He tightens his grip around me, his touch comforting. I turn to face him. “Don’t say anything. I didn’t tell you that so you’d pity me. I just,” I shrug, “I guess I’m still thinking about it. That’s all. Anyway, you two are very close, right?”

Ronan stares at me for a moment, looking as though he wants to keep talking about me, but I guess he realizes I’m done with the topic because he follows my lead. “Yes, we are. He’s my little man, always helping me with the ladies.” His tone is playful, but the pride shining in his eyes tells a different story. I can tell that Ronan loves Ollie as if he were his own.

I bump his shoulder. “Jerk.”

He kisses my forehead softly. “Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, he got me a date with the prettiest lil’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yep. She’s got this sexy mouth, a body to drive a man wild. And when she looks at you with those damn near perfect blue eyes of hers, you kind of find yourself forgetting how to breathe.”

“Oh my God, you have no shame.” I shake my head but smile nonetheless.

He looks very pleased with himself as he grins smugly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nope, at least not when it comes to you.”

I know I’m blushing, but I can’t help it. My body loves the compliment. Traitor. “Nice camera, by the way, Casanova,” I point at the black case next to him while trying to ignore the heat shooting up my arm when his thumb lightly brushes my palm. “I noticed it back at the house.”

“Thank you. When I’m not working my day job, I like to call myself a photographer.”

Disappointment stirs in my chest as the reality of how different he is from what I typically look for in a man begins to dawn on me. I guess the day’s magic is beginning to fade into reality.

“Wow, that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, it’s mostly commercial stuff, like fashion spreads, book covers, and some high society stuff. It pays the bills and I enjoy it, but my dream is to see my work in a museum or art exhibit someday.”

I lift my head from his shoulder and stare at him. When he mentions high society events, I want to add that I’m surprised that I haven’t seen him around, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want my other life to burst this beautiful bubble just yet. I want to keep him separate for as long as possible, even if it’s only for the remaining minutes of the train ride. Because for now I get to pretend I’m a different Blaire, one with a different past—with different goals. “I’m sure it will happen.”

He chuckles. “You haven’t seen my work. How would you know?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you seem to be a very talented man. The way you flipped those burgers in the air took my breath away. And let’s not forget your skills with the ladies … those are a killer,” I tease.

“What can I say? I have many talents,” he says, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“I’m sure you do,” I say sarcastically.

He surprises me by grabbing my waist and pulling me closer to him. “And many of them can’t be listed on my résumé,” he whispers in my ear, his breath makes my skin prickle in awareness.

I laugh nervously, but when our gazes connect my smile freezes in place. His eyes, hungry and burning, make me uncomfortable because whatever I see in them, I want.

“Ronan, I don’t think—”

“Shh … I’m going to kiss you now or I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer to his mouth, his touch sure and possessive. Before we kiss, as our breaths fuse, there is a moment where it feels as though everything goes still.

No sounds.

No movement.

No breathing.

No hearts beating as one.

Nothing.

It’s a moment where the only thing that matters is to finally feel his lips on mine, to discover his taste. It’s a moment when everything hangs in a fragile balance, waiting to be tipped to the other side. It’s a moment full of what ifs, but I don’t care as long as I get to taste him once, even if it’s the one and only time.

As the intensity of his eyes sear through me, and the forceful touch of his fingers pulls me closer, I decide that it doesn’t matter. As long as he becomes mine for the seconds of that one pulsing kiss. When our lips finally touch and our tongues fiercely meet, the contact tilts my world upside down, annihilating me. I know that there is no going back. At least not for me.

With one kiss, Ronan has managed to break me.

By the time we pull apart, I barely open my eyes and gather my wits before he wraps his hands in my hair and brings our mouths close once more.

“I think we can do better than that,” he murmurs huskily against my lips.

“We can?” I ask breathlessly. Is it even possible?

“Definitely.”

“But—”

“Blaire?” He tightens his hold.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

This kiss is different. It’s as unapologetic as it is rough and needy. It’s carnal bliss. It makes my head swirl. It makes me tremble. It makes me feel him from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and everywhere in between.

Once the kiss ends, we slowly move apart until we’re staring at each other. We breathe heavily, the space between us a magnetic field where the force of his eyes draw me in, making it impossible for me to look away.

“Fuck,” he exhales deeply. “Now that’s what I call a kiss.”

“Wow,” I manage to say, feeling as though a firecracker has gone off inside me.

He stares at me for a moment too long, his thumb softly rubbing my tender lower lip. “I want to kiss you again … so fucking bad.”

I smile as I look around the train car, making sure that we’re still alone. I stand up and straddle his lap. As our bodies touch intimately, I feel a blush as hot as hellfire burn my cheeks and spread through the rest of my body, centering in my core. I’m a human bonfire of lust burning brightly for him. His eyes on me, he covers my bare thighs with the palms of his hands. At first I think he’s going to go deeper between my thighs, but he surprises me. He pulls the skirt of my dress down, making sure that my body isn’t exposed to the public eye in this position. My heart melts a little with his protective and cavalier gesture.

Grateful and horny, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer to him—our bodies rubbing—until the front of my knees touch the plastic seat. This close, and with only a scrap of cotton protecting me, I can feel the contour of his very hard cock nudging me, driving me wild.

I smile, feeling bold. “About that kiss … what are you waiting for?”

I watch the cocky, one-sided smirk that frames his lips turn into a full-blown electric smile. “Jesus Christ. With my fucking pleasure, beautiful.”

And he does. He kisses me until nothing exists beyond him, beyond this moment. We become two swaying bodies in a tempest of desire and yearning, with no end in sight. Ronan kisses me until I forget my name, forget who I am, forget that this isn’t supposed to happen, and, most importantly …

Forget that it can’t.

Ronan stands outside my apartment, ready to say good-bye. One hand rests possessively on my hip as the other caresses my swollen lower lip. I can feel his thumb lightly grazing over a cut from one of his many kisses.