a moment, she just looked at him. Then she bent at the waist to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the curve of his brow. “Admit it. You’re an android, aren’t you? You’re a cutting-edge version of the Jude Law sexbot in the movieA.I.”
Laughing silently, he turned his head to kiss her fingers. “Temptress. What are we watching?”
Ireland lifted her feet from the floor and stretched her legs across his lap, taking the opportunity to gently caress the bulge of his cock with the sole of her foot. “I’d rather look at you, actually.”
He caught her ankle, a wry half-smile on his face. “That’s not behaving.”
“You’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen,” she breathed, fucking him with her gaze. “I can’t help myself.”
Ronan’s cupped hand slid up her calf and down again. His palm was warm and dry, his strokes slow and easy.
