Unscripted Page 12

  “Do you like it my beauty?” Ronan’s eyes were beaming with suspense.

  “I love it. It’s simply fantastic.”

  He kissed my lips, placing his hands on each side of my face. Completely overwhelmed by Ronan’s romantic gesture, I mercilessly surrendered my mouth to his, allowing him to brush his tongue with mine, landing sweet slick movements that made my heart flutter. I pulled back, wrapping my arms around his waist. As we stood there together taking in all of the wonderful happy people decorating, turning the penthouse into our romantic little Christmas palace, I smiled, hugging Ronan tighter. This man, this handsome delectable man, had somehow made me feel again, to want to feel again, and that excited and terrified me at all once.

  After my shower I found the penthouse was quiet once again except for the lull of soft music coming from the living room. I peered around the corner to find Ronan playing the piano and singing quietly. I walked towards him, and he gazed up at me, smiling without missing a note.

  Outside it was snowing again. Giant snowflakes were falling from the sky, gently bouncing off the windows. The fireplace was crackling and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled every corner of the room. Ronan nodded his head, gesturing at me to sit on the bench with him. Cozying up next to him, I immediately recognized the familiar notes he hummed were that of “White Christmas.” I rested my head on his shoulder, careful not to mess him up as he played.

  The tree, our tree, was dazzling with light. The hand-blown vintage glass ornaments added extra shine. I wondered if people walking through Central Park could see our tree shining brightly. It was completely beautiful. Lowering my gaze to the bottom branches, I noticed a gift under the tree topped with a giant silver bow. Returning my gaze to Ronan, I saw his eyes were closed as he began to sing the chorus softly. That was incredibly sexy.

  The gritty rasp of his accent really came through in his singing. I want to rip his clothes off.

  He finished the song and leaned in to kiss me, gently cupping my chin in his hand.

  “That was beautiful Ronan. I didn’t know you could sing.”

  He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around my waist and swiftly lifted me onto his lap. He ran his hands up my back and down again, kissing me deeply as his tongue twisted with mine. My body felt as if it were on fire as his hands continued to travel the length of my body. He moved his lips to my neck, running his tongue to the base of my throat and back to my chin where he placed feather-light kisses on my jawline. I moaned as he clutched my thighs. He lifted me up, setting me on the top of the piano.

  Is this safe?

  Ronan picked up the remote for the blinds and he hit the button that would shield us from the world. He pulled my black lounge pants from my body, sliding one leg down and then the other slowly. His eyes never left mine as he seduced me, placing me once again under that sexual spell. I could feel my clit begin to throb, and the deep ache within me for Ronan to touch my body returned with a vengeance. He removed my pink lace boy shorts before coaxing me to lie on my back with my feet softly resting on the keys of the piano.

  I tried not to writhe, but when Ronan touched me I instantly wanted to move my body to match his rhythm. The keys of the piano played odd notes in no particular order each time he caused me to move. Gripping my hips, he pulled me closer to the edge. He was quiet and said nothing, only looking at me through his long lashes, sometimes grinning or giving me a raised eyebrow. I was intoxicated by this man’s sinful stare. The piano was slick, which caused me to continue to slide away from his playful touches, but he kept pulling me back to him.

  He caressed my inner thighs, placing soft kisses on one side and then the other. He kissed my scars, which sent shivers through my body and soul. My abdomen tightened and I laid there feeling like I was being pulled in a million directions.

  Pushing a finger into me he said, “Holliday, you’re already soaking wet for me.”

  Releasing a sexy growl, he dipped his head in between my legs, devouring my pussy.

  “Oh God… fuck… oh God…”

  I moaned and sputtered out garbled expletives, unable to resist the way he lashed his tongue over my slick slit so sensually. It was some sort of erotic magic the way Ronan dipped his tongue and worked his fingers. It was truly a masterful art form of pleasure. Cutting through my whimpering sex-filled cries that were filling the room, I heard Ronan say the sexiest thing that nearly made me come undone right then.

