His for Now (The Byrne Brothers Book 1)

by Sofia Tate

  She did as she was told. “I’m soaked, baby. I need to come so badly.”

  “We’ll come together. Now start thrusting them in and out. And rub your clit with the heel of your hand.”

  As Ronan pumped his shaft, Blakely pushed the heel of her right hand down hard onto her clit, simultaneously pistoning herself with her fingers. She opened her eyes briefly to see the veins in Ronan’s neck straining beneath the skin, his head thrown back, desperate for release. She joined with him, whimpering in unison at first, then shouting.

  “Yes…yes…that’s it…I’m so close…Ronan!” Blakely screamed.

  “Me too, baby,” Ronan yelled.

  Blakely watched Ronan working his cock, the veins in his neck straining, his jaw locked. Fuck, I miss him.

  She came fast, shouting her release, with Ronan joining her soon after.

  Miles and time zones separated them, yet they panted in unison until their breath regulated.

  “Baby?” Ronan asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I miss you so fucking much it hurts.”

  “I know, Ronan. I know.”

  Two weeks later, in her building’s gym in Manhattan, Blakely worked her arms and legs during her kickboxing routine in her weekly workout with her personal trainer, Dante Hunt, a tall man with olive skin, dark brown eyes, well-defined muscles, and dark hair styled in a Caesar haircut.

  He shouted at her. “Jab! Jab! Cross!”

  Blakely pummeled his punch mitts.

  “Now, kick! Front kick! Side kick!”

  Her legs went up higher than a Rockette’s.

  “Damn, girl! That’s it! Give it to me!”

  She gave him everything she had.

  “Yes! Okay, take a break.”

  She brought her legs down and doubled over, her hands on her thighs. She saw Dante pull off his mitts and look at her.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Who?” she asked innocently.

  “Don’t even try that with me, sweetie. I’ve known you for three years, and I’ve never seen you like I did just now. Either you’re really pissed at him, or…”

  “Or what?”

  Dante’s mouth dropped. “Holy shit! You had sex! A lot of it!”

  She grinned slyly.

  He clapped his hands together. “I knew it! I want to know everything.”

  Dante led her over to one of the workout benches. He sat her down and grabbed their water bottles, opening Blakely’s and handing it to her. “What’s his name?”

  She took a deep breath and smiled. “His name is Ronan. I met him at the ranch. He was the best man at the wedding and the owner’s oldest son. He’s tall, dark hair, blue eyes. At first I hated his guts—”

  “The best love stories always start that way,” he observed.

  “But then he got me to open up, and I had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Yes!” Dante yelled, fist pumping the air. “So, now what? You’re trying out the long distance thing?”

  “Yeah. We’re just going to see how things go. Ronan got burned before by someone, so I don’t know how long it’ll last. We live so far apart, and we’re so different. I just wonder if it’s all worth it.”

  “If what’s all worth it?”

  “Doing the long distance thing.”

  “Would you ever consider moving out there?”

  “I can’t imagine living anywhere else but Manhattan.”

  Dante paused before replying. “Okay. Let me tell you a little story. About two months ago, I met this hot Scotsman named Fergus. You know I love me some gingers.”

  She laughed. “Honey, you love anything with a dick.”

  “Naturally. But just listen to me, okay?”

  Blakely nodded.

  “He’s my total opposite. He loves Chopin, I love hip-hop. He’s travelled the world, and I’ve only been to the Bahamas. He has a Masters Degree in psychology, while I dropped out of college my freshman year and never finished. He comes from an upper-middle class family in Edinburgh, and I grew up in the South Bronx.”

  Blakely listened intently as he continued. “I didn’t think I was good enough for him. I blew him off because I got scared, but he didn’t give up on me. He sent me texts just to see how I was doing, never pushing to see me. He brought over chicken soup once when I wasn’t feeling well and took care of me the whole time. And that’s how I knew I loved him. All that stuff that makes us different doesn’t matter. It’s what’s in your heart that matters the most. And once you have that connection with someone else, that’s it. Game over.”

  Blakely remained quiet.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  She nodded her head in reply, then reached out to give him a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”

  He pulled away from her, both with tears in their eyes. “Thank you, B. I’m happy for you too. You’ll have to meet Fergus sometime. But I’m telling you now that if he offers you haggis, run for your life, because that is some of the nastiest shit I’ve ever tasted!”

  Blakely burst out laughing. “Duly noted. Oh, by the way, there’s something you should try with Fergus if he’s ever out of town.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Skype sex. It fucking rocks.”

  Ronan stood in the stables, glaring at Tim.

  “I told you to groom Lightning.”

  “Umm…no, you didn’t, Ronan,” he stammered. “You, uh, told me to groom Brandy.”

  “Wrong! Just do what I said!”

  Tim frowned. “Yes, sir.”

  Ronan went to check on Aran in his stall at the other end, but could still hear Tim and Mack talking, thanks to the acoustics of the barn. Mack had been watching the exchange from afar.

  “Jeez, Mack. He told me Brandy, not Lightning.”

  The old man sighed in agreement. “I know.”

