“What is it?” he asks. “Do I have something on my mouth?”
I raise my hand to wipe it, but Declan stops me with a kiss.
“Not yet,” I say, leaning in.
His hand wraps around my head, pulling me in for a longer kiss. I feel him buck underneath me as he presses his erection into my bottom. We sit there touching and tasting each other for what seems like only seconds, but when we look up, Adele is quietly taking our empty plates away and putting away the remainder of the chocolate cake Louis made.
I’m going to be dreaming of that chocolate.
My gaze returns to Declan as he looks at me with an almost shy smile.
“Dance with me,” he says.
The words aren’t a question. They’re a command.
He looks at me with a surprisingly devilish expression. He’s been up to mischief all day it seems. In the lighting of the candles, his eyes shine like the sun on open water. He takes my hand before I have the opportunity to decline his offer. I should be used to what his touch does to me, but the moment his skin touches mine a bolt of electricity shocks my hand.
“How will we dance without music?” I ask.
“Let me worry about that.”
He tucks my hand under his elbow and guides me toward another room with an open space that looks like it was made for dancing. My skin warms at his attentiveness. I almost don’t recognize the man I’m here with tonight. The beast that I met weeks ago has disappeared and in his place is a charmer with nothing but smiles. That smile. His lips part revealing pearly white teeth. I’m never going to get tired of watching him smile.
“You seem surprised,” he says as we arrive at the dance floor.
“I am. I wasn’t expecting you to ask me to dance tonight.”
“Why? Do you think I’m always a beast?”
“After today, I’m not entirely sure I know you at all.” I laugh.
“That’s funny. I think you know me better than anyone.”
My heart pounds harder at the seriousness of his words. He steps toward me and places my hands around his neck, and then his fingers drop down to my hip. The sensation sears me as his grip tightens around me. A million thoughts run through my mind. Most of them dealing with just how naked he actually makes me feel despite my dress, and just how much I want to be out of this dress.
And in his arms.
The soft sound of music begins to echo throughout the hall. I recognize it almost immediately as Claude Debussy’s ‘Claire De Lune.’ My skin heats as Declan’s gaze washes over me ever so slowly. Somehow, I don’t combust by the time he reaches my eyes again.
“I see you,” he says, roughly. Declan pulls me close as he slides one hand down my back at the bare opening of my dress. “You’re used to being the girl who slips into the background, who hides behind her books, but I can’t take my eyes off you. I see you for what you really are.”
“And what’s that?” The words fall from my mouth in a breathless state.
“Absolutely fucking beautiful.”
My cheeks burn, but he doesn’t let me look away. His eyes command me to meet his gaze.
“I see you too.” He winces slightly at my words. “I see someone vulnerable. Too afraid to love himself and too frightened to try. Declan, I want you to know the only ugly thing about you is the way you see yourself.” I smile, tears filling my eyes. “I wish you could see you how I do.”
His lips find mine in a soft, needy kiss.
“I think I’m starting to,” he says in a rasp.
He leans forward and places a kiss across my jaw working his way back to my lips. I feel myself grow wet at the sensation of him rubbing against me. Even my nipples seem deceptively hard against the fabric of my dress. We stand there for several seconds kissing on the dance floor.
He finally pulls back, only to admire me once more.
The realization hits me full force as he twirls me out and then into his arms.
I’m in love with Declan.
But you can’t stay with him.
He’s perfect for me. We’re perfect together. This is the last thing I was expecting to happen. Sure, it’s one of my wildest dreams, but just that—a dream.
And now I’m just waiting for when it’s time to wake up.
When it’s time to go.
“You seem tired,” Declan says. “Or distracted.”
I muster a smile for him.
“Take me to bed.”
His eyes heat at my words. Before I have the opportunity to move, he grasps me and lifts me up in his arms. My squeal brings Adele running from the kitchen with a terrified look. I almost feel guilty for scaring her, but as soon as she spots us, she heaves a sigh. She mouths a grinning goodnight as Declan lifts me and begins to carry me up the stairs.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” I laugh.
“You don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you?”
“No.” I laugh as he tickles my side with his thumb.
He shakes his head as he chuckles.
“Well, let me have the immense pleasure of proving you wrong.”
The moment we’re tucked away in Declan’s room, his hands are on me.
