Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance

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Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance Page 15

by Claire Kingsley


  I’m lost. Taken. Completely his.

  Eventually the pulses subside, and he lowers himself over me. He puts one hand on the side of my face and stares into my eyes. His lips meet mine, so soft and sweet.

  “I love you,” he says, and kisses my cheeks and my forehead.

  His sudden gentleness disarms me and tears spring to my eyes. “I love you, too.”

  He rests his forehead against mine. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “Thank you for letting me.”

  23: Selene

  It feels like I’m coming to after losing consciousness, but I don’t think I was asleep. I blink, looking up at the ceiling. I’m lying on my back, splayed across the bed. My body is so spent I’m not sure if I can move.

  Ronan props himself up next to me and reaches for my hands. He unfastens the knot, slipping off the tie, and brings one arm to his mouth. He kisses the vulnerable skin on the inside of my wrist, rubbing the base of my palm with his thumb.

  “Are you all right?” he asks.

  “Yes. You didn’t hurt me.”

  “Good.” He kisses my other wrist, his lips warm on my skin. “Did you learn your lesson?”

  My mouth turns up in a smile. “Yes.”

  “Are you going to be a naughty girl again?” he asks.

  “Definitely.”

  He laughs and kisses me again. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Selene Taylor.”

  “And you are nothing like I thought you would be, Ronan Maddox.”

  I glance over and look at the time. “We should probably get up. We’re going to be late.”

  Reluctantly, we both get up and get dressed to meet Braxton and Kylie. I’m hit with another flutter of nerves. Back before Brax and Ky got together, the triple date test was always important to me. The three of us are so comfortable with each other, hanging out is as natural as breathing. But anytime we added a boyfriend or girlfriend to the mix, the dynamic changed. I insisted we get together as couples to make sure we could all still hang out—that if one of those relationships turned out to be the relationship, it wouldn’t separate us as friends. Since Braxton and Kylie married each other, the worry over whether either of them will wind up with someone the rest of us don’t like is gone. Now it’s down to me.

  I’m in so deep with Ronan; I’m worried I’ve fallen too fast. He hasn’t passed what’s now the double date test. He met Braxton and Kylie the night I was assaulted, but that wasn’t under regular circumstances, and he and I were still dancing around our attraction to each other. Or rather, I was dancing around my attraction to him, keeping him at a distance, while he made it abundantly clear what he wanted from me. But tonight is the test. Braxton is always suspicious of the men I date, so I don’t expect them to be fast friends. But will there be a glimmer of hope that the four of us could spend time together and it wouldn’t be strained?

  I don’t know if I’ve made it completely clear to Ronan how important Braxton and Kylie are to me. They’re almost the entirety of my family. Brax and I don’t have anyone else left. Our parents died, and our one living relative was the aunt who raised us. She died years ago, and it’s been just the two of us ever since. The two of us, plus Kylie and her dad, Henry. That’s it.

  We have friends, and coworkers, and people who have moved in and out of our lives over the years. But aside from that, there’s no one else. I can’t have a future with any man who puts a wedge between my brother and me. And as I freshen up in Ronan’s bathroom, I find myself desperately hoping that tonight goes well. I want to keep the flame of hope alive, that Ronan is something special.

  We get to the restaurant later than planned, but Brax and Ky aren’t here yet either. We find a booth in the bar and order drinks.

  I still feel flushed from earlier. Ronan leans back in his seat, looking completely relaxed, his arm stretched out behind me. He didn’t put the suit back on, nor the tie, opting instead for a casual blue top with three buttons at the collar, layered over a crisp white t-shirt, and a pair of muted green slacks. My hair doesn’t look quite as nice as it did when I first arrived at Ronan’s place, but I managed to tame it down and fix my makeup. I put my gold halter top and jeans back on, and feel reasonably put together for a Friday night out.

  Braxton and Kylie show up a few minutes later. Brax is sporting his fifties bad boy look with a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Kylie is cute, as usual, in a pale blue top and little black skirt, her dark hair down around her face.