  “God’s not the one twisting his tongue in and out of your beautiful cunt— Ronan is.” His seductive words rang in my ears over and over.

  With a wicked lash of his tongue to my clit, I cried out, “Yes… Ronan.”

  He began to suck harder— my knees trembled and I squirmed. The keys on the piano went wild. I tried desperately not to move my feet. He gripped my ankles, holding me in place as his tongue gently caressed the length of my sex, driving me out of my mind. I thought I was going to burst when he continued rimming me with delicate thrusts, making me beg shamelessly for him to bring me to orgasm.

  “Ronan, please… can you… I need to come.”

  “Not yet, my beauty… I’ll take care of you.” Just hearing the smoky tone of his Irish brogue was turning me on. I didn’t know how much more I could endure.

  He continued to tease and torture me, twisting his tongue and licking me feverishly. Blood pooled in my stomach like hot lava as his tongue fluttered wildly against my sensitive clit. I couldn’t take it anymore. He knew I was climbing. He eased his finger into me, stroking me gently while sucking the innermost part of my sex, licking every inch of my walls. His mouth possessed me, driving me to the brink of orgasm.

  “Come for me Holliday. I want to watch your gorgeous body unravel in pleasure,” he rasped.

  His finger pushed into me harder. Quickly he pulled it out, replacing it with his tongue, plunging into me wildly and licking until I came unhinged. I convulsed around Ronan’s soft wet tongue and screamed out his name. He went back for more. I couldn’t take it. I fisted his locks on the top of his head, desperate to push him away.

  “Ronan, I can’t take it, the vibrations are too much… I’m too tender,” I panted, my body in total sexual shock.

  He placed his finger to his mouth and gently licked it. “You taste sweet, baby,” he purred.

  Fuck me. That’s hot.

  I sat up, trying to regain my breathing. Ronan playfully tossed me my panties and helped me put them back on. He slid me off the piano and placed me back to the floor. I pulled on my pants and he playfully slapped me on the bottom. I turned to glare at him, but I think we both knew that I liked it.

  “Do you mind if I kiss you or do you need me to brush my teeth?” he chuckled.

  I covered his mouth with mine, and he growled, kissing me deeply with long slow slides to my mouth.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  He grinned and kissed me again. “How was your day dear?”

  “Good, I had great workout. Blake is nice. Did you know he’s from Texas?”

  Ronan led me to the couch where we sat and gazed at the tree, his arms wrapped around my shoulders as I lay on his chest. “My dear, I know everything about Blake, or I wouldn’t have hired him.”

  “Oh, really? Well, since you know so much, did you know that there are pictures of us all over the internet?”

  “Yes, my beauty.” He looked at me and ran his hands through my hair. “Does that bother you?”

  I shook my head. “Does it bother you?”

  “No, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy. And as long as they don’t print any lies.”

  “So much for your brilliant plan to keep my name out of the papers, Connolly,” I teased.

  Ronan laughed. “About the pictures, what’s the story with you and Grady James? Did you know the dosser before last night?”

  Dosser? That must be Irish slang for douchebag, or something colorful.

  Ronan’s questions burned a bit. I so did not want to tell him the truth. If I lied t
o him I risked the relationship. I shifted gears. Turning to face him, I asked, “What did Grady do to you anyway? You told me to stay away from him.”

  Ronan sighed and lifted my leg across his lap. “He wanted to play Cameron Carlisle. Obviously you know who landed the role.” He winked. “He went to the studio making accusations that I was a drug-addicted rapist and should never play this role and that I should be fired immediately because of my conduct. Grady tried to convince the film’s director I was the wrong man for the part.”

  Shock rushed over me. I pulled away. Ronan gently pulled me back to him.

  “My beauty, I assure you I am not a drug addict or a rapist.” He shot me a serious look. “I’ve only ever smoked weed and tried cocaine a few times during my modeling days.”

  “What’s Grady’s proof? Why would he accuse you of such heinous things for a movie role?”