He pushes me up against the door, kissing me like an animal, all teeth and tongue. And hands. Hands everywhere. He squeezes my breasts, grips my waist, and caresses my thighs. He pulls my hips forward, dropping to his knees as his head disappears under my dress. I feel his hands pulling my panties down my legs as I lift my feet one at a time. I only have a second to breathe before his tongue is on me.
There’s no teasing, no preamble. His tongue latches right into my core, darting up into my pussy and lapping up my wetness. He groans like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. I’m in heaven.
I push the fabric of my dress up to see him. His head is buried between my legs and his broad shoulders sit between my thighs, it’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. I grip his hair, tugging it between my fingers, and it seems to spur him on. He speeds up, moving up to my clit. His hand runs up my thigh, teasing the sensitive flesh. He pushes two thick fingers into me, and I moan, my head banging back against his door.
“Oh, God, Declan, right there,” I breathe.
I moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth. His fingers curve upward, rubbing my special spot, and I explode. My eyes slam shut, and I grip his hair hard enough that I’m worried I’ve left him with none. As I come down from my high, he stands, unbuckling his belt and pushing his dress pants off his hips. He strokes his shaft a couple of times, leaning in and kissing me. I taste myself on his tongue and lips, with an undercurrent of Declan’s unique flavor.
“I fucking love the sounds you make,” he says, when he breaks the kiss. He lifts one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist. He bends his knees slightly, pushing into me slowly. His hands slam into the door on either side of me.
“I’m going to fuck you up against this door until you scream, princess.”
I moan again, pulling his head down until it’s buried in my cleavage. He unzips the back of my dress, pushing it down until my breasts are exposed. His mouth covers my nipple, and I throw my head back, lost in ecstasy once more. I whimper as he slams into me over and over again, still recovering from my orgasm moments ago. Declan’s movements are hard and fast, and soon, I’m breathless, desperate with the need to come again.
He lets go of my breast, trailing kisses up over my collarbones and shoulders. “Come on, Olivia,” he growls, his breath hot against my neck. “Come on my cock.”
I cry out, and he angles his hips, pushing deeper. “Declan,” I plead
He bites the tendon between my neck and shoulder, as his hand reaches down between us rubbing my clit in hard, fast circles. I scream, and he swallows the sound with a kiss as I come apart again.
He grunts as he pounds against me deeper and harder. The sound of his skin hitting mine is so erotic that I almost unravel again at the sound of it. A moment later, he groans, his hot seed spilling deep inside me.
We stand there for what seems like hours as we catch our breath. A string of worry hits me, as I feel Declan’s legs shaking.
“Are you okay?”
He laughs. “Just my leg. I think I overdid it today.”
I smile. “Yes, yes, you did.”
His eyes dance as he looks up at me.
“It was worth it,” he says kissing the side of my neck softly, soothing the sting of his bite. “You are so amazing.”
“I think you’re just saying that because your cock was inside me,” I laugh.
“No, then I would’ve just said, ‘You feel amazing.’”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
He brushes the hair back from my face, his eyes meeting mine. He looks dazed and soft, a slight smile lifting his lips.
“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” he says.
I gaze at him, running a finger over his lips. I have a wild urge to tell him how I feel. Tell him I’m teetering on the edge of love. I need an anchor. I need him to be there with me.
But I can’t. It isn’t fair to him, to lay this on him. So I kiss him, telling him without words how I feel.
“My time with you has been the best of my life,” he says. “Thank you for giving me my life back.”
My heart squeezes. Why does it feel like he’s saying goodbye?
21
DECLAN
I find Olivia in the kitchen the next day, helping Louis make pancakes. She’s laughing as she pours batter in the pan in front of her. I watch as she sways to some wordless song playing from her phone. The ratty old paperback of Jane Eyre sits on the counter next to her. I smile. She’s been reading that thing from the first week she got here.
I slide up behind her, burying my face in her hair. I love the way she smells. She giggles as I brush it to the side and kiss along her collarbone.
“She’s going to burn the pancakes if you keep doing that.” Louis chuckles, walking past us to give us a moment alone.
“He’s right.” Olivia laughs. “Trying to concentrate on the batter in front of her.”