  “What’s the big deal with Lightning anyway? He’s always asking me to check on Lightning. He’s been like this for weeks. What crawled up his butt?”

  Mack patted Tim on the shoulder. “More like who crawled up his butt, son.”

  Ronan shut his eyes and slid the stall door closed. His hands gripped the top of the wood. He opened his eyes and watched as Aran began to chew on some hay. Images started flashing through his mind—that moment when he was sitting on Aran and saw Blakely’s perfectly round ass ahead of him as she was falling off Lightning, the look on her face when she saw it was him holding her.

  He missed her like crazy. As much as he loved having sex with her over the computer so he could see her and hear her, it wasn’t the same. He yearned for the touch of her soft flesh, the feel of her breath on his neck. And he knew it would always be like that as long as she lived in New York.

  Ronan headed for the office. He was surprised to find his family’s lawyer, Stewart Chase, sitting in his father’s office, along with his parents.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Sit down, son,” his father requested.

  “No thanks, I’ll stand. Will someone say something?”

  Malachy and Rosaleen looked to Stewart, who cleared his throat. “Ronan, your father just received the notice. You have ninety days until the bank forecloses on the ranch.”

  Ronan’s face turned red with fury. “They can’t do this!”

  Rosaleen spoke up. “Ronan, love, Stewart has an idea that could stop the foreclosure.”

  Ronan’s heart started to beat faster, his throat going dry, nervous to hear his answer. “What?”

  “If you want to keep the ranch, you’ll have to sell parts of it,” Stewart said.

  Ronan shook his head furiously. “Absolutely not. That’s out of the question.”

  Malachy yelled, “For the love of God, Ronan, will you shut it and just listen?”

  Rosaleen rolled her eyes. “Like father, like son.”

  Ronan crossed his arms over chest and glared at Stewart. “Go on.”

  “In my opinion, the land that would bring the mo
st money would be any of the property along the lake.”

  Ronan’s heart dropped to his stomach. He almost thought he’d misheard him. “What?”

  “I know it’s the most beautiful area on the property, but it will also bring in the most money that can pay off your family’s debts with enough left over as a safety cushion for your family. With your parents’ permission, I’d like to bring in a real estate agent who specializes in land of this size for her opinion.”

  “No!” Ronan shouted.

  No. I can’t lose it. I need it. I just need it.

  Stewart and his parents reared back in shock. “Ronan! What’s come over you?” his mother exclaimed.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ma. Go on.”

  Malachy and Rosaleen turned back to Stewart. “We don’t have a problem with that.”

  Ronan looked at his parents. Their sad, desolate faces crushed him. This was their home. This ranch was his legacy. He knew he had no right to be a stubborn ass because this was about more than himself.

  Finally, Ronan spoke. “That would be fine with me. Just keep me posted.”

  Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

  I need her.

  Despite his mother’s voice calling after him, Ronan rushed out of the office straight to the stables. He opened Aran’s stall and began to saddle him. Once he led him out, he jumped onto Aran’s back in one fluid motion and flew off down the path to the lake. To the spot where he had found his love. The sanctuary that would be soon taken away from him forever.

  It took him mere minutes to reach it. He dismounted from Aran and tied him to a tree branch.

  He walked along the path to the patch of grass where he and Blakely had picnicked. He laid down and tucked his hands under his head.

  Ronan looked up into the sky. Instead of the clouds, he saw her face, then her round, full tits that he feasted on again and again. Her sweet pussy where he licked her clean. How he pumped into her so hard, both of them desperate to come, to feel himself inside her tight cleft.

  With each thought, he grew increasingly aroused. The bulge in his jeans constricted against the rough denim.

  Ronan began to unbuckle his belt, followed by his zipper coming down. He reached underneath his briefs for his hard, straining cock.

  He stroked his length, recalling the guttural moans when he had sucked her clit, how she roared like a lioness when he pistoned into her pussy, the mutual sounds they made together when they climaxed.

  Ronan pumped his cock. He was coming so hard, his balls tightening against him. So fucking close. Currents of electricity pulsed up and down his arms, his legs. He wanted this. He needed this. With a roar, hot semen spurted from the tip.

  He fell back on the grass, his right arm almost numb. He closed his eyes.

  Ronan would have given anything to see her one more time. “Damn it, Blakely! You stubborn, opinionated…”

  He realized what he was saying, and he began to laugh cathartically. It was almost as if he was truly shouting at her, as if she was right there with him. He was losing it.

  Ronan got to his feet, removed the rest of his clothes, and ran straight for the water just like Blakely had that afternoon.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Staring at the pile of file folders on her desk, Blakely sighed. She turned around in her chair to look down at Park Avenue. The people on the sidewalks resembled ants rushing from one point to another. Everyone was rushing.

  Is this what I really want?

  A swift knock at the door made her swivel back to her desk.

  “Come in.”

  Clayton Powell appeared in her doorway. Blakely shot to her feet.

  “Good morning, sir,” she greeted him.

  “Good morning, Blakely. Please keep your seat,” he said, waving her to sit back down.

  She watched as the older gentleman sat down in the leather chair opposite her desk.

