by Lee Wardlow
Introduction
Promise Me
Pointe Royal
3rd Generation
He had it all.
A promising career.
A loving family.
Then he didn’t.
A night of hard partying led to a blackout.
That night changed his life forever.
A night that involved her.
Someone he had known his whole life.
She couldn’t forget.
The consequences were momentous.
The stakes were high.
Now what do they do?
Promise me…
Ronan, promise me you won’t do it again.
The temptation was strong.
Could he resist?
Everything they thought they knew about Ronan Moore is a lie. He will have to discover what kind of man he truly is. Find the man he was before the drugs and the lies took over.
Promise Me
Pointe Royal
3rd Generation
By
Lee Wardlow
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is coincidental. Use of any actual organization although real is used in a purely fictional context for the story line not for promotion or any other purposes.
Copyright © 2016 by Lee Wardlow. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, redistribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
Dedication
To anyone who has loved an addict and knows the pain that is involved.
Prologue
Hot Shot wasn’t overly crowded yet but it was only eleven-thirty. The girls from my Adolescent Development class convinced me this was a good idea. Let’s face facts, I was not much of a partier at any time of the year. I didn’t really like the taste of alcohol but right now, they had me nursing a beer that wasn’t too awful.
Most of the people I knew had gone somewhere for Spring Break. Aruba. Panama City. Cozumel. Cancun. Wherever the latest hot spot was for college students to go on Spring Break they went. Not me, I stayed in good, old Ohio. I didn’t even know where that hot spot might be. Mom and Dad would have sent if I wanted to go. I was graduating after all but it didn’t make sense to spend that kind of money to run around on beaches for a week in a bikini where the sole purpose of life was to drink too much. Have guys I didn’t know or like grope me when I could do that here, in downtown Cincinnati.
I hated the club scene. Hot Shot was one of the hottest clubs in the downtown area. It had great views on one side with an open balcony that you could walk out onto all year round although in winter it was a bit chilly with the frigid winds blowing off the Ohio River. On the other side of the club, you also have balconies that overlook the bright lights of the city with the bridges for scenery.
My girls were on the dance floor right now shaking their, well shaking their everything while I was tired and wanting to go home. Bright, colorful lights in vivid hues were swirling over their heads while the music beat a hard tune in my head giving me the start of a headache. I heard raucous laughter and thought I recognized one of the voices. I turned slightly glancing over my shoulder. It was Ronan Moore, just as I thought.
Six foot two of solid male perfection. I had known Ronan my whole life. We lived in the same small town of Pointe Royal, Ohio. We both went to the University of Cincinnati. He was studying law while I am an education major. We were both almost done. After spring break, we had about two more months of school. Several times a week, I received phone calls from him asking me to meet him on campus for lunch dates. I’ll admit it I have a mad crush on this man.
Who wouldn’t? He’s charming. Caring and sweet with me, at least. He always has been. Just a smile from him makes my heart do flip flops in my chest. The man has hands. Big, broad hands. He was a wide receiver for our high school football team. Nearly, black hair that is thick and falls into his beautiful pale, green eyes. Perfect hair that he runs his fingers through and it just falls into place. The kind of hair that makes a girl jealous.
Eyes that are so gorgeous against his golden skin. A smile that makes you want to say, yes Ronan, I will take you home with me. How quickly do you want to leave? I have seen many women offer themselves to him. Many, he has turned down. Many he has not, only to break their heart the next morning when he kicks them to the curb. I didn’t say he was a saint.
I sighed. Wow, he is beautiful. Like off the pages of a magazine, male-model beautiful and I don’t think he flaunts it. He just knows it. He’s confident and yes, he’s cocky and full of himself. Charming, I said that already. And yes he is a shit at times but I still love him.
He is smart as hell too. He’s set to graduate from law school in the top five percent of his class. As I watch him more intently, I recognize that he is wasted tonight or getting there. He sways a bit on his feet. Yep, Ronan is having a good time tonight.
His back is cut with muscles from football and working on his grandfather’s farm. His jeans are snug across his muscular ass. He has one of those asses. A firm perfectly shaped butt that you can grasp in your hands and hold onto.
I am wearing a flowing, lightweight material top that is sleeveless so I shouldn’t be warm but I am. His snug, cotton shirt outlines every inch of his torso. I knew I could go over and say hello. He would hug me and I could be close to that body. He would hold me against his firm, muscular frame but that is as far as it would ever go. I am no more to him than a baby sister.
Another sigh escapes me. I watch him a little longer. There are no girls surrounding him and his friends tonight.
What the hell. I am going over.
I slid off the bar stool where I was sitting, bored as hell and lonely. I maneuvered between tables until I was standing right behind him. He was nearly a foot taller than me so his friends had to lean around him to see me. All the Moore boys were tall like all the O’Halloran sisters were short. I am Skylar O’Halloran. The second to the youngest of the O’Halloran sisters. My two older sisters married Ronan’s brothers Ciaran and Fionn.
“Well who is this beauty?” one of his friends said noticing me standing behind Ronan.
