by Cameron Hart
We don’t say anything, she just crawls into the back of the car and curls up in the seat. I follow her in and tell Raul to take us back to my place. There’s no way I’m going to send her back to her place in the state she’s in. Plus, I deserve answers. Luna either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care that I told the driver to go to my home and not hers.
Almost as soon as we drive away from the curb, Luna falls asleep. I get that tight feeling in my chest again. We take a sharp turn, and Luna leans on my shoulder, not waking up at all. I can’t help myself. I gently guide her so she’s laying down with her head in my lap.
Luna sniffles and her shoulders shake. I’ve never seen someone cry in their sleep, but here she is, curled up on my lap, sound asleep. Every few minutes she makes these heart wrenching whimpers and her whole body trembles just once, and then a few tears drip down her face onto my pants. I’m torn between waking her up and demanding that she tells me the reason behind her tears, and just letting her sleep. Clearly, she needs it. I decide to let her rest. When I feel her tremble again, my hand moves on its own to tuck some hair behind her ear. I let my fingers linger in her soft hair, stroking her and trying to provide some comfort. Touching her hair is like touching sunlight; bright and shiny. The texture of it somehow seeping beneath my fingertips and entering my bloodstream, causing my body to flush with heat and need. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like this with any of the women I’ve been with. This feels… intimate. Tender. Not my style.
We pull into the underground parking lot of my building and I scoop Luna up in my arms, carrying her to the elevator. She snuggles up into my chest, still sound asleep. I see her red, tear-stained face, the bags under her eyes, her brow furrowed, her long eyelashes wet with tears, and I almost break. I almost cry right along with her at whatever brought her to this point. Gone is the bright woman with the loud clothing. Gone is the spitfire who put me in my place and went toe to toe with me about that project management app that actually has made my life a lot easier. Gone is the animated, lively woman who unashamedly ate six tacos and made me smile at her endless stories. Right now, I’m looking at the ghost of Luna, and it honestly scares the shit out of me. I want nothing more than to bring back my hummingbird.
We make it to my penthouse and I carry her to the guest room, laying her down on the bed once I’ve pulled the covers down. I carefully slip her heels off and remove her jacket. I want to strip her down completely, though I chastise myself for having those kinds of thoughts during this situation. I can’t seem to help it. Everything about Luna calls to me, despite my best efforts to ignore it.
Fuck, I could have lost her. The thought slams into me so hard I find it difficult to breathe. I didn’t realize how important Luna had become to me these last few weeks, but knowing I have her here with me, safe and sound, brings a peace I didn’t know I had been missing.
I pull the blankets over her tiny, shivering frame and tuck her wild blonde hair behind her ear. She blinks awake and looks at me, the absolute picture of exhaustion.
“Declan?” She whispers.
“Shh, get some rest now, Luna.”
Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she simply nods and snuggles down into the bed. I watch her for far too long, aching with the need to kiss her forehead and crawl into bed with her so I can hold her tight and take away her pain.
Eventually, I leave her be, though each step away from her, away from my broken, vulnerable little Luna, is painful. I don’t understand what she’s done to me, how she’s brought out these feelings of protectiveness, possessiveness, and longing, but they are coursing through my veins, slowly penetrating my cold heart and replacing indifference with the need to take care of her.
I strip down and throw on a pair of pajama pants before crawling into my own bed. I go to sleep with thoughts of Luna. One thought, really. Mine.
Chapter 10
Luna
I roll over on what is possibly the softest mattress I’ve ever slept on. No, scratch that. It’s the softest, warmest, most luxurious bed I’ve ever been on. Which is weird. I should be at the hospital. I should be on the scratchy cot or the broken rocker that won’t recline.
Instead, I’m warm and cozy and… well rested. My back doesn’t hurt, my neck doesn’t hurt, my eyes don’t feel dried out and irritated. I can’t bring myself to actually open them yet, in case this is all a dream.
