“I’m very easy to work with,” I countered. He shoved his hand under the waistband of the sweats I was wearing, making a fist around my cock. “An utmost professional.”
“Sure you are.”
“When there’s not a hand in my pants.”
He squeezed me so tight I saw stars, doubling over and dropping my forehead against his shoulder. Ronan chuckled in my ear, releasing me and taking his hand out of my pants.
“Do you remember when we decided things were going to be serious between us?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me and holding my body against his.
I made an affirmative noise and settled into his embrace. He still smelled like the hospital, but I could smell our soap beneath the latex and disinfectant, the tang of his sweat and our laundry detergent as well.“I do.”
“I told you this couldn’t be a 24/7 thing,” he said.
“I know.”
“And you agreed.”
“I did.” I tensed, straightening and leaning back so I could see Ronan’s face. He looked more at peace than he had in weeks and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for him, dragging my fingers over the sharp slashes of his cheekbones.
“I think…” Ronan closed his eyes and tipped his head to the side, leaning into one of my hands. I could see the tiredness in the lines around the corners of his eyes and I was overwhelmed with the urge to take him to bed. “I think that is the part that really needs a renegotiation.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“I think…” He kissed the palm of my hand. “I think it’s the next logical step.”
“What?” I scoffed.
“24/7,” he said.
“Ronan.” I climbed off his lap, circling around the coffee table so I could get a better look at this man who had clearly lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”
He sighed.“Do you disagree?”
“Vehemently.”
“What does 24/7 mean to you?” he asked, shifting his weight on the couch. His cock pointed toward the ceiling, tenting the front of his scrubs.
“Like, collars and silence and…” I trailed off, flailing my hands around as if they could somehow demonstrate the words I wasn’t able to find.
“It doesn’t have to be like that. I know we agreed it wouldn’t be like that, but I think part of the issue is I’ve been trying to separate our sex from our life, and…” Ronan frowned and shrugged. “I can’t.”
“I’m not following.”
“Will you sit?” He pointed at the table where I’d been when we started talking. “You’re making me nervous with the flailing and the pacing.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, sitting on the edge of the table closest to the couch. I pinched my hands together between my knees and gave him what I hoped to be a reassuring smile.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he said.
“Clearly.”
“Will you listen?” Ronan looked at me, his mouth twisted in doubt.
“Fine.”
Ronan arched a brow.
“Yes, Ronan.”
