Page 125 of Release Me

French Braids tips her head back and belts out a laugh that seems far too big for her petite body. “I’m sure he’ll do well.” And, as much as I want to, I can’t begrudge him for succeeding. At least I’ve got him for the summer.

“The real test will be next weekend when we open to the public.”

“Nextweekend?” I groan. “Already?” I’ve been so busy juggling things and worrying, I’ve lost track of entire days.

Ronan chuckles. “There’ll be a lot of activity this week ahead of it. Media and stuff. It’s a real circus.” A pause. “Your favorite guy’s coming in tomorrow.”

There’s only one person he could be talking about. “I’ll be sure to make a welcome sign for him. I’m kidding,” I quickly add when Ronan’s expression falls. “A deal’s a deal.” Ronan did me a huge favor before he—literally—fucked me.

“It is.” Rough hands slip under my shirt to seize my hips, spinning me around.

My breath catches on a sharp inhale, and no doubt Ronan hears it. “What are you doing?”

“I also made a deal with Henry and Belinda.” He steps in closer to me until his body brushes against my backside. “Actually, no, that’s not accurate. It wasn’t a deal. More like a demand. They told me to stay away from you.”

“Me?” My voice is breathless as hot palms smooth over my skin, rubbing back and forth. I’ve never met either of them, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure outwhyHenry Wolf and the hotel manager might insist on that. “Why? Do you have a reputation fornotstaying away?”

“Some may say that. Belinda promised me she’d fire my ass if I laid a finger on you.” He confesses this as he laysmanyfingers on me, toying with the strings that keep my bottoms from tumbling to the floor.

It dawns on me. “Isthatwhy I haven’t heard from you?” Because he broke Henry Wolf’s strict rules about fucking the crazy rooster commune lady?

“Partly, yes.”

I bite my bottom lip, struggling against the urge to ask what other parts there might be to that answer—he did say he’s in a “weird place,” whatever that means. “And what happens if he finds out?”

Ronan steps closer until his erection is pressed against the small of my back. “I’ll likely lose my job.”

“Your big fancy director’s position?” I manage a whistle, even as I’m about to choke on my pounding heart. “You’d risk that forthis?”

“Foryou?” His breath skates. A heavy sigh sails into my ear. “Apparently, yes, seeing as I can’t keep my hands to myself whenever I’m around you.”

Something sparks in my chest—an odd, warm feeling that hasn’t existed there in a long time, not since Cody killed it.

“I need to know something,” Ronan murmurs.

“What’s that?”

I’m expecting a question, so I gasp with shock when instead of words, Ronan’s hand slips under the seam of my bikini and between my thighs, his fingers tracing my slit with a gentle stroke.

“Thought so.”

All other thoughts vanish as Ronan’s middle finger slides deep into me, to discover a truth I can’t hide there—that I’m insanely attracted to him.

His capable hand moves at a languid, teasing rhythm, his thumb drawing lazy circles over my clit.

It takes every effort for me to pretend I’m simply standing here, observing the merry band of revelers as they splash and drink and toss the football while Ronan finger-fucks me. Icannot believeI’m allowing this to happen out here in public, with peopleallaround us. And within ten minutes of being left alone with him.

“Relax. No one can see anything,” he purrs.

“You think I’d let you do this if they could?” I’ve offered no resistance to his invasion because he’s right. The tiki bar walls surrounding us are high enough to hide what Ronan is doing. There’s a swinging section to fully close off the bar—not likeTikiTwo, which has a wide-open passageway between the two sides. The thatched roof hangs low, providing ample protection from the helicopter flying above. Out there, everyone and everything is on display, but in here, it’s a shady, protected refuge.

As long as his friends don’t climb back up for a drink, or they’ll get a show they didn’t pay for.

All these thoughts are flying through my mind and yet, I can’t find the words to tell him to stop.

Because Idon’t wanthim to.

“I wish I could fuck you right here,” he whispers, voicing the words that were just flittering through my overloaded brain.

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