  “Blakely, I’ll come to the point. Mr. McLean and I have had some discussions, and we’ve decided that it’s time to talk specifics with you about putting you on the partner track. I’ve been hearing nothing but wonderful things from your clients and the staff. Spencer and I would like to take you to lunch later this week. I’ll have our assistants coordinate our schedules and reserve a table at 21 for us. How would that suit you?”

  Blakely’s heart began to pound. “I would look forward to that very much, sir.”

  “Excellent,” he declared. He glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in thirty minutes. We’ll talk more at lunch.”

  She stood again. “Yes, sir. And thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He smiled and turned to leave. Once he shut the door behind him, Blakely fell back into her chair. She leaned back and exhaled. It had finally happened. This would make her career. She would be set for life.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Ronan that night. It was going to be an amazing evening.

  Ronan settled into his usual spot on the couch, setting down his beer on the coffee table. He turned on his laptop. A few beeps, and her face appeared on his screen, dressed in her usual sweats, a huge smile on her face.

  “There’s my baby,” he said.

  “Hey you.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked suspiciously. “You’re practically jumping in your seat. Something’s up.”

  “There is! I have big news.”

  “Tell me, beautiful.”

  “My boss came to see me today. I’m officially on the partner track now. I’m so excited! can’t believe this is finally happening!”

  Ronan’s heart sank.

  Blakely’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy.”

  He pursed his lips together, gritting his teeth. “What did you expect, Blakely? This means I’ll never see you.”

  “What? Hold on! What about my client in Vegas? I’ll be out there a lot to work with them.”

  “And once that’s over? How often will you make it out to Nevada?”

  “Where is all this coming from? We both decided to keep it casual between us. I can’t believe you’re being like this,” she yelled, leaning forward into her chair. “You don’t understand what this means for my career.”

  He leaned into the screen. “Oh, you mean that career you told me about in Vegas that you hate? What about your own consulting firm, the one you wanted to open someday? Is that a thing of the past now?”

  “No! Of course not! But this is my life now, and I have to do what I know is right for me.”

  He shook his head.

  “What the hell was that for?” she demanded.

  “You’re not who I thought you were.”

  “Two-way street, Ronan. Sorry I’m such a disappointment to you. Sorry I can’t be the perfect woman for you who’ll drop everything to be with you. Now I’m starting to see why Amanda left.”

  He winced, shutting his eyes in anger.

  “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yeah, you did. I’m sorry I’m not what you want. When you figure out what you do want, let me know.”

  He hit the End button. He leaned back into the worn leather of his sofa, clenching his fists. “Fuck!” he shouted into the open space.

  Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and slammed the beer bottle against the wall, shattering the glass into tiny pieces all over the floor.

  Ronan’s chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. He looked at the mess he made, then fell back on the couch, sinking his head into his hands.

  Usually, nothing made Blakely happier than weekend brunch with Gigi at Balthazar. The French bistro in Soho always made her feel as if she were in Paris—the endless cacophony of the servers and customers, the comforting décor, the splendid taste of the food.

  But this time was different because she hadn’t heard from Ronan in a week. She could’ve kicked herself for bringing up Amanda. He hadn’t contacted Blakely since, and she wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move.


  They were sitting at a corner table, sharing a bowl of moules frites, mopping up the excess liquid with crusty pieces of bread.

  “I loved your photos from Kauai, Gi,” Blakely commented between bites.

  “That island is gorgeous. The mountains are so lush, and once I got a taste of the Aloha spirit…shit, I didn’t want to come home. You should skip the Côte d’Azur one year and go there.”

  Blakely took a sip of her Sancerre. “We’ll see. I don’t know how much time I’m going to have once I become partner.”

  Gigi looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean? You’ll be able to set your own hours. You’ll have more time on your hands.”

  “No, I won’t. This is my life now. It’s what I’ve been working for—”

  “—all my life. God, change the record, will you?”

  Blakely shook her head dismissively. “You don’t get it. Nobody does.”

  Gigi threw her hands up in the air. “Damn it, Blakely! You threw away a chance with Ronan—”

  Blakely raised her right palm to face Gigi, her voice dropping an octave. “Stop. I’m begging you, please don’t. I knew it wouldn’t have worked out. I was the one who was going to have to make all the compromises, leaving New York for some dude ranch in a bumpkin town in Nevada.”

  “Don’t be like that. You’re better than that. That’s not you talking. That’s your father.”

  “It’s not,” she insisted. She shrugged her shoulders. “Doesn’t matter now anyway. We tried and it didn’t work. Time to move on.”

  The two best friends remained mute as they quietly pecked at the remains of their meal. Blakely’s cell phone sprang to life, breaking the silence.

  She checked the screen, rolling her eyes at the caller ID. “Shit. It’s my dad.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Gigi muttered under her breath.

  Blakely picked up the phone. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hello, Blakely. I was thinking I’d like to throw you a small party to celebrate your news about becoming partner. It would be here at home. Completely catered, of course, maybe a pianist as accompaniment.”

  Blakely shut her eyes. “Daddy, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? I want to show everyone how proud I am of my little girl. And there’s someone I want you to meet.”