He turned and looked down at me. His eyes lit up at the sight of me. He said my name with such a slow, sexy quality that I almost sighed out loud. Then he wrapped his arm around me. He was holding a beer in his other hand. Not his first, nope definitely not. His eyes were glazed but still beautiful.
“How are you Skybug?” He whispered near my ear. His breath warm against my neck. His fingers were pressed firmly into the skin just above my ass. I could smell beer on his breath but also his soap. Clean and damn, did he smell wonderful.
I wrapped my arm around his lean waist. “I’m good Ro,” I replied. He had me tucked hard against his side. Nothing sensual. Just firmly, like he was protecting me. He was looking down on me.
“You look amazing tonight,” he practically growled at me. His eyes were traveling up and down my frame.
I wasn’t even dressed like my girls. They were decked out in short skirts and sparkling tops. Some low cut. Four-inch-high heels showing off their long, slender legs. I was short even with high heels I didn’t have long legs. I had worn the high heels though with my skinny jeans that were practically plastered to my thin frame. I wore a flowy, gauzy top that was colorful and low cut with no sleeves. Tonight, Ronan was noticing me. His eyes were devouring me.
“Wanna share that with us Ronan?” one of his friends asked. I thought his name was Stokes. He was a nice looking guy too but every time I
saw him he was vulgar to me. I didn’t like that about him. A tall, blonde dude with a fake tan and pale, blue eyes. Always smirking and nasty. Just not my type.
“Not in this life Stokes,” he snapped without taking his eyes from my face. “Skylar is special.” He gave me a squeeze. His voice was deep and soft as he continued to talk about me. “I love this girl. You don’t touch her. Skylar’s from my hometown, Pointe Royal.”
“Man, she’s a fine piece of ass. Too fine for you,” he teased Ronan. He was trying to rile Ronan. I could see the gleam in Stokes’ eye. Ronan was not taking the bate.
I glanced up at Ronan’s face but he wasn’t looking at me now. He was glaring at Stokes. Then he guided me away from his friends. He sat on a barstool and put his beer on the table. Then he guided me between his legs with his hands, those big, glorious hands that I loved were resting on my hips; casually caressing me through my jeans. I heard more vulgarities come from Stokes but I chose to ignore them. Ronan glared at his friend over his shoulder.
I took my finger and touched his chin, covered in a fair amount of whiskers that contributed to his roguish charm. “Don’t worry about him,” I told him gently.
“What are you doing out tonight?” He asked. He knew I rarely went out.
“The girls in my Adolescent Development class convinced me to go out with them.” I looked over my shoulder showing him where they were dancing on the floor.
He chuckled. “And my Skybug doesn’t like to dance.”
“I do not.”
He pulled me in closer and nuzzled my neck. “You smell nice,” he whispered. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. This was more intimate than anything Ronan Moore had ever done to me. Was the booze lowering his inhibitions?
Then the strangest and most wonderful thing happened. Ronan brushed his lips across mine. A soft moan of pleasure escaped me. He looked at me like he had never seen me before. Then he tangled his hand in my long blonde hair and he just held my face close to his, staring at me for several long minutes. “Skylar,” he said my name as if he was confused. Then he possessed my lips with his and a fierceness that left me breathless.
I let my hands slide over his broad shoulders. I didn’t know what else to do. I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him. The crush of my teenage years. The man I had been having lunch with several times a week on campus for the last three years was kissing me with a passion that was overwhelming.
A man I think I might have fallen a little in love with given every smile he directed at me. With every touch of his hands. With every laugh that we shared. This man was kissing me. His tongue teased my lips and I opened my mouth to him. He pulled me closer and I could feel how excited he was.
Suddenly, my headache was gone but my head was spinning. What was happening here? I ran my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned into my mouth. His hands slid down to cup my butt and pull me closer. Then he stopped. Just stopped kissing me. Ronan pressed his forehead to mine. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
Ronan pressed his lips to the side of my mouth. Then my jaw. The tender spot below my ear. Then he came back to my mouth. Both hands cupped my face. His lips were devouring mine once again. My hands were now at his firm waist; needing something to hold on to. My god, I wanted to climb into his lap and get as close to him as possible.
“Get a room,” I heard Stokes shout.
Our kiss became softer, less fierce. More controlled where before we were so close to being out of control. Ready to rip each other’s clothes off in the increasingly crowded nightclub. I wanted that heat back. I wanted to strip off our clothes and make love. To hell with the consequences for our friendship. Then he leaned back on the stool so he could look at me. Ronan looked troubled for a moment. Finally, he said to me. “Did you drive?”
I had. I nodded acknowledging his question. Words? I could not form them. “Take me home Skylar,” he begged. His voice held all the urgency that our kiss had. I didn’t know what he wanted when we home. I was afraid to ask but I was willing to find out.
He rose and I stepped back to give him room. He downed the remainder of his beer. “I have to get my purse,” I told him. He nodded.
He went to his friends. I saw him grab Stokes’ shirtfront. I don’t know what his friend had said but it wasn’t good. He pushed Stokes away from him and turned heading in my direction. His stride was purposeful and deliberate. He was coming for me. I told my friends goodbye and grabbed my purse.
