Ronin’s body covered hers and he kissed her temple. “You’re okay. You blissed out there for a second.”
“Oh.”
His heated breath drifted over her ear. “That was incredible. Thank you.”
“So I zoned out while you . . . ?”
“Came like a wild man?” he teased. “Yes. But, baby, that is the ultimate compliment.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Stay still and I’ll undo your hands.”
The way he untied her was as erotic as the way he tied them. With almost a loving touch.
You’re reaching. This isn’t love, just a case of supersized lust.
Then Ronin brought her onto the mattress and caressed her back. Not just with his fingertips, but with his whole hand. As if he couldn’t get enough of the curve of her spine, the edges of her shoulder blades, the breadth of her neck, the flare of her hips, and the roundness of her ass.
And Amery was so sated she didn’t ever want to move.
“Your skin is remarkable,” he murmured, and bent to kiss her shoulder. “Like ivory.”
“You mean sickly looking pasty white.”
“No, I mean like ivory. There aren’t many moles or freckles to mar the perfection.”
“That’s because I’ve spent most of my life avoiding the sun. I’ve had to slather on sunscreen every day since I was a little girl or else my skin turns cherry red. Then it blisters. Some of the kids I went to school with called me an albino.”
It’d bothered her during junior high, when everyone was at the city pool, playing in the water and soaking up the sun. On the rare occasions her parents had allowed her go to the pool, she’d had to sit in the shade, covered in SPF 75, which had been bad enough. But add to it that she had to wear a T-shirt over her one-piece swimming suit because of the congregation’s stance on modesty, and by age fifteen she’d stopped asking to go swimming with her friends.
“You tensed up. Why?” Ronin asked, zigzagging his fingertips across her lower back.
“Thinking about all the rules my parents set for me still has an impact on me, sad to say.”
“Why?”
“My dad is a minister. I grew up in a hard-core fundamentalist household. Anything fun was considered a sin and would be punished by God—or my father. My mom’s goal in life was to be the perfect minister’s wife. Her job was to make sure the minister’s children were examples of godly perfection in the eyes of the congregation and the community.”
“Were you the rebellious minister’s child?”
“No. I followed the rules, even when I didn’t agree with them, because it was easier than fighting with my parents. By age sixteen I counted down the days until I could be free of that life and that small town. I kept my grades up because I knew college would save me. And it did. My parents weren’t happy with my choice because I’d opted for a state school instead of a private Christian college. Even now I still struggle with acting bold, acting how I want to, when the girl inside me who abided by the rules for so many years tells me my actions and thoughts are morally wrong.” She wanted to hide her face after that confession. Would Ronin believe, as Tyler did, that she’d never be able to tackle those demons from her past?
“Seems family expectations can bog us down no matter how old we get.”
Tears sparked her eyes; he did understand.
“How’s your relationship with them now?”
She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Strained. I almost never go home. They repeatedly subject me to the I’ve forgotten all my family and Christian values lecture. You’d think they’d clue in that their shaming attitude about how I’ve chosen to live my life isn’t making me want to come home. But the kicker is, they’ve never visited me in Denver. Not once in six years. I rarely hear from my father directly—which isn’t all bad. My mother calls me maybe once a month, mostly to see if I’ve had a ‘come back to Jesus’ moment or if I’ve met a decent man. I always need a stiff drink after that conversation. Or during it.”
Ronin kissed her temple. “That’s got to be hard.”
“It is. But I don’t miss anything about that life or who I was expected to be.”
“You don’t seem to be carrying much baggage from the way you were raised.”
She laughed. “Wrong. I just hide it well. Or try to. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m still really modest.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Which is probably hard to believe since I’m lying here naked with you.”
“And we’ve sinned twice too.”
“My parents are probably holding a prayer vigil for me even as we speak.”
He laughed.
“Sorry about the weird pillow talk.”
“Don’t apologize. I want to know everything about you. Even the stuff that makes you uncomfortable to talk about.”
But that wasn’t a two-way street. He talked, but didn’t reveal much personally, only in the context of how it affected her. In response, she reverted to that “don’t ask questions” girl, because she feared if she pushed him to open up, he’d just walk away.
Do you really want to be involved with a man who keeps so much of himself to himself?
Yes. She’d take Ronin Black any way she could get him.
“This is totally off topic, but are you busy next Saturday night?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“There’s this Colorado Sports Banquet I’m supposed to go to.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. “I intended to skip it, but it might be tolerable if you went with me.”
Amery drew circles on his chest but didn’t look up. “As your date?”
“Are you surprised I want people to know we’re seeing each other?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure . . . what this thing is. If we’re just having fun or whatever.”
Ronin lifted her chin. “Should I be insulted you think I’m some fuck-around playboy?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m not involved with any woman, Amery, besides you. I haven’t been involved for quite some time.”
“Why not? You’re . . . perfect. Gorgeous, with a killer body, and you’re amazing in bed.”
He stared at her for so long she feared she’d said the wrong thing. “Because I don’t do this sort of thing.”
Was this his way of warning her this wouldn’t last? “What sort of thing?”
“Dating. And before you get all indignant, I said that because I want to continue this with you. It doesn’t feel casual to me.” His eyes searched hers. “Does it to you?”
“No. But if we’re going to be involved . . . or whatever . . . I need to know how long you’ve been enjoying casual sex. A guy doesn’t get to be an expert at anything without practice. Knowing what a sexual man you are, I doubt you’ve gone long without a woman in your bed.”
He rolled over to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve been selective as far as partners go. No woman lasted beyond two nights at the most. I’ve always worn condoms. I got a clean bill of health six months ago, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll get tested again.”
That was more information than she’d expected. “I’m on the pill, but I’ll get tested so we can ditch the condoms. But if we’re together, I want to make sure we’re exclusive.” For however long it lasts.
“You have my word.” Ronin rolled on top of her. “I’ll set up the appointments for Monday afternoon. We should have the results the next day.”
“That fast?”
“A guy owes me a favor.”
Wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and she wondered what Sensei Black had done to garner such a vast array of favors. “How far is this testing place from downtown Denver?”
“Across the river, over by me.”