Curiosity wins out, and I open one eye, then the other. I’m greeted with a pure white bed and down comforter, as well as a stack of pillows I’m all curled up around. I sit up and look around the room. There’s a huge oak wardrobe with a matching dresser and vanity, as well as a few paintings that look abstract and expensive. This is by far the fanciest, most elegant room I’ve ever seen, let alone stepped into. It’s not an over-the-top showing of wealth. In fact, the whole room screams minimal, but each piece of furniture is undoubtedly worth more than six months’ worth of my rent. I swing my legs over the bed and sink my toes into the softest, fluffiest rug. It, too, it white.
On the nightstand next to me, I see a note in familiar handwriting. It’s then I remember last night. I was a complete wreck. A wrung-out, disaster of a hot mess. And I called Declan.
Oh my god.
I called Declan. My probably former boss who has to pissed and so, so annoyed with me. I vaguely remember rambling on about the bus and not having anyone else. Pathetic. God, I’m so pathetic. And I had to have been gross. Shit, I’m still gross. I shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me as long as he got me out of that scary warehouse, but I do.
I sigh and rub a hand down my greasy, puffy face. I take a few deep breaths. What’s done is done. I need to be an adult and thank Declan for picking me up, and then I’ll shamefully ask him for a few bucks so I can call a cab. Like the absolute pitiful person that I am.
I grab the note, half expecting it to say something about cleaning myself up and then leaving as soon as possible. Instead, what I read almost brings tears to my eyes.
Luna,
I hope you slept well. There’s a bathroom across the hall, please feel free to shower or take a bath. You should find everything you need in there. When you are ready, there is breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen.
Yours,
Declan
“Mine?” I whisper. The sentiment makes my insides all mushy nonetheless. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it. Then again, Declan has never been one much for pleasantries or saying things he doesn’t mean.
I contemplate a bath in the clawfoot tub on one side of the bathroom, like Declan suggested, but in the end I opt for a shower. Not that that’s much of a sacrifice. The shower is huge, with a see-through glass door and one of those shower heads with a hundred different settings. Just like Declan said, there’s everything I need, including lemon lavender shampoo, conditioner, and a fresh bar of soap still in the wrapper with some fancy French name on the front.
Twenty minutes later, I feel like a new person. There was a bottle of fancy French lotion to match the soap sitting on the marble counter, so I helped myself to that as well. I swear I’m glowing and my hair has never been this soft.
I’m a little self-conscious about wearing the clothes Declan left folded up on the counter next to the lotion – a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt – but I can’t very well put on the clothes I came here in. Not after the most luxurious shower of my life.
I tiptoe down the hall, though I’m not sure why. I feel completely out of place here. Plus, this is my boss’ home. I shouldn’t be here, let alone using his shower and wearing his clothes. It all feels so… intimate. Familiar. Like we’re lovers.
That thought has my cheeks burning red, and my pussy shamefully wet. I take a deep breath and get myself under control. This doesn’t mean anything. Declan probably felt bad for me. I mean, I was in rough shape last night. Who knows what he thinks about me or what I’ve been up to the last few days.
I make it to the kitchen and see a tray of fresh fruit, a dozen pastries, a
pitcher of orange juice that I just know is fresh-squeezed, and a carafe of coffee. There’s a plate, napkin, silverware, and a mug set up for me at the breakfast bar.
Never one to be shy about eating, and never one to turn down a free meal, especially these days, I grab a croissant and an apple turnover and pile on strawberries and grapes. I also grab an orange for good measure. Vitamin C and all that. I pour myself a steaming cup of coffee and close my eyes, just breathing in the earthy, delicious scent. It has nothing on the crappy hospital coffee, that’s for sure.
Without further ado, I devour the apple turnover. I’m half-way through demolishing the croissant when I hear a familiar voice.
“Morning, Luna,” Declan says, his deep timbre rolling through me and setting my nerves on fire.
