Page 24 of Trouble Walked In

“Then fucking say it, Moira. Tell me who this pussy belongs to! Tell me who owns this fucking body,” he commanded, out of breath as he continued to slam into her relentlessly.

She moaned as another orgasm tore through her. “You do! It's yours. Fuck. For as long as you want it, it's yours. Just don't stop fucking me!”

He released her hair and anchored his hands on her waist once again. Ronan continued to fuck her, his pace merciless, until she fell apart around him once more, screaming so loudly her voice went hoarse. Only then did he allow himself to let go, coming inside her.

Together, they collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs. Moira had never felt so sated. She had never been so exhausted either. He really hadn't been kidding when he said he wouldn't go easy on her.

Ronan rubbed a hand over her hip and, though out of breath, said, “Goddamn.”

She laughed, for lack of a better response and then tried to right herself on the bed so she could stretch out.

With a little groaning and complaining, they managed to eventually make it under the covers. She was tucked up against his side, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion, when he finally asked, “Did you mean it?”

She didn't even pretend to misunderstand his question. “It's a lot to take in, but...I think so.”

“Take your time, love,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her brow. “You don't need to make any decisions right this second. It's enough for me to know you're not ruling anything out.”

There was that word again. Love. Was that even possible at this point? Right now, when she was curled into his side, enjoying the feel of his fingers running up and down her spine, she supposed it could be. She wondered if that feeling would last in the light of day.

****

Moira wiped off one of the newly vacated tables, and then tossed the empty bottles into the recycling. Though it was pretty early, the bar was already packed. This life she'd been living recently might be a little different than what she had originally planned for herself, but she couldn't remember being happier. Tonight, she was going to tell Ronan that she loved him. It had only been a few weeks, but she knew. Tonight, she'd tell him that she wanted him to claim her.

She wouldn't let the looming threat of her father bring her down. He'd been subtly harassing them in small ways. She was tired of being afraid, though. Moira just wanted to live her life. And no matter what that life turned out to be, she was certain that she wanted Ronan in it.

With a grin, she slid behind the bar. Leaning over, Moira dug at the back of the cooler until she located the bottles she was looking for. She gave a squeal when she felt Ronan grab a handful of her ass. She stood up and teased, “That's sexual harassment!”

“Only if you don't want it, baby,” he replied, grinning back at her. He lowered his voice and added, “And we both know you want it.”

Moira shot him a coquettish look from under her lashes and asked, “I've got a break coming up soon. You gonna give it to me?”

With a groan, Ronan let his eyes cruise up and down her body slowly, taking in every inch of her. His eyes filled with promise, he said, “You're gonna need more than a half hour for what I've got in mind.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ty piped up from a few feet away. “Get a room, you two. Much more of this and I'm gonna need a cold shower!”

“Sorry, Ty,” she apologized. “Your Ms. Right will come along one day.”

Ty snorted. “Shit. I'll settle for Miss Right Now, thank you kindly.”

Moira rolled her eyes, popped off the lids, and then sidled around the end of the bar to drop off her drinks. As she reached her table, the door to the bar opened, blinding her momentarily. When she was finally able to focus again, her world began to crumble.

Two police officers immediately approached her. One of them asked, “Moira Devereaux?””

“Yes,” she said hesitantly, setting down the beers. “Can I help you?”

The police officer reached out and took her arm. Carefully, he said, “I'm Officer Ramirez. This is my partner, Officer Thomas. We're with the Lorelei PD. Miss, you're going to need to come with us.”

The whole bar went deadly quiet with the exception of the jukebox.

“But, why? I haven't done anything wrong.” She attempted to pull her arm out of his grasp. Her heart sank when his hand locked around her wrist. This had her father written all over it.

“It's been brought to our attenti

on that you're a possible danger to yourself and to those around you. The State of Florida Statute 394 requires that you submit yourself for psychiatric testing and evaluation.”

“Wait a minute,” Ronan said, coming around the bar. “What the hell are you talking about? A danger to who? This is my bar. You can't just—”

“No,” she shouted, trying to wrench her arm out of his ever tightening hold. “I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't need any exam.” She looked to Ronan and added, “This has to be my father.”

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