Page 29 of Ronny

“You know, if determination could make me pregnant then I think I would be for sure.”

He gently slips out of me, and I wince slightly, causing his eyes to narrow. “I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“Ronny, I’m not used to this, and I will be sore until I adjust. Plus, I quite like the idea of walking around feeling you with every step I take tomorrow at work.”

His dick hardens just like that. “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He groans and I giggle at his reaction.

He walks into the bathroom, my eyes glued to his ass cheeks. You could bounce a quarter off them, I’m totally jealous.

I stretch out my sore muscles and the exhaustion hits me from the long day. My body feels like mush, and I can’t remember a time when I have ever been so relaxed.

I try to fight the urge to yawn as Ronny walks back from the bathroom carrying a washcloth.

I’m confused when he spreads my legs open and then cleans me. I swallow hard to try to stop the emotions from getting the best of me.

He kisses my forehead and drags the blanket up from the bottom of the bed, covering me and tucking me into bed as he goes around the room to blow out all of the candles until it’s dark. Then he slips in beside me, dragging me over to his chest. I snuggle into him, he is so warm.

“Good night, my girl,” he tells me, and I tighten my arms around him, not wanting to ever leave this spot.

“Good night.” I kiss his chest right over his heart.

7

RONNY

I wait for her breathing to even out, holding her tight and not wanting to let her go yet. I accepted the fact a long time ago that this part of our relationship could possibly not happen.

But it did.

She gave me the ultimate gift: her trust, the part of her that she was terrified to give, and she did it without an ounce of fear in her eyes. I watched her every move to make sure she didn’t slip into the fear.

Not once did that fear flicker in her eyes. I’m so fucking proud of her, of how she put in the work so we can be together.

Fuck me.

I push my nose into her hair, breathing in her scent, and I’m so fucking thankful she is mine.

She is my woman, my heart, and my ole lady, and one day I’m going to marry her ass and have her waddling around with my child in her stomach. I grin into the dark room at the thought of seeing her like that.

I clench my eyes closed, dropping my smile. Trying not to get ahead of myself, but I want it all with Olivia. The urge to protect her, to make sure nothing ever touches her again, is overpowering.

I never understood growing up why the men in my life—my uncles and my own dad—would go to such extremes to protect what they call theirs.

One single look from her, scared, looking at me like I’m her savior, I understand why. I understand the things I would do to protect her. I would sit my ass in jail for the rest of my life if it meant I never saw that flicker of fear in her eyes.

I’m not scared of anything but that fearful look in Olivia’s eyes, it makes me want to fucking puke and kills me to my soul.

I don’t trust anyone with her but my family and her dad. Every person beside that? I don’t trust them. She has been failed by so many people in her life and I would die trying to prevent it from happening again.

She mentioned her mother, about checking up on her. My skin is crawling at the fact that this woman could have an open door to involving herself. Her mother failed her, she chooses everyone and everything over her daughter. Those old wounds could hurt; she could hurt her, and I don’t like those odds.

I growl under my breath, hating that thought, but I know stopping Olivia and taking away her wishes is not something I would do.

She lets out a deep sigh, turning her face into my chest and throwing her leg farther over both of mine, dragging herself closer to me like she is trying to crawl inside of me.

Her breathing is even, deep, and I know she is fast asleep. I drag the blanket farther up her body, tucking her in and kissing the top of her head softly so I don’t wake her up.

Fucking wrecked.

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