Catch and Release

by Laura Drewry

  “Jessie might not be very big, but she’s tough, and she started calling Da out on all his bullshit. He finally saw what he’d become and that was it—he stopped cold turkey. Found himself a couple different meeting places over in Port Hardy and went almost every day. When he couldn’t, he called his sponsor on the phone.”

  Ro stared down into the dying flames and sighed. All the years of abuse, the pain, the destruction: All those emotions paled next to the pride he felt every time he thought about his da—big, loud Jimmy O’Donnell, the man who held Guinness up as the fifth food group—not only admitting he had a problem but doing something to fix it.

  “He even sat the three of us down the first Christmas after he’d joined, and he begged our forgiveness.” Ro hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it was too late to take back now.

  “Oh,” Hope breathed. “That must have been horrible for all of you. Great, but horrible.”

  “Yeah. Best and worst day of our lives up to that point.”

  Neither of them said much for a while after, not until the barely there evening breeze made Hope shiver.

  “Come on,” Ro said. “Let’s go in.”

  After dousing what was left of the fire, they headed inside, just as Finn and Jessie were headed downstairs.

  “Liam and Kate have already gone to their cabin,” Jessie said. “But because we didn’t get any work done tonight, you need to make sure you’re up bright and early tomorrow.”

  Ro gave her a mock salute, then stood in the lobby with Hope, not sure what to do next. If he was smart, he’d go to bed, because tomorrow was going to be a long day. Sundays always were, with the new batch of guests arriving, but he didn’t want to go to bed. Not alone anyway.

  Easing the front of her hair back from her face, he smiled down at her.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Quid pro quo,” she said, wagging her eyebrows at him. “Shoot.”

  “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as her smile widened. “Honestly, I was leaning more toward the ‘or what,’ but we can certainly start with a kiss.”

  Did she just—

  That was as far as the question got in his mind before she fisted her hands into the front of his T-shirt, pushed up on her toes, and kissed him.

  Chapter 13

  “I don’t have friends, I got family.”

  Dominic Toretto, Furious 7

  Every time Ronan kissed Hope, he left her dough-brained. The first time, down by her room, it had been all physical. Well…mostly physical anyway. There was no denying she was already feeling something for him, something other than holy crap on a cracker, this guy’s hot, but they hadn’t known each long enough or well enough for that kiss to be much more. Even so, that first kiss rocked her back a ways; going by how long it took him to get upstairs, it must have done the same to him.

  Every kiss since then seemed to build on that attraction, leaving her wanting more—more of his kiss and more of him. It wasn’t just physical anymore, and it hadn’t been for weeks. Hell yeah, she liked looking at him—he was freakin’ gorgeous—but that part of him was quickly taking second place to who he was. Everything about him fascinated her, and no matter how much time she got to spend with him, she always wanted a little bit more.

  He wasn’t nearly as loud or scary as he’d come across during that conference call. Not even close. The Ronan O’Donnell she’d come to know was an incredibly loyal and protective man, who preferred to keep his emotions to himself but who clearly loved his family more than anything. Unlike his brothers, who were both smart-asses, Ronan tended toward the dry, quiet type of humor, usually muttered when he didn’t think anyone was listening.

  But Hope was always listening. She wanted to hear everything he said, because it meant she’d get another glimpse into who he was, and the more she knew about him, the easier it was to let herself fall. Sure, she’d only known him for six weeks, but six weeks or six years, what difference did it make?

  She wasn’t stupid or naïve: She knew all it would take was a whisper from her, and Ronan would have her naked in a heartbeat. And there’d been so many times over the last few weeks when she’d come close to whispering those words—every time he slid his fingers through her hair, every time his arms pulled her up close and let her know that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and every time he rumbled out one of those curses that told her he was about ready to explode.

  Hope was ready to explode, too, and that part of her brain was in full-on meltdown most of the time, throwing out all sorts of ideas about how sex with Ronan would be freakin’ earth-shattering and how stupid she was not to jump at it every chance she got. And, oh man, she wanted to jump at it. There was no doubt that sex with Ronan was going to be amazing—hell, a simple look from him sent everything misfiring inside her brain and made all her sensitive parts tingle.

  So it wasn’t that she didn’t want to—God help her, she wanted to. She was more than ready to give him everything she had, body and soul. But she wanted the same in return, and so far he hadn’t been ready or able to give her that. No matter how great the sex might be, she wanted it to be more than that, and she needed to know he wanted more, too.

  She needed to know he’d fallen as hard as she had, that he was willing to give her everything, too. If he couldn’t do that, then it didn’t matter how great the sex was, it’d still just be sex, and Hope wasn’t willing to settle for that.

  Tonight…yeah. From the second his lips touched hers as they sat in that chair, she knew. At first she thought she’d spooked him, saying that she didn’t want to leave him, because he got this strange confused look on his face, but then he kissed her and…well…ho-lee mother.

  Ronan might not be good with the flowery words and such, but there wasn’t a poet—dead or alive—who would have been able to accurately describe what came through in those kisses. Sitting in the wooden beach chair, he’d given himself up to her in the most gentle and beautiful way ever, and then he’d backed it up by laying himself open and letting her see his scars in all their ugliness.