  Ronan shook his head. “Honestly I have no idea. There has been speculation that he’s about to be fired from several fashion campaigns and is deeply in debt. Grady hasn’t had a movie role in a long time. I guess he’s become difficult to work with, and his PR team ditched him because of his ego. There’s lots of history between Grady and me. He wanted the Velocity campaign, and I landed that one too.”

  “So basically he’s jealous of you.”

  Ronan nodded and said, “That’s the only thing I can think of, my beauty.”

  “Who does Grady think you raped?”

  Ronan sighed deeply, his broad shoulders rolled down. “Heather.”

  “What? Why?” I flew up off the couch. Anger shot through me.

  “One of the rumors I heard was that she told Grady that I laced her coffee and drinks with drugs, trying to get her fired or some bullshit about me wanting to outshine her in scenes. Complete bollocks. Heather was my co-star, and I needed her at her best so I could be at mine,” he said, shaking his head. “It makes no sense to me.”

  “Did you ever ask Heather about it?”

  “Yes. She said that Grady would never say something like that, and she never felt threatened by me on set.”

  Damn. Well, I was inclined to agree with Heather on that statement about Grady. I really can’t see him being a gossip hound or lying for that matter. What would motivate someone start that rumor?

  “Sounds like a bunch of shitty hearsay.” I huffed, crossing my arms. “Hollywood.” I shook my head. “And now you’re doing this new movie with her. I thought Heather looked good at the gala for just being out of rehab for her heroin addiction.”

  Ronan stood. “My beauty, she wasn’t in rehab for heroin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was pregnant and she lost her baby. Heather went crazy and tried to kill herself.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Whose baby did she lose? I didn’t know she was dating anyone. Oh my God was it Grady’s?”

  “No.” Ronan hung his head. “It was mine.”

  I let out a gasp. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Coldness rushed over me. I stood there in shock. My heart was pounding in my chest.

  “Holliday, are you with me?” Ronan gripped my arms firmly. I flinched back. “Holliday, please do not freak out.”

  “Freak out! How can I not freak out?”

  “I understand this is very shocking for you and I get that. I do. Listen, Heather and I were engaged.”

  Jesus Christ! What? When?

  “Ronan, I’m going to have a panic attack if you don’t stop dropping these bombs on me.”

  “Please Holliday. Give me the chance to be completely honest with you. If it’s too much, I won’t tell you anymore. Hollywood is a lot like high school— it’s filled with rumors, gossip and drama, and that’s just off-screen.” He smiled warmly. I could tell he was trying to make me feel better. I let out a soft laugh, but the tears came too. Not really understanding why I was crying, I inhaled a deep cleansing breath and counted to ten. I seriously had not cried so much or had such emotional intense feelings since I could remember. Ronan went to get me some water. When he returned my breathing was controlled and my heartbeat was steady.

  “Ronan, oh my God, with our collective baggage we’re going to emotionally kill each other.” He looked at me with confusion. I just blurted it out, “I fucked Grady James relentlessly for an entire summer.” Stiffening my body, I closed my eyes and yelled, “Fuck!” I felt better just getting it out in the open.

  Ronan’s eyes narrowed, he sucked in a breath, walked to the bar and poured a drink. He slammed it back even though earlier he had warned me to sip the warm liquid.

  “Here we go Holliday!” he yelled. “We’ve unleashed Pandora’s Box, and now we have to get it all out.”

  He poured a drink and slid it down the bar to me. I picked it up and slammed it.

  “If this is how the Irish solve problems and communicate, I’m in. Sorry baby, but I fucked Grady James for about six months… everywhere.” I slid the glass back to him.

  He picked it up and poured more of the liquid beverage into it and then slammed it back. “I was engaged to Heather Young. We fucked like bunnies. I loved and hated every minute of it. The sex was…” His voice broke. Ronan knew better than to finish that sentence with me in arm’s length of him.

  “The studio encouraged it and our agents set us up.” He slid the glass back to me filled with more of the warm, dark brown liquid.