  “Hey, sorry we’re late,” Kylie says.

  “It’s fine, we pretty much just got here,” I say. “So, you guys met Ronan once, but Ronan, this is my brother Braxton and his wife, Kylie. Guys, this is Ronan Maddox.”

  Braxton looks Ronan right in the eyes and gives him an easy smile while they shake hands. “Nice to see you again.”

  Kylie smiles and greets him warmly, and they both slide into the booth across from us.

  Brax sits back, his face totally relaxed, and drapes his arm across the seat behind Kylie. “Did you guys order yet?”

  “Just drinks,” I say. I keep waiting for the tension to rise, but Brax looks … happy. He plays with Kylie’s hair and asks Ronan a few questions. The two of them start chatting about football—one of Braxton’s favorite subjects—and Kylie gets up.

  “I just need to run to the ladies’ room,” she says. “Can you order for me?”

  “Sure, baby girl,” Braxton says, his mouth turning up in a lazy smile.

  I get out of the booth and meet Ronan’s eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

  I follow Kylie to the bathroom, grateful there’s no one else in there when we get inside.

  Kylie looks at herself in the mirror and fluffs her long, dark hair. “Sorry, I’m um … a little warm.” She fans herself.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m great.” She turns to look at me. “I just, you know, didn’t want Braxton coming to dinner with a loaded weapon, so…”

  I laugh. “Gotcha.”

  “You know, the only thing that sucks about being married to your brother is that I can’t talk to you about my sex life anymore,” she says.

  “That does kind of suck,” I say. Kylie and I were always really open about that sort of thing. We told each other everything. More or less. “You know what, talk to me anyway. We’ve been sharing this stuff with each other since … well, since there was anything to share.”

  “You sure?” she asks.

  “Positive,” I say. “Maybe just stop yourself from describing anything where I have to generate a mental picture.”

  She laughs. “That’s fair.” She takes a deep breath. “So, he does this thing where he goes down on me and gives me two orgasms, one right on top of the other. And that’s all before he even, you know, has his turn. And usually there’s another one when he goes. But fuck, it’s kind of exhausting. I feel like I want to crawl in bed right now instead of sit in a bar. I meant for it to be a quickie before we left, but he doesn’t really do quick.”

  “Damn,” I say. “No wonder you married him.”

  She lifts her eyebrows. “Right?”

  I lick my lips, and my mind goes to the mild ache between my legs.

  “You obviously fired the cannon before you guys came,” Kylie says with a knowing smile.

  “Is it that obvious?” I ask.

  “On you? Only because I know you,” she says. “Ronan though. Look at his face when we come out of the bathroom. I bet you twenty bucks he and Braxton are wearing identical expressions. It must have been pretty good.”

  I roll my eyes upward. “God, Kylie, it was … holy shit. He…” I stop and purse my lips together.

  “Oh, now you really have to tell me,” she says.

  “He tied me up and punished me.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Holy shit.”

  “I know,” I say. “He didn’t hurt me or anything like that. But god, it was phenomenal.”

  “I kind of
want more details because that sounds fun,” she says.

  “Just imagine a necktie, a headboard, and being told not to speak or move without permission. Then there was some spanking, and a lot of touching and teasing before we finally got to it.”

  “Damn, that’s hot,” she says. “You were good with all that? Were you worried he’d take it too far?”

  “No, I wasn’t worried at all. I trust him.” I pause again. “Ky, he said the L word.”

  She gasps. “What?”

  “I know,” I say. “He did. He said he loves me. He’s said it more than once.”

  “Wait, when you were tied up?” she asks.

  “No, he said it for the first time last week.”

  “And did you say it back?” she asks.

  I know her question means more than whether or not I said the words. She wants to know if I meant it. “I did.”

  She puts a hand to her mouth. “Selene, this is a big deal.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “That’s not what I expected you to tell me tonight,” she says. “But I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Ky.” I glance at the door. “We should probably get back to them. Unloaded weapons or not, I don’t want to leave Brax alone with Ronan for too long.”