I look up from my plate and see my boss standing in front of me. Only, he doesn’t look like my boss. No, today Declan has on joggers that hang low on his hips and a white t-shirt stretched over his broad chest. I knew he was toned and epically gorgeous underneath his suit, but I never had proof until this moment. And fuck, is he gorgeous. Not just those strong arms and sculpted pecs I can see with his shirt stretched so tight, but his face. It looks different. Softer.
“Hi,” I squeak out.
Declan grins at me. Like, actually grins. It’s my new favorite look and I’m sure I’ll be thinking of it later tonight when I’m back in my lumpy bed, with my hand between my legs, like I’ve been doing for the last month.
To my absolute shock, he closes the distance between us and leans over the breakfast bar. I think he’s about to kiss me, but then I feel his thumb wipe away some crumbs from my face. I should be embarrassed, but the gesture is uncharacteristically sweet of him. Plus, he’s giving me this soft smile, like he enjoyed touching me very much. God knows I did.
“Are you feeling better this morning. Or, this afternoon, rather?”
My eyebrows raise up in shock. “This afternoon?”
“It’s almost twelve-thirty.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep that late, I guess I just—”
“You needed it,” he says, cutting me off from my rambling apology. “No need to apologize, little Luna.”
Little Luna. How many times have I pictured him calling me that while pleasuring myself? He said it that day we almost kissed. What are you doing to me, little Luna?
The endearment has me blushing again. I dip my head down so he doesn’t see it.
Again, to my shock, Declan places his forefinger underneath my chin and tips my face up towards his.
“You didn’t answer my question. Are you feeling better?”
“Much,” I all but whisper. I clear my throat and try again. “Thank you. For picking me up, for letting me stay here. I’ll get out of here as soon as possible.”
“No,” he barks. His tone is harsh, much like he is when he’s at the office. “Sorry,” he says more gently. “I just mean, you can’t leave in my boxers, right?”
There’s that grin again. And, god, is that a dimple? Fuck. Me. Seriously.
“Um, uh, right, I can… I’ll go change…”
“Luna, relax. I brought you here. I want you here.”
My brow furrows in confusion.
“You… do? Aren’t you pissed at me for blowing off work?”
“I was, yes,” he answers on a sigh. “But then I was just worried. And when you called me in the middle of the night—”
“I’m sorry about that, I just—”
He puts a hand up to stop me.
“When you called me, I panicked. And when I found you…” Declan looks at me with such sadness and is that concern is his beautiful grey eyes? “Where have you been?” He asks as he walks around the breakfast bar and sits on the stool next to me.
I push the tray of pastries over to him, hoping to distract him with breakfast so I don’t have to answer. He declines the food, saying he doesn’t much care for sweets. Weirdo.
“My brother, Lucas, he’s sick. Lymphoma,” I start. “I told you my mom died last year? Well, Lucas was just sixteen at the time, so I became his legal guardian. And its’ been… well, it’s been difficult. I dropped out of school and got a job as a waitress—” I clap my hand over my mouth, realizing what I just told him.
I venture a look up at Declan, expecting him to be angry with me for lying on my resume. Instead, I look up and see that grin on his face. He’s chuckling and shaking his head.
“You’re the best damn assistant I’ve ever had and you haven’t even graduated college,” he chuckles again. “I figured you were dishonest on your resume, but honestly, I don’t even care. You’re good at your job, Luna. I know I’ve never said that before, but it’s true.”
I have to look away from him. It’s too much, his praise, his attention. But then his words sink in. I take a chance and blurt out what I’m thinking before I can chicken out.
“Does that mean I still have a job?” I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.
“Yes, little Luna. You have a job as long as you want. But you have to communicate with me. Tell me things, ok? I didn’t know about your brother.”
“I didn’t think you’d care,” I say, continuing on in my boldness now that I know I have a job.