  She hated every single word he said, but she loved that he said them to her, that he trusted her with his pain. She hated that he’d grown up the way he did, with so much confusion and fear, but she loved that he and his brothers looked out for one another, that they still had one another’s backs no matter what. She hated that he’d lived all these years feeling as if he’d failed Liam and Finn, but she loved that his loyalty and devotion ran that deep.

  She hated why he was the man he was, but, oh Lordy, she loved the man he’d become, and she was going to show him exactly how much. Threading her fingers through his, she led him downstairs to her room. When they got to the door, he detoured to put JD in his room first, then stood in the doorway to her room, seemingly uncertain about what he should do next.

  “Are you…” He trailed off, swiped his hand across his mouth, and started again. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Quite.” And she was, no question, but seeing him standing there suddenly started her nerves twitching. “Are you?”

  “Fuck yeah.” His blurted-out answer seemed to surprise him more than it did Hope, because he closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest for a second before finally looking up at her again, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry. Just been thinking about this for a while.”

  Toe to scalp, there wasn’t an inch of Hope that didn’t ignite right then and there, so why didn’t she move? Why didn’t she tug him inside and close the door? She was suddenly racked by too many feelings at the same time: excited, nervous, thrilled, terrified, happy—and really worried she wouldn’t be what he wanted or expected.

  That had to be why she did it.

  Ronan clicked the door closed and took his first step toward her, sending a massive tremble rocking through her, and instead of smiling up at him all sexy and flirty, like she wanted to, she crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed hard.


  “Did you know a pig’s orgasm can last for half an hour?”

  Oh. My. God.

  What the hell was wrong with her? Was she trying to turn him off—because surely to God no man on the planet would want to hear about pig orgasms right before he had sex. But for some reason it didn’t even slow Ronan down.

  “Lucky pigs,” he said, laughing quietly. “I’ll do my best for you, sweetheart, but half an hour? Yeah, you might need to let the pigs win on that one.”

  In all the ways Hope had imagined this moment—and she’d imagined it all kinds of ways, from soft and romantic to hot and sexy—not once had she imagined it starting with her being mortified.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered, turning her face away and clenching her eyes tight. “I don’t know why I said that. I just—”

  “Hope.”

  It seemed to take a long time for her to work up the nerve to look at him. “Yeah?”

  “Tell me something else.” He slid his right hand around the side of her face and leaned close…so close…but he didn’t kiss her. “Let them all out.”

  “Oh.” God, was that her voice making that shaky sound? “Uh…polar bears are left-handed.”

  His lips barely brushed the corner of her mouth, but holy hell!

  “What else?” He pressed a soft kiss against her cheek, then trailed his lips along the length of her jaw until she had to curl her fingers around his waist for balance.

  “Uh…the Pittsburgh Penguins made Mr. Rogers an honorary captain.”

  She felt him smile against her neck, just below her ear, so she tipped her head a little to the side, hoping he’d do it again, that he’d not only smile but kiss her right…there.

  “There are worms in Australia that can grow up to nine feet long.” Hope didn’t even know what she was saying anymore, she was just letting stuff fall out. “The average major league baseball only lasts seven pitches.”

  Ronan pulled back and looked at her, a teasing glint in his soft green eyes.

  “I knew that one.” And then he kissed her—finally—and any anxiety she’d felt a minute ago instantly vanished.

  Warm and strong, his kiss made her forget everything else except that moment, with his left hand sliding across her butt and pulling her in closer, tighter, until she was pressed right up against him. And it wasn’t even near close enough.

  She grabbed fistfuls of his T-shirt and pushed it up, whimpering when he let her go so he could yank it over his head.

  “Oh my.” Her fingers trembled lightly as she danced them across his broad bare chest and down his hard abs to the waistband on his jeans.

  Each barely there touch made Ronan suck in a sharp breath, and each one of those left Hope feeling more empowered. That was her making him do that, it was her touch making him curse against her mouth, and, God help her, she loved that.

  She’d barely touched his zipper when he couldn’t seem to hold back anymore; he took her face in both hands and kissed her—hard and hungry, deep and desperate, and as she lowered his zipper, bit by bit, his tongue urged her lips open, teasing and tasting.

  Hope slid her fingers beneath the elastic of his boxers and eased them down with his jeans, taking her sweet time to feel the heat of his skin against her palms, and laughing when she finally freed him from behind that stiff denim.

  “Jesus, Hope.” Quick as lightning, Ronan wrenched his mouth away, shoved his jeans and boxers down the rest of the way, and kicked them off, leaving him in nothing but his beautifully muscled nakedness.

  He made to reach for her again, but Hope shooed his hands away.

  “Give me a second here,” she said, laughing. “You’re like…wow.”

  And holy crap, he really was. Big and hard—that was Ronan in every sense of the word, but in typical Ronan fashion, he wasn’t interested in hearing how wow he was. Instead, he reached for her again, caught her around the waist, and pulled her back to where he had her before, hissing as she ran her hands down his back and over his bare butt.

  “Lose the dress,” he growled. “Or I’m ripping if off you.”

