Kiss My Cupcake(62)

“You’re coming back to my place after we close tonight, right?”

I cock a brow.

“Or we can go to yours if that’s better. Or closer,” he adds.

“Are you saying you want more of this?” I motion to my lips.

The music has started again and there are patrons clamoring for drinks, but Ronan holds a finger up in their direction and leans in close so his lips are at my ear again. “I want all of this. Repeatedly. And while my office has a door that locks, I’m not sure I’ll give my best performance in there.”

“Mmm. Good point. Your place it is.”





chapter sixteen





Ringing in the New Year


Ronan



It’s after three in the morning by the time we get an Uber back to my place. I usher Blaire inside, lock the door, and turn around.

She’s standing in the middle of my front hallway, still wearing the steel-toed boots I forced on her because there was no way I was risking her twisting an ankle behind the bar, which was where I wanted her. Right beside me all night long. Not on the floor where she’d get hit on relentlessly by drunk assholes.

It might sound chivalrous. It’s not—my motives were purely self-serving.

She clasps her hands in front of her, looking demure and sexy in her fireworks dress with black and plaid accents. We matched, of course. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. I kissed her lipstick off hours ago and she didn’t bother to reapply, mostly because there was no time.

“Do you want something to drink?” My voice is rough like sandpaper.

Her brow furrows for a moment, as if she finds the question confusing. “Do you?”

I take a few steps in her direction. “Not particularly, no, but I figured I should be hospitable and offer rather than just attack you with my mouth and hands.” And parts below the waist.

“Hmm.” She taps her lip, a playful smile on those luscious lips of hers. “Water for hydration purposes might be a good idea, but that can probably wait until after you attack me with your mouth and hands.” Her eyes move down my chest in a slow, hot sweep. “And other parts, hopefully.”

We are so on the same page. And then we’re on each other.

Blaire loops her arms over my shoulders and links her hands behind my neck, pulling my mouth to hers. I grip her waist and walk her backward through the short entryway, careful not to bump into the side table on the right. The bedroom seems too far away, so I swipe a hand blindly across the kitchen counter, knocking a few things out of the way before I lift her up and deposit her on top.

The kiss slows for all of two beats, and then we’re right back at it, full force, teeth clashing, tongues battling, moaning into each other’s mouths. Blaire tugs my shirt free from my pants, then starts on the buttons while I search the back of her dress for a zipper. All I find is smooth fabric.

She breaks the kiss long enough to say, “Hidden zipper.”

I pull back, because that makes no sense. “What?”

“It’s hidden.” She abandons my shirt and pushes on my chest, forcing me back. I’m about to protest, but she reaches under her skirt and MacGyvers her poofy under-skirt thing off, tossing it on the floor. Then she grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me between her legs again.

I start feeling up and down her spine, in search of this hidden zipper. I finally find one, but it’s tiny and I keep losing my grip on it.

“How do you get the zipper down?” I mumble around her tongue.

“Don’t worry about it, all the important parts are easily accessible.” She hikes the skirt of her dress higher, trying to shift the fabric out of the way.

I pull back so I can see her in the dimly lit kitchen. The lamp on the other side of the living room is weak, and the hall light leading to my bedroom is on a dimmer switch, set to low.

“I would like the full experience here, not just access to what’s between your thighs.” I motion to her crotch. “I mean, I definitely want that, but I plan to explore every last inch of you in the process.”

I have every intention of devouring her, but I’d like to do that while also savoring the experience. I take my time unzipping the dress—actually, the tiny zipper tab is a pain in my ass, so half the slowing down is forced because it’s a struggle and I’m determined to be the one to undress her, on my own, without her help.

I finally manage the zipper situation, but there’s a freaking hook thing, too, which means more struggles on my end.

She chuckles against my lips, sucking on the bottom one. I finally unclasp it, but instead of removing the dress I delay my own gratification and hers. It’s like unwrapping the best, belated birthday present.

I pull the bodice down, freeing her arms to reveal her bra. I let out a low, appreciative whistle. Under the dress with the gold and black plaid accents she’s wearing a black bra with red and gold plaid accents. I’m willing to bet the panties match, because this is Blaire we’re talking about and her wardrobe is always meticulously planned. I lift her skirt so I can take a peek. Yup, they totally match, which begs the question, “Were you planning to seduce me tonight?”

Her brow furrows. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because…” I run my hands up her thighs, warm and soft, bunching up the skirt, exposing more skin as I do. I savor the feel of her under my hands, the way her breath stutters when I skim the edge of her panties with my fingertips. “This bra and panty set looks like it was picked out with me in mind.”