Page 32 of Legal Returns
“I want to help him.”
He wraps his arms around me and starts to back me toward one of the guest rooms in Tasha and LaSalle’s home. Having a two-year-old has been interesting lately. Danny is the world’s biggest cockblocker.
There are children who come running when they hear you open a snack. Then there is our son. Danny comes running the moment Ronan takes a kiss further than a peck.
Even while in Ireland, we couldn’t find a moment to ourselves. Not that Laoise and Cianán didn’t try to give us time alone. Danny just wasn’t having it.
We came home two weeks before Danny to get some time together, but work has had our attention. I’ve been so horny the last three days, but whenever my husband gets ready to beat the brakes off this pussy, here comes our little brat. I love my son something fierce, but damn. Can we have a minute?
And to think, I really want another baby. I don’t know how I’m going to get one like this and neither of us are getting any younger.
“Aye, we will, but for now, I need ya to help me.”
“And how can I do that, Mr. McGowan?”
Stopping outside the door to one of the rooms, he takes a step back with his hands still on my hips as he looks me over. A lot has changed over the last two years. I’ve allowed my natural hair color to grow out.
My hair is now a few inches past my shoulders, thanks to Reese’s girl, Alee. Today it’s down in loose barrel curls around my face in all its carrot-red glory.
I went with a black tunic dress with slits on both sides, wanting to feel like an attractive grown woman rather than looking like a college teenager with a ponytail and Cheez doodles–stained T-shirt and sweatpants. The way my husband is looking at me makes me feel like I got it right.
I feel desired and less like an author mom covered in dog hair and baby snacks. Since the Alliance has pretty much settled into place, I haven’t been Danika often. That includes her wardrobe.
“I need a good shag, Mrs. McGowan. Let me fuck ya breathless while Danny is distracted from keeping my pants dry as a bone.”
I laugh as his words mirror my thoughts. Before I can say another word, Ronan takes my lips in a passionate kiss.
Locking my hands in his hair, I moan into his mouth. He opens the door at my back and pushes me into the room. Once the door is closed behind us, he lifts me onto his waist while devouring my mouth.
This man’s kisses are still as intoxicating as they were when we first kissed. Our connection is as strong as ever. I didn’t think I could love Ronan any more than I did when I first married him.
Time has flown and the last nine years of our lives have been more than I could have asked for. I love this man with everything that I am. Our son has only made me love him more. Ronan is so sweet with our boy.
He’s a loving father and a great husband. I felt like a queen during my pregnancy. Ronan wouldn’t let me out of his sight once I returned home and I didn’t lift a finger the entire end of my pregnancy.
“This dress has been driving me crazy since ya got ready. If I don’t fuck ya soon, I’m going to explode,” he growls against my lips as he slides his hands over my thighs.
As if on cue, the music from downstairs seems to turn up as “New Flame” begins to bump through the speakers. Cheeringcan be heard from the backyard, but Ronan ignores all of that as he palms my breast and kisses me with so much passion, my heart races and a pulse starts between my legs.
I whimper as he releases me to slide down his front. Ronan grins back at me as he begins to unbutton his black dress shirt. I guess we were both thinking about our son when we got dressed. Black is the only way to go.
As Ronan’s chest comes into view, I can’t help but bite my lip. At fifty-two, this man is still fit and fine as fuck. Ronan works out as much as I do. We all do, given our line of work.
However, there’s a definition to his body that speaks to his insane dedication to remaining fit and agile. The flex and ripple of his muscles make my mouth water. I go to unfasten my shoes, but he shakes his head at me.
“Leave them. Turn around,” he commands.
I place my foot back on the floor and turn around for him, then look over my shoulder. He comes out of his shoes and socks, then his pants. In all his naked glory, he saunters to me with those powerful-looking thighs on display.
Brushing my hair out of the way, he then unzips my dress. Once I’m standing before him in only my thong and strappy six-inch heels, he runs his hands gently over my back.
“Damn, love. It’s hard to think that if you’re not pregnant by the end of this year, we’re going to stop because of yer age. Forty.” He snorts.
“Ya still look like yer in yer twenties. Look at this sexy body. We still don’t fuck like our age.”
I laugh at his words. “You sure about that? You were complaining about your back last month.”
“Shut yer gob. That had nothing to do with our sex life.”
