Before Ronan can answer, I tilt my head farther back and raise up a little higher onto my toes until my mouth claims his. I catch his lower lip between my teeth, and he shudders against me.

His hands slide down, dropping off my hips and grabbing my ass, tugging me closer to him as the kiss deepens, capturing my hand between his body. I release his lip and slide my tongue into his mouth, plundering the interior while my left hand grinds against his cock. The fingers of my right hand clutch at his short hair, holding his head steady as I continue kissing him. I don’t know if it’s the booze I consumed in the bar or Ronan, but I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been before.

I love how my body feels all soft and pliant as it leans into Ronan’s hard planes. His lips are warm and delightfully firm beneath mine. I sweep my tongue over them, tasting the last remnants of his beer still clinging to his skin.

Ronan shifts slightly, pressing his knee between mine, parting my legs just enough to slip a thigh between them. Continuing to keep my hand pressed firmly to his cock, I rub myself against his rock-hard thigh, the sweet friction making me gasp against his lips.

Ronan’s grip on my ass tightens, his fingers digging into the soft fleshy globes as our tongues battle one another in a duel that’s as old as time.

Ronan groans. Smiling, I break the kiss and revel in the raggedness of his breathing. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s as turned on right now as I am.

“Hmm. One thing’s for sure, you really know how to kiss.” My fingers measure his length. The way our bodies are pressed together and the thickness of his uniform make it a little hard to tell, but it feels like he’s hung like a horse. My entire body hums with anticipation. Even fully clothed, he packs more punch than alcohol. “Based on the current evidence at hand, it seems like you’re coming around to my way of thinking.”

“Starting to,” Ronan says, his naturally low voice even lower.

“In that case—” I move both hands and start to undo the buttons that line the front of his uniform. “—I propose we move this part to the bed. What do you think?”

The look in Ronan’s eyes indicate he still has doubts, but he doesn’t raise any verbal objections as I push the jacket off his broad shoulders before picking up his hand. My pussy quivers. I’ve been flying solo for too long and, while there’s nothing wrong with that, it simply can’t compare to the feel of a man.

Threading my fingers through his, I lead Ronan across the dark room, using the thin shaft of moonlight that’s streaming through a gap in the blinds to guide me. I don’t stop until my knees bump into the side of the bed.

I turn to Ronan and smile. “We’re here.”

I release his hand and grasp the bottom of the white T-shirt he’s still wearing. “Now let’s get you out of these clothes.”

“Wait.” Ronan’s long fingers wrap around my wrists, stopping me before I can lift the hem. His gaze probes mine. “I’m still not sure that this is a good idea. You’ve been drinking and …” He clamps his lips closed, refusing to finish the thought.

“Most guys are practically begging to get into my pants. When I refuse, they call me a bitch, a tease, or an ice queen. They don’t care that I didn’t do anything to encourage them in the first place.” I tip my head to the side. I never thought I’d be in this position. “Yet you’re here trying to give me the brush-off.” A sudden thought pops into my mind and my stomach lurches. “Are you seeing someone, is that the issue?”

I’ve never been one for relationships, but the few times I have been in one, I remained faithful. And I’ve always taken a great deal of pride in the fact that I’ve never been the reason for anyone else’s relationship crashing and burning. The fact that I might be now makes me ill.

“God no.” As if sensing my sudden inner turmoil, Ronan releases my wrists. His arms sweep around me, one behind my shoulders, the other around my waist. He pulls me close in a tight hug. “I’m completely unattached.”

“Then what’s the problem? Right now, I want you. And this—” I rock my pelvis against his erection. “—says you’re ready and willing.”

He takes a deep breath and I hold mine. I can’t believe how much I want him. The way my body is buzzing, I might literally blow apart if he rejects me and walks out of this room.

Of course, if he’s any good at this and does stay, the results might be the same. That’s okay. I can think of worse ways to go.

“Oh, I want you,” Ronan says, his tone earnest. “More than anything I’ve ever wanted before. And that’s really saying something.”

My brow furrows. “So, what’s the hold up?”

I slide a glance at the bed. If we don’t make it there soon, if I don’t get Ronan’s hands on me, I’m going to self-combust.

Ronan heaves a huge sigh. He tears his gaze away from me and looks around the room. “I don’t know. On one hand, I can’t wait to feel you around me.”

I touch his chest. The heat seeping through the thin T-shirt he’s wearing practically singes my fingers. “And the other hand?”

