11. Nora

CHAPTER 11

NORA

T he past week been a blur, but I still managed to see Ronan every day. Every night he stays for dinner, or Leo and I go to his place. It ends with a walk and an hour of reading. It’s becoming routine, which Leo loves but I’m increasingly nervous about.

The two dinners we had with Bridget and her son, Gavin, have been the highlight of Leo’s week. Despite them playing against each other at Leo’s first match in a couple of days, they’ve become fast friends. I’m worried about a few conflicting days when I’ll be reporting on the club at the same time Leo will have his own matches. She’s also a working single mum, so she understands my struggle and has offered to help whenever she can until I get to know the other mums.

Ronan has also been helping Leo practise, fitting in a little too well with us. I haven’t stayed with him since our night together, which is almost worse. With the exception of an occasional stolen kiss, nothing has happened between us. I can’t shrug this off as purely physical when every moment we’ve spent together is so much more.

Cork losing today three to two makes it even harder. Keeping my composure in the press suite was one of the most difficult professional challenges I’ve faced. If I wasn't dating Ronan— or whatever we’re doing —it wouldn’t matter. I love this football club, and hate to see them lose.

Since joining the new premier league, they’re facing the best of the best in football. Players have been recruited from all over the world; it’s incredibly competitive. Cork is no longer the leading team in the Ireland league and they’ll have more losses in the future.

The men are visibly defeated, and now have to deal with the likes of me. Thankfully, it wasn’t a massive upset, and the last goal was scored in the last ten seconds of the game. Keith wasn’t able to stop it, no one could’ve. I’ve successfully avoided questions to Ronan and Keith the past few matches, but I’ll have to tonight.

When I’m called upon to ask my question, I clear my throat and do my best to keep my emotions buried. “Mr. O’Leary, you scored within the first three minutes of the match, can you speak to why the remainder of the game you only managed to touch the ball”—I check my notes—“four additional times the rest of the match?”

“Football is a team sport, Ms. Knightly.” Ronan’s jaw tics. “We played well today. We’ll play even better next match. Next question?”

Hands raise and the media relations assistant calls upon a journalist, Tim Clayton, from a local paper. “You mentioned last week that you have Sensory Processing Disorder, could that have affected your performance in today’s match.”

Ronan’s eyes are murderous, pinning Tim with a glare that if it were a knife would slice him in half. “No, Mr. Clayton. We will not win every match, and I alone am not responsible for a win or loss.”

“Mr. O’Leary will not take any further questions,” the assistant announces and Ronan rushes off in a huff.

My leg bounces as I attempt to contain my rage. I want to go after him, but I have to stay for Keith. The interviews will be recorded and aired locally tonight. A big part of me wants to use the information from them to post online for the network, and find Ronan.

I last exactly forty seconds before I’m out of my seat and leaving as discreetly as I can. When I get to the end of the row, a woman is blocking my exit and I tell her quietly that I need to use the toilet. Though she’s annoyed, she finally moves.

As I open the door, I only make it a foot before I collide with a wall of muscle. Whoever it is wraps me in a tight hug and the moment Ronan’s pine-scented cologne hits my nostrils, I hold him tighter. He sighs deeply and I have to ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

“No.” He pulls back and I notice there are a few people waiting in the hallway. All of them appear to be preoccupied, but hugging Ronan doesn’t look the least bit professional. I step back to give additional space between us and gesture with a nod in the opposite direction for him to follow me. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Away from prying eyes.”

In an instant, Ronan takes my hand and tugs me into a dark room. My bag falls to the ground, and I’m quickly sandwiched between the wall and his toned body, a ghost of a kiss tempting my lips. “I need you.” His words are breathless, sending a zing throughout my body.

“We can’t do this here,” I whimper, wanting nothing more than to touch him, taste him. “Someone might hear us.”

“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, Nor. I want the whole fucking world to know you’re mine.” I close the distance, pouring every ounce of myself into a soft, sweet kiss. It’s reckless and if someone were to walk in, I could never explain what’s happening as anything other than what it is. I’m not ready for the scrutiny, but I’ve also never wanted anyone the way I want Ronan. “What time do you have to get Leo?”

“Six,” I whisper against his lips.

“Come home with me.” It isn’t a question; it’s a desperate plea from a beautiful man I could never say no to.

“It depends.”

He trails kisses down to my neck, nipping at me before pulling back. “And what does it depend on, my little night owl? Because I’d give just about anything to have you to myself for the rest of the night.”

“The whole night?” I laugh. “I’m missing interviewing your goalkeeper right now. I’ll need to watch it online later so the network can include it in their reports. And Leo has a late practice.”

“ Fuck .” There’s a faint click of a lock. I can only make out his shadow and I shiver as he slides his hands up my thighs under my dress. “Are you already wet for me, darlin’?” His fingers trail along the seam of my panties, slipping two inside the fabric. Ronan glides them up and down my slick entrance and groans, “Fucking hell, Nor, you’re soaked.”

Falling to his knees, he drags my panties down my legs. I step out of them, and pointlessly protest, “This is a bad idea.”

“Just a little taste?”

He bunches my dress around my hips and slings my leg over his shoulder. I gasp and nearly lose my balance as he licks small, firm circles around my clit. I’m still unsure how we went from me going home with him to his face between my legs, but I selfishly can’t bring myself to stop him. Ronan could have any woman he wanted, and he’s on his knees for me. I can’t rationalise it, nor do I want to. I want him to take whatever he wants from me, even if it leaves me broken whenever this ends between us.

My moans grow louder and he chuckles against me, slipping two fingers with ease into my pussy. “If you’re not quiet, I’ll stuff these knickers in that sweet mouth of yours.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He abruptly stops and my moans become a whimper. There’s a shifting sound and then his lips are on mine. Heat builds in my core and I desperately want him to touch me again. “I’ll happily walk out of here with your hand in mine, and announce to the media that I’m yours, Nor. Since you’re not ready for that, open your mouth.” I do as he asks, and lacey fabric is draped between my lips. “Bite down, darlin’. Unless you want them to hear you scream.”

Ronan lowers to the floor and resumes teasing and licking, but without the same pressure as before. It’s driving me mad and at any moment someone could walk in here. My fingers tangle in his hair as I pull him closer, aching for release. He doesn’t make me wait long, giving me the friction I’m craving, and as he sucks hard on my clit, I shatter. The makeshift gag is essential, or the entire stadium would hear me cry out. My whole body is quivering and I finally release my hold on his hair. I have the urge to crumple to the ground, but Ronan stands and pulls me close, removing my knickers from my mouth, and kissing me softly.

“Can I bring you home now?” He stuffs the panties into his pocket. “You can have those back later. Won’t need them with what I have planned for you.”