“You’re right, or at least, that’s been true in the past. I never gave a shit about my employees’ personal lives. But you…” He shakes his head again, almost like he can’t believe what he’s going to say next. “You changed me. I care. I care about you.”
For some reason, his words and the sincerity in his eyes has me tearing up. Who is this man sitting next to me? Does Declan have a twin brother? Is this their thing, they like to switch places and confuse the crap out of people?
He reaches out and wipes away the single tear that escaped with the back of his knuckle.
“Now, tell me the rest. Why did you leave so suddenly?”
I take a deep breath and continue my explanation. “Lucas was starting his second round of chemo and fainted. The hospital called, and I panicked. I rushed over there to be with him. We’re all each other have, you know? They ran all sorts of tests, and to be honest, one day sort of bled into the next. When you’re in the hospital and grabbing a few hours of sleep here and there, it’s hard to tell if you’ve been there a day or a year.”
Declan nods, encouraging me to go on.
“It wasn’t until Lucas told me I looked like a hot mess and needed a shower that I finally agreed to go home. Only, my car was towed and it was the middle of the night and I only had enough money for one bus ride, but then I stupidly hopped on the wrong bus and… well, you know the rest.”
“How is Lucas now?” It warms my heart that his first question is about Lucas.
“He’s stable. Doing better. They are stopping his chemo and trying to get me to agree to some alternative treatments.”
“Why haven’t you moved forward with that?”
“Just some details to work out,” I tell him, hoping my voice comes across as casual. The last person in the world I want to know about all of the debt I’m in is Declan.
He looks like he wants to say something but decides against it.
We sit in silence for a few moments, and then I try to break the awkwardness. “I should be getting back... Wait, you said it’s already after noon? What about work?”
“I took the day off,” he shrugs.
“You… took the day… off?” I can hardly believe it. He took the day off because of me?
“Sure. I can’t get anything done without my assistant anyway,” he teases. I’d feel bad about that, but the smile on his face says he didn’t mean it as an insult.
Whatever is happening here between us in confusing and I’m feeling even more vulnerable sitting here in Declan’s clothes. I gather up my dishes and make my way to the sink to begin washing them.
I feel Declan’s body heat behind me and I gasp a little bit. I turn around, but he’s much closer than I thought. I’m knocked off balance, but Dec
lan reaches out with one hand on my lower back and pulls me into his hard chest. It’s so much like that day all those weeks ago, my body pressed against his, my breath uneven and shallow, my heart pounding around in my ribcage.
His other hand comes up to wrap around the side of my neck, his thumb grazing my jaw. Declan’s grey eyes roam over my face, taking in every inch of me. I feel exposed, but safe. Broken open, but truly seen for the first time in so long.
“I’m going to kiss you now, my little Luna,” Declan whispers, his warm breath teasing across my face and making me so, so wet.
I nod and part my lips for him, though my mind is racing with a million different thoughts. What about Lucas? What if this ends badly? What if we end up in bed together? What if I’m no good? What if he wants someone more experienced?
His mouth meets mine and the whole world stops.
Chapter 11
Declan
Her taste wrecks me.
She’s sweet and citrusy, but there’s something there that’s just… Luna.
She parts those precious lips of hers and lets me in, lets me drink more of her down, lets me become completely addicted to her. Never, in all my years, with all the women I’ve been with, has one kiss so completely destroyed me.
And then she moans.
Softly at first, like she doesn’t know if she should. Our tongues tangle as my hands slide up and down her body, over the curve of her breast, her ribcage, her small waist, finally landing on her hips. I pull her towards me and slide my hands lower to her thighs, lifting her up onto the counter in one swift move, my mouth never leaving hers. She moans loudly as we both get completely lost in this kiss.
I already know it won’t be our last. No fucking way.
I need more, need to feel her skin under my tongue, need to lap at those perky nipples, need to breathe her in. I need to see her cum. I need to smell her release as it drips down my chin.