Ronan closes his eyes for a second. “I don’t want to rush into anything. And you’ve been drinking. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

I bite my lower lip and consider his last statement. Maybe, just maybe, if I hadn’t spent the bulk of my adult life dealing with one jerk after another, I’d believe him, but that’s not the case. It’s far more likely that he’s worried that if we go to bed together that I’ll cry sexual harassment.

He doesn’t know that even if I did, none of the higher-ups at Northwest would even care. They’d treat the entire thing like some big joke, claiming it was nothing more than little Cassie trying to stir up trouble again.

I don’t care about any of that. The only thing I care about is that right now I want Ronan. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.

Desperate to make him understand that I know what I want and that he can stop yammering on about taking advantage of me, I use my left hand to gently stroke him, curving my fingers over the solidness of his erection, measuring his length and thickness through his uniform, boldly using the heel of my palm to massage him.

I grin as his cock swells beneath my ministrations. Pride surges through me, mixing with desire.

“Just a sample of what I’m capable of,” I whisper.

Ronan groans in response. His body shakes against mine.

“I’d almost be afraid of finding out what else you have up your sleeve.” He runs a hand up my bare arm. “If you were wearing any sleeves.”

“I just know this is going to come back to haunt me.” Ronan’s tone signals his capitulation just as clearly as the way he runs his hands up and down my sides, exploring my curves through my own uniform.

All but purring, I lean into his touch. I can barely remember the last time I invited a man into my room. I’d forgotten how good having my hands on one feels.

I continue rubbing my hand against Ronan. With a low roar, he spins me around and pushes me backwards onto the hotel bed. I hit the mattress so hard my shoulders bounce.

Ronan crawls onto the mattress. He catches my face between his hands, his fingers tangling in my hair as his mouth finds mine. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, teasing them apart as I thrust my pelvis against his and grab onto his shoulders, holding him tight as I completely lose myself in his feel, his taste.

Pressure, hot and violent, fills me. We haven’t even gotten started, and already I feel like I’m about to come. If this is the effect Ronan has on me, I probably won’t survive actually having sex with him. Still, there are worse ways to go.

Ronan breaks the kiss and turns his attention to my uniform. His hands fumble with buttons and tangle in the thick, ugly material. I turn my attention to the space where his neck and shoulder meet, nibbling and licking at the tendon and muscle, thrilling in how Ronan jerks and gasps each time my teeth graze his skin.

Finally, Ronan works my jacket, shirt, and skirt off my body, letting them fall to the floor beside the bed. Somewhere along the way, my shoes fell off, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He sits up and stares down at me, taking in the way the small shaft of moonlight plays over my long, lean body.

“Stunning,” he whispers, using the same tone that men usually reserve for when they’re talking about epic moments in sports or fancy muscle cars. He runs a hand along my stomach, leaving a wide path of heat and jumping nerves in its wake. “Absolutely beautiful.”

The scent of Ronan’s aftershave and clean male sweat fill my nostrils. I reach out and tug at the front of Ronan’s T-shirt. I lick my lips. “Don’t you think that one of us is way overdressed for this party?”

Ronan grins and reaches for the bottom of his shirt, but I catch hold of his hands.

“I don’t think so.” I push myself up until I’m kneeling on the bed, facing Ronan. “You got to undress me, it’s only fair that I get to strip you.”

Probably, he thinks I’m going to rip his clothing from him, the same way he did mine, but that’s not really my style. Whether it’s Christmas presents or a gorgeous man, I like to take my time, to savor the moment.

Ronan’s eyes darken, the pupils expanding as I slowly roll the bottom of his T-shirt upwards, revealing one inch of toned, tanned torso after another. First the deep lines where his abs and hip flexors collide. Than the hard, well developed ridges of his six-pack, then his powerful chest. By the time I slide the T-shirt over his head, my mouth is watering.

Hot damn, Ronan is built.

I toss the T-shirt to the floor. Ronan reaches for me, but I scoot out of the way.

I shoot him my best saucy grin. “Oh no, I’m not done with you yet. There’s a few more things I want to see before we start to play.”

Ronan’s hands curl into fists as I reach for his belt. Balancing on my knees, I shimmy closer, our breath and body heat mingling, our gazes colliding as I fumble with the buckle. It falls apart and I hook my fingers into Ronan’s waistband and jerk downward, sliding both the ugly uniform pants and the silk boxers he’s wearing under them off his hips. Ronan lifts far enough off the mattress for the material to slide down the length of his powerful thighs.

I toss the pants and boxers across the room and rock back on my heels, studying Ronan the same way he studied me.

After a second, he grins and reaches out to stroke my cheek. “Well, do I pass muster?”

The corners of my own lips twitch in response. “You’ll do.”