“I’ll make it up to you.” I cross over to her and press a kiss to her forehead. “You look beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but her cheeks pinken as I softly trace my finger along her jaw.
“Last night was fun. I was planning on another round this morning, but seeing as you left me to wake up alone…”
I let my finger trail down her neck, and Ciara shivers under my touch, her eyes already glazing over.
Before I can even consider ripping my shirt off her body, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes through the house, and I curse under my breath.
“I swear, my brothers know no boundaries.”
Ciara laughs, poking me in the stomach. “You love them, really.”
“I don’t love them as much as I love fucking you.”
“Ronan!” Ciara glances past me at the open kitchen door.
“Maybe if they hear you climax, they’ll decide to leave.” I lean in to kiss her neck.
“You are insufferable. You can’t use orgasms as a way of getting out of talking to your brothers.”
“Try me,Tine Bheag.”
“Go.” She laughs, pushing against my chest.
I groan but decide it’s probably best to take care of whichever one of my brothers has decided to grace me with their presence so early in the morning.
When I head into the foyer, Stephen is opening the door, and on the other side stands my uncle Lorcan instead.
I halt in my tracks, not liking the way his eyes are scanning the expansive entryway, as if he’s assessing the place.
“Looking for something?” I don’t bother hiding the irritation in my tone.
Ever since my father’s death, Lorcan has been completely MIA. I might have taken over as head of the family, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still an integral part of this business.
Perhaps he thinks I would turn it down and offer him the position instead…
If that’s the case, I guess he doesn’t know me very well. I never turn my back on hard work.
"Morning," he glances at Stephen and frowns. "Mind if I come in?"
I jerk my chin at Stephen to dismiss him before walking over to Lorcan and clapping him on the shoulder.
"You already did."
“Sorry for the early house call,” he says, eyeing my attire—or rather, lack of it.
He’s dressed immaculately as always in a navy three-piece suit that clings to his broad frame.
I shrug before stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“What can I do for you, Uncle?”
“Can we talk?”
I nod before holding out a hand and signaling that we should take this conversation into my office. Not just because I don’t want Ciara to overhear, but because I don’t want my uncle seeing her in next to nothing.
That sight is for my eyes only.