We didn’t talk while we walked to my car. He just held my hand loosely. Sweetly. His skin was warm and rough. He was older than me. Way more experienced. He was exciting to be with. I was trying not to get overwhelmed unsure of what we were doing. We had been friends for such a long time. At the high school football games, county fairs, town events, Ronan kept the bad boys away from me when I was just a naïve teenager. I was never allowed to get into trouble if one of the Moore boys was around.
Granted I was twenty-one now, capable of making my own decisions and mistakes. What kind of a decision was taking Ronan Moore home? We didn’t talk while we drove to his apartment in Mt. Adams. It was a short drive from the club to his apartment in a city that sits high on the hills overlooking downtown Cincinnati.
We parked in the lot in front of his building and walked up three flights of stairs. Our footsteps the only sound on the iron and stone staircase. I was grateful I was on the ground floor in my own building closer to U.C. I wouldn’t want to do these steps every day.
He unlocked his apartment door and held it open for me to enter in front of him. I passed by him, my arm brushing his chest and turned waiting on him to enter behind me. We still didn’t talk as he dropped his keys on the table. No words were needed. I was beginning to get the picture. I knew what was going to happen unless I didn’t want it.
Ronan walked by me and went to the table where he turned on one light, a lamp by the sofa casting the living room in a muted, warm glow. Then he turned. He was four feet from me. Ronan stalked me across the room. He backed me against the door. My hands, he laid flat against the cool metal. His body pressed into mine so hard, I inhaled sharply.
My eyes met Ronan’s eyes. His were bleary from alcohol and maybe something more. I hesitated, questioning my sanity. I knew he wasn’t completely conscientious of what he was doing. His state of inebriation had lowered his inhibitions around me. That was pretty obvious. “You are fucking beautiful Skylar.”
Yeah, I was not stopping him now after that sexy as hell declaration. His hand slid up my bare belly and rested flat against my breast. Then he yanked the hem of my top up and over my head and tossed my shirt on the floor. “Stay with me tonight,” he groaned against the skin of my neck. His lips barely brushing across my collar bone.
“I will,” I responded with equal eagerness.
His fingers fumbled with my pants until he had them unbuttoned. Slowly, he unzipped them watching his fingers while I watched him. This didn’t seem real. I had somehow separated Ronan the man undressing me from the man who was one of my closest friends.
He slid my jeans down, they were caught on my high heels. He knelt at my feet and slipped my shoe off and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed on his coffee table. Then he helped me get my leg out of one pants leg while I balanced myself on one of his broad shoulders. He got rid of my other shoe and finally my jeans. He tossed my items of clothing wherever they landed. His hands slid up my bare legs causing me to tremble beneath his soft touch. He kissed my belly and I dug my fingers into his hair.
Ronan’s lips inched towards the waistband of my underwear and my heart galloped in my chest. His hands suddenly yanked them down my legs and I gasped. He didn’t stop what he was doing to look up and see if I was all right. He cupped my butt practically lifting my feet off the ground he buried his face between my legs and it was raw and dirty and I loved it.
His whiskers rubbed my inner thighs leaving burn marks against my fair skin. His tongue was sof
t and gentle then his whiskers were rough and exciting as he moved his face across my most sensitive skin. I was wiggling against his face; unable to stay still for the torment he was causing. My legs began to shake. I knew I was getting close to orgasm. Then I groaned and I mean I groaned loudly when Ronan slid his finger inside me to add to the chaos that he was creating in my body with his mouth.
I exploded in a flurry of throbbing, painful pleasure. He chuckled at my discomfort. I could barely stay standing on my feet. He rose towering over me.
I wanted to see him now. I yanked his shirt up but he had to help me get it over his head because he was so much taller than me. I ran my hands over his hard abs. His soft, hair covered pecs. His shirt joined my clothes. His shoes he kicked off somewhere. I didn’t notice or care. I was too busy checking him out. He was looking down at me again like he had never seen me before. He hadn’t at least not naked.
I reached behind and undid the hooks of my bra. The straps slowly slid down my arms until the bra hit the floor between us. He glanced down then he looked at my face. Ronan cupped my cheek in his big hand. His lips touched mine in a sweet, gentle kiss. Was he like this with every woman?
Suddenly Ronan scooped me up in his arms and staggered a bit. My back hit the door and I gasped at the coldness that met my bare skin. His lips bruised mine with a kiss that was both possessive and hard. “Last chance,” he whispered against my lips. One hand crushed my breast in his hard grasp, one hand held me firmly against him, gripping my ass.
“Take me to your bed.”
That was all he needed to hear. He carried me to his room. No lights. No remorse. No ceremony. Ronan tossed me on his bed. I bounced a little while I watched as he removed his jeans. He was hard like a Greek statue. Everything about him, not just his cock. He grinned at me. Then Ronan crawled across my body. His weight pressed me into the mattress. He was hard and thick and he was about to enter me.
I should have thought of condoms. I didn’t. I was looking into his pale, green eyes. Lost in their depths. Seeing only the raw lust in Ronan’s gaze. Wanting him as desperately as he wanted me. We had both lost all reason. Condoms, protection. Not even discussed.