  “Good plan.”

  We come out of the restroom and make our way back to our booth to find drinks on the table and the two men chatting amiably. Kylie was right, they do have identical expressions on their faces. They both look laid-back, almost tranquil. We take our seats, and Ronan is telling Braxton about Edge Gear and their recent breakthroughs in technical fabrics. After a while, the conversation turns back to sports. Braxton is fascinated by Ronan’s extreme sports passion, and Ronan listens with rapt attention as Braxton talks about some training techniques that could improve Ronan’s rock climbing.

  We all have a few more drinks and chat late into the night. I try not to stare at Braxton, but I’m amazed. His easy mood is not just the result of recent sex with his wife, regardless of how hot or kinky it might have been. I’m almost afraid to think it, but Braxton seems to like Ronan. He never likes men I date. I didn’t think he’d be any different with Ronan. It isn’t like Ronan doesn’t have the same reputation for arrogance and womanizing that the last few guys had. But Braxton never gives him the glowering stare I’m so used to seeing.

  We’re all pretty tipsy by the end of the night, but we’re walking distance from my house, and Brax and Ky don’t have to drive home either. We get up from the table and Ronan excuses himself to the bathroom, so the rest of us wait in the lobby.

  I look up at Braxton. He’s one of the few men I know who is actually tall enough that I have to look up, even when I’m wearing heels. “So, say something.”

  He gives me an easy smile. “About what?”

  “About Ronan.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Braxton says with a nod.

  “That’s it?”

  “What am I supposed to say?” he asks with a laugh.

  “What you think of him,” I say. “You didn’t glare at him across the table all night, and I want to know why.”

  Braxton looks at me for a long moment. “He protected you when you needed help. That earned him a lot of points in my book. And he looks at you the way a man should look at you.”

  I’m about to ask what he means when Ronan returns, putting a gentle hand on my elbow.

  “Ready?” Ronan asks.

  “Yeah.”

  Ronan takes my hand, twining our fingers together. We say goodbye to Braxton and Kylie outside, and walk back to my place in a comfortable silence.

  24: Ronan

  Selene and I get out of my car and head into the hangar. After our last skydive, Selene decided she wanted to do it again. I hardly need an excuse to take to the air, so I was thrilled. Since she wanted to be able to jump on her own, she took the five hour skydiving course a week ago. The weather didn’t cooperate that day, so we didn’t get to jump. But today dawned clear, and the forecast calls for nothing but sun. It’s the perfect day to fly.

  After a quick safety overview, we get geared up and head out to the plane. The air is chilly, and it will be colder up high, but my blood pumps hard, warming me. Selene’s eyes sparkle with excitement. I love sharing this with her, although I feel an unfamiliar twinge of fear as we board the plane. I’m not scared for myself—I’m buzzing with adrenaline in anticipation of the rush I know is coming. I’m worried about Selene. I know she can handle herself, and she’s been through the proper preparation. Yet I can’t shake the slight feeling of darkness that threatens my euphoria.

  The plane takes off, the engines roaring. We watch the ground fall away below us through the window. Selene clasps her hands together and chews on her lower lip. I know she’s nervous. We’ll be jumping together, and I’ll be in constant physical contact with her until we deploy our chutes. She also has a radio in her helmet, connecting her to someone on the ground who will help guide her landing. It allays my fear a bit to know I’ll be with her the whole way down.

  We circle wide, giving us a chance to appreciate the incredible views. My limbs tingle and I’m getting restless.

  “You okay?” Selene asks, pitching her voice to be heard above the noise of the airplane.

  “Yeah,” I say. “You ready for this?”

  She nods and smiles, giving me a thumbs up.

  We get to altitude and the jump coordinator opens the door. My heart thunders. Selene and I get into position, holding the bar above the opening. I meet her eyes, grab the strap at her hip, and give her a nod.

