Lara
Are we mates?
Joyce’s question hangs in the air. I risk a look at Casa, but he’s busy making a beeline for a bottle of whiskey he’s got sitting on a little table.
I’ve lived in Bradshaw long enough to know what mates are. I know exactly what shifters think of mates and I now for a fact that a guy like Ronan Casa wouldn’t be mated to a girl like me.
I’m too normal, too ordinary. I have way too many problems and issues and hang-ups to be good enough for a guy like that.
Still, Joyce’s question is enough to make me stop crying. Well, that and the hug she offers me, which is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time.
“Are you okay?” Joyce asks, and I sniffle, but manage to nod.
“I’m sorry. I was just surprised.” I look at Ronan, but his back is to me, so I look at his colleagues. “Um, hi.”
“Hello,” they say in unison.
“What did Ronan do to you?” One of them asks.
“He just said I didn’t have to pay him.”
“So you started bawling?” The other man asks, confused.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper, and I’m sure my face is a thousand shades of red. “People aren’t usually nice to me. It was a new feeling and I may have overreacted.”
The two men laugh and cross their arms over their chests, then turn to Ronan.
“Wow,” the one in the blue suit says. “You really know how to win a woman’s heart.”
“Shut up, Fee,” Ronan says. That means the other man, the one in the khakis and button-down, is Lyon. Through my tears, I make a mental note to try to remember this. If Ronan is actually taking my case, I’ll probably see his colleagues in the future when I come by to talk with him.
“Somebody’s touchy,” Lyon says. “I wonder if it’s because you made your mate cry. I mean, I’m no wolf, but that would make anyone upset.”
“Get out of my office,” he says, but his words hold no edge. Instead, he sounds tired, defeated. “Please,” he adds. “Just give me a moment with my client.”
To my surprise, Joyce kisses my forehead in a weird, motherly gesture, and quietly exits the room. Fee and Lyon don’t leave right away. Instead, they go to Ronan and put their hands on his shoulders.
“Are you okay, brother?” Lyon asks. “Is there anything you need from us?”
“It’s fine,” he assures them. “Thank you.”
After a second, the two men nod to me and they leave the room, closing the door behind them. The sound seems to echo and Ronan and I are left alone.
“I’m sorry I upset you,” he says, finally turning around. He’s got a glass of whiskey in hand and he takes a long sip. Then he offers it to me. I accept the glass and finish it. The liquor burns the entire way down, but I don’t mind. Not today. Not after the events of this afternoon. Not after I had a complete breakdown in front of my lawyer.
“You didn’t,” I say. “Not like that. It’s just that the past few weeks have been really hard. Your kindness was unexpected and I may have overreacted.”
He chuckles, but takes the glass from me and pours again. This time he sips more slowly, and while he drinks his whiskey, I take a moment to really look at Ronan.
He’s taller than me by a lot. That’s not hard because I’m actually quite short. This has always bothered me. I’ve always wanted to be taller, lankier, prettier. I’ve always wanted to be a more beautiful person than I am. Ronan is definitely the type of person I would describe as beautiful.
I bet he hates how pretty he is. It’s unfair that a man should be so nice to look at, but there you go. His hair is short and his eyes are dark, vivid. They’re this deep brown you could really get lost in, and I wonder how many hearts those eyes have broken.
Then there’s the rest of him.
His chest is broad and chiseled. Does her work out? Or is that just part of being a shifter? He fills out his shirt and pants. Oh, his pants. My eyes are drawn to his cock, which seems to be bulging. His dick is hard and I wonder, suddenly, if Joyce was right.
I wonder if he actually is attracted to me.
My eyes dart to his, and I’m surprised to see that he’s watching me.
“Are you done eating me alive with your eyes?” He asks, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Stop telling me you’re sorry,” he sets the whiskey down and takes a step toward me.
I back up.
“But it’s just that I-”
“Am really sorry,” he cuts me off. “Yes, I know. You’ve mentioned this several times.”
“What are you doing?” I take another step back and he takes another forward. Back and forward, back and forward. We move until I run into the wall and can’t move back anymore. Ronan keeps walking, though, until he’s completely invaded my space. He puts his hands on the wall over my head, essentially locking me in place. I can’t go anywhere now.
Not that I want to go anywhere.
I don’t want to go anywhere.
I just want to stand here and look up at him and enjoy the way he makes me feel because my body hasn’t been this turned on since prom night, and that was a very long time ago.
“What are you doing?” I ask again, but he doesn’t answer me. Instead, Ronan just looks at me.
“Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” He asks, leaning down. He whispers in my ear. “You’re perfect,” he says. “A damn feast.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I’m nothing special. I’m just normal.”
“There’s nothing normal about you, princess.”
“Why did you call me that?” I search his eyes, looking for answers, but he doesn’t give me any. He just keeps watching me, staring at me like he really is going to eat me alive, only I’m not scared. I feel like I should be. I should be scared, afraid of Ronan. I should be worried about being alone in a room with a man – a shifter – who has been drinking, but I’m not.
Somehow, I feel safe around him.
Somehow, I feel like everything is going to be okay around him.
“It just seems fitting,” he says. “You’re like a little fairy: a fairy princess. You’re tiny and curvy and cute. You’re sweet. You’re adorable. And I want you,” he adds, kissing my ear. “I want you so bad that it hurts. I shouldn’t want you this bad. I’m no good for you.”
Ronan wants me.
He doesn’t just want to be around me, to get to know me. He wants to fuck me. He wants to devour me with his body and right now, that’s what I want, too. This feeling, this desire is overwhelming. It’s not something I’ve ever felt so strongly before and suddenly, I feel like I’m going to die if Ronan doesn’t touch me.
I want his hands on me. I want his mouth on me. I want all of him on me.
This is the part where I usually run away.
I should push him away and flee. I should run back to my house and hide and be safe and alone and isolated. I should do what I’ve always done and go be by myself. I should do that.
I should do that right now.
But suddenly, I don’t want to do what I’ve always done.
Suddenly, I want to be brave.
Suddenly, I want everything that Ronan wants, and I want it more.
So instead of running, I look in his eyes as I reach out and grip his cock through his pants.
“I want you, too,” I whisper, and his mouth comes crashing down on mine.