  “I’m a natural blonde.” I took a sip and slid the glass back to him.

  He let out a soft chuckle and took a sip. “Heather and I were supposed to announce our engagement the night before the Emmys so that our big news would trend with the TV industry’s biggest night. We were walking the red carpet together because she was nominated for her guest role in Common Place.” He sent the glass sailing down the bar again, and following suit, I slammed it back.

  “I’m adopted. My dad, Jay Prescott, died of a heart attack when I was eleven. After he died we found out we were nearly penniless. He was a closet alcoholic and drug addict. The days after his death were a super fun time.” I sent the glass sailing back to Ronan who was standing there wide-eyed, and my own eyes were starting to glaze over from the alcohol.

  “Holliday,” he said softly. “I’m sorry about your father. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, not right now,” I replied coldly, still in shock from the bombshell news about Heather and Ronan. “I want to know about your engagement to Heather.”

  He shoved his hands through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “As I’m sure you know, Heather and I ended up not attending the Emmy’s that night. Heather lost the baby the day before. It was truly awful. I stayed with her a few days after the miscarriage, but when I tried to leave she went nuts.”

  “Oh God, Ronan. I am so sorry.”

  He scrubbed his hands down his face, “I was able to calm her down and get her to take a nap. Her maid found her unconscious lying on the bathroom floor an hour or so later. I guess she tried to down a bottle of pills with vodka.”

  “That’s awful. I am sure that only fueled the accusations that you tried to drug her.”

  Ronan shrugged, “And I felt horrible because I really never wanted to be with her, not married anyway. I didn’t love her. I wasn’t about to marry someone for the sake of a child again.”

  “Jesus, Ronan,” I began, my voice was strangled. “You’re swept up in this bizarre fucking weird world. How… how can I even be in it with you when marriages and babies are like business transactions?”

  “Let’s make it work,” he said. His eyes looked tired, but he seemed happy, probably because he was a little drunk. I figured this was as good a time as any to bring up my ex. But my plan was diverted by Ronan’s voice. “Oh! I have a gift for you, my beauty.”

  “But it’s not Christmas yet.”

  “This gift simply can’t wait.” He reached under the tree and grabbed the long rectangular box. He handed it to me, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Lifting the lid, I reached inside to find papers and a document of so
me kind. I read: AGREEMENT TO PURCHASE REAL ESTATE. I scanned the document. Ronan was thinking of purchasing a penthouse in Manhattan at The Addison, which was only a few blocks from the hotel.

  “You’re buying the penthouse at The Addison?”

  “I bought the penthouse at The Addison, baby.”

  “Holy shit Ronan! You’re moving to New York?” I checked the paperwork. It was signed and dated.

  “Yes. I’ve made arrangements for the girls to move here and go to school. They’ll have a new nanny though. Ruth wants to retire in a few months. And I put my house in Los Angeles on the market. I’m going to rent a place there and move my permanent address to Manhattan.”

  “Ronan, oh my, I hope you didn’t do all this for me.”

  “Holliday, it makes sense. My parents live in London, shorter flight. I’m shooting my next movie here, and it gets me closer to you. Besides, I can also work on real estate projects for my dad in my free time.”

  “Real estate projects?” I shot him a confused look.

  “I told you my dad’s a developer. He owns a few buildings here in the city. I also like doing the work. I have several investment properties here, in Los Angeles and London.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that there was so much I had yet to discover about this man. Obviously Ronan had many passions in his life. It was either that, or he had a back-up plan in case his career in the entertainment industry fizzled out. I could definitely see Ronan as a powerful business mogul. He spoke about things with such affection and excitement. It was easy to see why he had been so successful. It was like everything he touched turned to gold. Luck of the Irish perhaps? No, no luck needed. He was truly talented.

  A call from the front desk jolted me from my sleep. The ringing of the phone was making my head pound. It was a bit after four, and I had a terrible headache. Ronan answered the call, and all I heard was, “Okay. Please send him up.”