Chapter 2

2

ROXIE

I stare after him as he climbs the stairs, room key dangling from his fingers. My own fingers tingle with the echo of his touch, my whole body burning. His long legs carry him quickly up the stairs, his footsteps quiet despite the fact he’s made of muscle. He has to be over six foot, and strong as hell judging by the way his biceps strained against his shirt, not that I was looking.

Okay, I was definitely looking. In my defense, he’s the hottest fucking man I’ve ever seen. I’m just happy I didn’t drool and make a total fool of myself.

Men like that don’t stop in a town like this. Sunflower Springs is the definition of a small town. Everyone knows everyone and strangers don’t stay long. Which begs the question, why is he here at all? Where did he come from, where he didn’t get news of the storm? Where is he going?

He only has one bag with him that looks nearly empty, and his clothes are plain black, giving nothing away. Curiosity burns through me, even as I try to distract myself, fiddling with stationary and flicking through files without taking in any of the information.

Thanks to the furious storm, there’s nobody else in the bed and breakfast except him and me. A fact I’m keenly aware of because it means there are basically no tasks to do to distract myself from it.

I fight the temptation for a good twenty minutes before I give in. I open a new internet browser and type in his name.

Ronan Ross.

My mouth drops open as my eyes lock onto the first search result. It’s a newspaper article from a year ago, titled: Entrepreneur Sentenced to a Year in Prison for Assault Resulting in Injury .

I click the link before I even register what I’m doing. I try to convince myself that it’s because I want to make sure I’m safe and not trapped here with someone dangerous, but in truth, I just need to know everything about him. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to think he’s the kind of man who’d hurt someone for no reason. I don’t know him, but weirdly, some deep part of me feels like I do. Like I’m meant to.

I read the article at a fast pace, devouring the information. He sent a man to hospital needing stitches, with a broken nose, two broken ribs, and deep bruising. But he did it because he was protecting someone. According to the article, Ronan stumbled across a man attempting to assault a woman outside one of his bars and stepped in. The court found that he used excessive force , but I can’t help but think he did exactly what was necessary.

There’s an odd fluttery feeling in my stomach that I’ve never felt before, a tingle of excitement on my skin, as I scroll to finish reading. At the bottom of the page is a photo of his mugshot. His eye is swollen, but he’s smiling, looking entirely unapologetic and hot as fuck.

“Not the most flattering photo I’ve ever taken.”

I jump out of my skin, spinning on my feet with wide eyes. Ronan is standing behind me, eyebrow raised as he looks between me and the computer screen.

“I … uh … well…” I fumble to find any words that don’t make me look more guilty. But it’s too late. I’ve been caught staring at his damn mug shot like some sort of obsessed stalker.

Ronan bursts out laughing, the sound warm and dark and making me flush from the inside out. The lights flicker, and the computer screen goes dark.

“Are you scared of me now, Roxie?” Ronan asks, his attention fully on me. I’ve never felt this seen in my life. Like he’s looking through the good girl facade that this entire town has made me wear, right into the depths of my soul.

“I’m not scared,” I tell him honestly. I’m trapped under his gaze, unable to look away, unable to do anything but tell the truth. I have to remind my lungs to take in air, have to remember how to form words. “I feel safe. Clearly, you’re the kind of man who would do anything to protect someone who needed it.”

Ronan’s eyes flash as surprise and curiosity cross his face. His eyes flick down, scanning my body, before returning to my face. “You sure about that, sunflower?” he asks, his voice as low and powerful as the rolling thunder outside. “Your breathing is choppy and your eyes are wide. You look a little afraid to me.”

My spine straightens at that. I don’t want him to look at me and see the same meek, innocent girl everyone else sees. I’m sick of living for others' expectations of me. Because I’m not scared. I’m so far from scared it’s laughable. And I want to prove it.

I step closer to Ronan, our arms brushing and my chest nearly touching his with each breath. He’s taller than me, so I have to tip my head back to hold his eyes. “My entire life, everyone thought I was nothing more than the innocent, obedient pastor’s daughter. They told me what I should do, what I should feel. Don’t do the same, to me Ronan. Believe me when I say that it’s not fear I feel for you,” I admit, shivering as the back of his hand rubs mine.

He groans low in his throat, and I instantly want to hear that sound again.

“I promised myself that I’d be good now that I’m out,” he murmurs. “And corrupting a pastor’s daughter is not good .”

Even as he says it, his hand skims my waist, sending sparks through me. The storm is raging outside, but I can barely hear it over the wild thumping of my heart. My breasts brush his chest as I try to find any air, my mouth watering as I breathe in the earthy, dark scent clinging to him.

“I’m tired of being good,” I whisper, my hand pressing against his chest, needing to touch him. “Being bad sounds like so much more fun.”

He moves so fast I barely process what’s happening. I’m weightless for a second, then his mouth is on mine and something clatters as he sets me down on the edge of the desk. His hand fists my hair, tilting my head back as he deepens the kiss. I clutch at him, my hand bunching the fabric of his t- shirt, lost in the feeling of his mouth on mine. I feel like I’ve been struck by the lightning flashing outside, my whole body lighting up, my mind spinning as heat strokes through me. I moan against his mouth as his tongue finds mine. The kiss is all-consuming, dizzying, and if this is what being bad feels like, I never want to be good again.

Ronan’s other hand settles on my thigh. The skirt of my dress has bunched up from our movement, and I’ve instinctively parted my legs so he can stand between them, needing him close. His thumb strokes sensitive flesh, touching, edging higher up my leg. He moves slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to, but all I want is for him to keep going.

“Oh —” I gasp when his fingers softly skim between my legs, my skirt fully bunched up around my waist now. The lace of my panties feels like no barrier at all, soaked with my desire. That small touch sends me reeling, and I have to brace my hands on either side of my thighs on the desk to keep myself upright.

“My sunflower’s so wet for me,” Ronan groans, sounding feral at the fact. I whimper as his fingers pull the crotch of my panties to one side, knuckles skimming over the naked center of me, flesh against flesh. “I need to see you come for me, Roxie. I fucking need it.”

I need it too, but I’m too lost in the feeling of what he’s doing to me to figure out how to form words. He slides a finger inside me, and my head falls back on my shoulders as I shudder. His thumb circles my clit and my eyes roll back in my head. I didn’t know I could feel like this. I get the feeling, though, that nobody else in the world can set me on fire the way Ronan does so easily. The way I’m feeling, it’s all him. There’s no denying it, my body and soul are screaming the fact as he drives me closer and closer to the edge.

“Ronan!” I scream out, louder than the thunder and lightning and pouring rain. Bliss runs through my veins as I shatter beneath his touch.

I’m breathing hard, the world blurry around the edges, as I stare up at him. Our eyes meet for a long, heated second, his gaze dark and full of lust, and then we’re plunged into darkness.