  “Oooh,” she said, shivering over a giggle. “That sounds like—”

  In one quick jerk, he split the back of her dress wide open and dragged it down her arms.

  “—fun,” she finished, still giggling. If she’d known this was going to happen tonight, she would have worn underwear that were a little less…well, a little less.

  Instead, she stood there in front of him in her plain boring black bra and panties, not looking nearly as sexy as she would have liked for this moment, and yet for some reason he still looked at her as if she was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.

  “Ho-lee shiiiit,” he muttered. “You’re perfect.”

  She wasn’t—not even close, actually—but the mere fact he thought so was enough to make her throw her arms around him and kiss him again. And while she did that, Ronan made short work of the rest of her clothes, then lifted her straight up and carried her over to the bed.

  “I hope you’re not a screamer,” he said, whispering it over a choked laugh. “ ’Cause these walls are pretty thin.”

  “Now he tells me.” She started to lie back, then bolted up so fast she cracked her forehead against his. “Ow! Sorry—my bag. Grab my bag.”

  Grumbling, he did as she said. “Trust me, we’re not gonna need duct tape or electrical cables.”

  It didn’t take her long to find them, because she’d specifically tucked them in the small zippered pocket for two reasons: Number one, she didn’t want them falling out unexpectedly, and number two, she wanted to make sure she knew where they were when she needed them.

  “Oh.” A wave of guilt washed over Ronan’s face as she set the condoms on the side table, then dropped her bag to the floor. “Right. Good thing you’re always prepared. I think.”

  He was so cute when he frowned like that.

  “I don’t carry them around all the time.” Laughing, she curled one of her hands around his neck and tugged him close. “I just wanted to be ready in case…you know…we ever got here.”

  As she spoke, she slid her free hand down his stomach and wrapped it around his full erection, making him curse again, louder this time.

  “And I think we’re here,” she said.

  A few lightning-fast moves later, he had her flat on her back in the middle of the bed, his mouth whispering hot promises in her ear as he smoothed his rough hand slowly up her arm and over her collarbone. She arched toward him, gasping when he finally cupped her breast, took the weight of it in his palm, and caressed it so freakin’ gently she almost came undone right there.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “We’ve got a ways to go yet.”

  A snorting laugh ripped out of Hope’s throat.

  “Maybe you do,” she said. “But I’m about this close…”

  “Me, too.” Chuckling low and sexy, Ronan caught her mouth under his and kissed her again, teasing and nipping. She speared her hands through his hair and tried to hang on, but it was no use, because every part of her body was a writhing feverish mess.

  He dipped his head lower, breathing feather-light kisses across her breast, flicking his tongue over her tight nipple and then smiling against her when she cursed at him.

  She tilted her pelvis, trying to urge him on, but instead of helping her out, he slid his fingers through hers and pressed both their hands flat against her stomach, easing both of them closer to the spot she needed him most.

  With a touch of his knee, he nudged her legs a little wider, then slipped their joined fingers through her wet heat. Hope sucked in a sharp breath as Ronan ground out a growl against her breast.

  “Hope.”

  The desperation in his voice had her scrambling for the packets on the side table. After watching her fumble with it for barely a second, Ronan grabbed it away from her, ripped it open with his teeth, and hissed again when she set her hands over his and they worked together to roll the latex down the length of him.

  Wit
h a wicked grin, he lifted her hands over her head and held them there with one hand while his other skimmed down her body inch by inch, hooking her around the knee and curling her leg around him. Eyes locked on hers, he pushed inside, just a little, then stopped. Hope shifted beneath him, urging him to give her more, and he did, but not enough before he eased out again.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “No! I need—”

  He caught her cry with a kiss as he thrust into her, full and deep, and freakin’ well perfect.

  Hell yes, that’s what she…

  “Oh.”

  Ronan was moving again, teasing her with stroke after stroke, pushing her toward the edge but never letting her fall—not yet. Head back, neck exposed to the magic of his lips, she arched off the mattress, wanting—needing—to take him deeper, but instead of helping her out, he just smiled against her neck and eased out again.

  Hope was close…so close. All she needed was him buried deep inside her. Pulling one of her hands free, she circled her fingers around him and stroked lightly, loving the way that simple touch made him drop his forehead to her shoulder and moan, low and deep in his chest.

  She stroked him again, a little harder, then let out a soft laughing squeal when he slapped her hand away and pushed into her one last time, long and deep. She felt him stiffen and she scrambled for something to hold on to, to save that feeling…right there…for another second or two, but Ronan brushed his fingertip against her, right where they joined, and the shock of that touch against her most sensitive spot sent her spiraling and crashing with him.

  His mouth found hers, his kiss smothering her cries even after he collapsed on top of her. She could barely breathe, but she didn’t care; all she cared about was keeping him right there for as long as she possibly could.

  She’d known before they even went downstairs that she loved him, but now…now it felt as if her heart had burst open inside her chest. She couldn’t remember ever being this happy—and it wasn’t just because he’d rocked her through a mind-bending orgasm, either. No, it was because she knew this was it, this was where she belonged. Ronan was the family she’d been aching for all these years. He was her home.