Page 85 of Ronan

“Like girls, too?”

“Oh,” he says in surprise, then gives a slow nod. “Yes. Anatomy doesn’t matter to me as much as—”

“Someone’s ability to be around you without screaming and pulling their hair out?” I interrupt, and he chuckles.

“Yes, exactly that. How did you guess?” When he glances at me, it’s full of affection. “Ass.”

“Hey, you picked me.”

“My sanity is to be questioned, there’s no doubt,” he says, and I wiggle my eyebrows at him as he grins. “What about you? Do I need to be ready to fight off these imaginary girls when you find a motorcycle?”

“Much prefer the wiener to the bun,” I say, a grin spreading across my face as his groan sounds like a dying animal.

He changes the subject, gesturing through the trees to where the trickle of running water cascades through the dry leaves. “There’s a creek where we can wash.” His jacket and shirt join the growing pile of clothes on the hood. As he lowers his pants, my loud squeal startles a few birds into flight.

“What is it?” Ass hanging halfway out, he stands tall and positions himself to fight.

“You’re wearingthem,” I whisper in reverence, and he glances down before finding my eyes with a playful grin. He slides his pants off, standing before me wearing only the tighty-whities that cling to him like a second skin.

“Why are they so sexy on you?” He shrugs and nods towards my pants, and I strip obediently. My boxers are a size too big and hang loosely off my body, wrinkled frombeing shoved inside my pants all day. “I feel so inferior right now,” I whine, twisting so he can see the fabric sagging off my butt.

A low purr rumbles from his chest as he grips the elastic, exposing my bare ass before letting it snap against my skin. I yelp when his palm hits my cheek in a tap. “You could always just go without,” he teases, strutting to the van as I watch his muscles flex inside those briefs.

Fuck, that shouldn’t be so sexy.

After he grabs soap, a bowl, and a towel, he leads me to the stream that babbles through the trees. My eyes drop between his legs as he crouches, his cock making the perfect bulge against the white fabric.

Don’t get horny in the strange woods, don’t get horny in the strange woods,I chant on repeat in my mind as my dick turns rebellious and starts to harden.

Ronan stands after filling the bowl and pours it over his skin, oblivious to my fascinated staring. Water cascades down his body, a glistening sheet of liquid that diverts when it meets the definition of his muscles. Rivulets drip from his elbows as he scrubs his palms over his face, and I’m struck again by how painfully beautiful he is.

My eyes drop lower, where water catches the material of his underwear, turning nearly translucent as the dampness spreads. A second pour rushes over his head, soaking the fabric until it highlights every inch of what’s trapped behind those ridiculous briefs. “Oh, come on!” I wail, and his eyes land on mine in question before dropping to my crotch with a sly smile.

“Where’s your mind at, Cam?” Heat burns in my core as he fills the bowl again, prowling closer before pouring the chilly water over me. It cools my skin,wrenching a groan from my throat and washing away the stickiness from sitting in that sweltering vehicle for so many hours. My damp boxers hang low on my hips with the added weight, and suds cover his hands as he stares at the tent underneath.

A pathetic whine escapes me as I wait, but he doesn’t touch me.

He gives me a show.

His soapy palms run over his arms and chest, and I don’t miss the way his cock flexes when he brushes over his nipples. Lower, he scrubs over his abs, then, with his eyes never leaving mine, his hand disappears into his underwear. The fabric moves as he strokes himself beneath it, gliding along his length under the cover of the white material.

It’s fucking obscene.

Somehow, having it hidden from view only makes it that much hotter. The muscles in his abs strain as he flexes forward, thrusting into his fist, and I’m half feral as I watch. Pulses of need thrum through my body, and my cock leaks inside my boxers, fixated on the display.

When he finally rinses himself off, his erection is barely contained, pinned against his hip with his knot swollen. Soap swishes between his palms again as he steps into my space, a predatorial gleam in his eyes.

“What’s got you wound so tight?” he asks, leaning forward and dragging his lips along my jawline as he moves his hands down the front of my body. “What could you possibly be thinking about right now?”

I can only whimper as he tugs the waist of my boxers away from my hips. “That pretty little cock is so hard, Cam. Do you need me to do something about that?”

“Please?” I whisper, and his eyes snap back to mine.

“If you’re begging, you must really need it, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” My hips give a stuttered jerk forward. “Ro, it hurts.”

“Shh, I’ll take care of you,” he soothes, and I watch, transfixed, as he reaches into his underwear and strokes himself, lubing his hand until it shines. “I bet you taste like a dream.” His slicked hand leaves a wet trail on my skin as it moves down the back of my boxers. Fingers sliding between my cheeks, he presses a fingertip against my hole until it slides inside me. My body clenches, instinct pushing him out as I whine, but he only thrusts deeper, stretching a second in almost immediately.

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