  She lets go and we both tumble out of the plane. I could have let her jump without me holding her jumpsuit. I know how to navigate while free-falling, and I could have moved to her once we were in the air. But I want the security of my hand on her suit the whole time.

  We spread out, horizontal to the ground, our arms and legs held up by the rushing air. Selene hollers with joy as we fall, and I let the high take over. There’s nothing like free-falling. High above the world, you’re flying, soaring through the fucking sky.

  I check my altimeter more than usual, even though I know Selene has a voice in her ear, telling her what to do. I work my way around so I’m holding her arm, but in front of her so she can see me. She smiles, the air buffeting her face, and gives me another thumbs up.

  We have about ten seconds before she needs to pull the chute. I’ll free-fall a little longer so I get below her and can land first. I want to be on the ground when she comes down in case she has any problems.

  I motion to her to pull the cord and let go of her arm. My heart is in my throat, waiting for it to deploy. She pulls the cord and the lines shoot out around her. They’re tangled—turned in the wrong direction—and her chute isn’t opening properly. It jerks her up and I keep falling, but I can see the chute isn’t slowing her nearly enough. I turn so I’m facing skyward, but I can’t do anything but fall.

  Fuck. Panic constricts my chest, and I can’t breathe. She’s going to hit the ground. She’s going to hit the ground and fucking die because I took her up here.

  Deploy the reserve, Selene. I will her to remember what to do, to listen to the instructions I’m sure she’s hearing through the radio in her helmet. Deploy the reserve. Do it, Selene. Don’t keep falling. We’re getting too low, goddamnit. Deploy the fucking reserve.

  Her main chute jettisons, flying away above her, and the reserve deploys. It opens perfectly, jerking her body, and her legs dangle below her.

  I check my altimeter. I’m getting dangerously low. I turn over so I can pull the cord, deploying my own chute, and steer toward the landing zone.

  Normally I wish the glide down would last longer, but this time I need to get on the fucking ground. I come in faster than I should, my feet pounding on the dirt as I land. The chute falls, and I unhook the straps, disentangling myself as quickly as I can.

  I turn, desperate to see her land safely. She comes in perfectly, guiding her direction with
the lines on each side, just like they taught her. The landing crew helps her down, ensuring she doesn’t hurt herself when her feet touch. She takes a few quick steps forward and stops, her chute deflating behind her.

  I’m on fire with panic and adrenaline as I run over to her. I grab her and crush her against me, fear saturating every fiber of my mind and body. She could have died. Right here, in front of me. She could have died because of me.

  I can’t live through that again.

  I hold her tight and she wraps her arms around me.

  “Fuck, are you okay?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says. “I’m fine, Ronan. I was scared for a second, but they told me what to do. It was okay.”

  She tries to pull back, but I can’t let her go. Not yet. My body shakes and I can’t get enough air. For the first time since I started skydiving all those years ago, I’m not buzzing after a jump. My limbs are heavy and my chest feels like there’s a weight sitting on top of it. I wonder if my heart is going to explode into a bloody mess.

  “Ronan,” she says, pushing against me. “Stop. I’m fine.”

  I drop my arms, but looking at her doesn’t help. She takes off her goggles and smiles, but I can’t see her expression. All I see are her eyes wide with fear when the tangled lines twisted around her, the realization that something had gone wrong.

  And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

  Anger flares and I storm into the hangar, looking for Sam, the owner.

  “What the fuck happened up there?” I say when I find him at his desk. “She’s a fucking beginner.”

  Sam stands up. “Listen, Mr. Maddox, we’ve never had a main chute fail in a beginner jump before—”

  “I don’t give a shit,” I say. “You just had one. Who packed her chute?”

  “Mr. Maddox, her reserve chute clearly deployed exactly as it was meant to—”

  “Fuck the reserve chute,” I yell, cutting him off again. “It shouldn’t have been necessary. You could have killed her.”

  I hear Selene running up behind me. “Ronan,” she says. “Stop.”

 

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