When she’s done cooking the pair of pancakes, she turns to me, a bright smile on her face, and I stare at her, just admiring her beauty. I love her thick brown hair and her stunning eyes, a combination of soft green and brown that leaves me tongue-tied. I love her generous curves, especially how they look when they’re naked and underneath me. Olivia Evans makes my head spin, and my knees buckle every single time I see her.
I love her.
Olivia is the woman I’ve been waiting for, the one who makes my life complete. Who makes my life worth living. I mean really living. I was living in darkness before. If living is what you could call it. I smile at her. The thought of needing someone so much doesn’t scare me anymore. This feels right. She makes me whole in a way I never really have been before. Even before the crash, I was such an asshole. I didn’t care about anyone or anything but myself. Maybe that’s why my ex-wife left me in the first place. Maybe I was too focused on myself. The anger, guilt, and self-loathing crystallized me into a hard, bitter thing.
Until Olivia.
She redeems me.
Olivia smiles up at me, looking so happy to see me that I feel pain in my chest, my heart beating like a wild animal, trying to claw its way out just to find its place back with hers.
“I was thinking about us when I woke up this morning,” she says.
I clear my throat. “What a coincidence. I was thinking about us, too.”
Her smile widens, lighting up her face. “Yeah?”
I nod. I’m just about to go on to explain how much I need her, but my confession is cut short by the sound of her phone ringing. A look of sadness sweeps across her face as she asks me to give her a minute before stepping away. I watch her as she disappears down the hallway, holding her phone up to her ear.
“This is Olivia Evans.”
Her voice echoes softly down the hall
It feels like hours later when she returns. She’s breathless, but for a different reason.
I clear my throat, and she looks up at me with an almost shy expression.
“Declan, did you really mean it when you said you’d buy me a ticket to see my dad?” A smile slowly spreads across her face, tears filling her eyes. “He asked for me. He said my name.” She pulls me closer, burying her face in my chest. Her shoulders shake, and I feel a wet spot spread across my shirt. “He hasn’t recognized me in the past few months,” she says, her voice muffled against my chest. “I didn’t think he’d ever remember me again.”
She looks up at me, her cheeks wet with tears.
I grip her tighter, smiling through the ache in my chest.
“Pack your bags.” I smile. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
Her arms swing around me as she embraces me, rubbing her cheek against my neck. My shoulders tense as a million thoughts race through my mind. Part of me, the selfish part of me that needs Olivia more than it needs air, wants to lock her away and never let her go. But I know I can’t do that. That’s not who I am anymore. She needs to go, and I need to let her.
She looks up at me, her brow heavy. “I’m coming back,” she says, her tone sounding off somehow. “We still have to finish your book.”
I stare at her. “Right. My book,” I echo, sounding hollow even to my own ears.
She lets my hand go, turning to leave again. I watch her numbly, unable to move or speak or think. I feel like there’s something stuck in my throat. Regret, maybe. The profession of love that I never got to utter.
God, listen to me. I always was a melodramatic motherfucker. It’s all so much simpler than I’m making it.
I want her. I need her. I love her.
And she’s leaving me.
22
OLIVIA
“Evans, get in here right now!”
I look up from my computer screen to see Richard Grant scowling at me from his office doorway. He looks like he’s ready to blow his top. Reluctantly, I lock my computer and walk over to him, biting my lip. I don’t know why he’s mad, but frankly, a big part of me doesn’t care. I’ve been back in New York for more than two weeks now, but it feels longer than that. And even longer since I’ve seen Declan.
Since the moment I returned to the city, I’ve been at the assisted living community nearly every second. Dad is making real progress. He’s not cured by any means, but he seems to be regaining some of his memories of me, especially of my childhood. He seems fixated on memories of me dressed up as a princess as he read me fairy tales before bedtime. He doesn’t remember everything, but it’s progress, real, tangible progress.
“Come on, Evans. I haven’t got all day here.” Grant taps his foot impatiently.
I step up my pace, scurrying into his office. He stands in the doorway, so I have to brush past him as I enter the room. I never noticed how creepish he could be about things.
“Sit down,” he orders, and I do, frowning slightly.
“What’s going on?” I ask, careful to make my tone as polite as I can.
He scowls at me, slapping a tablet down in front of me. “What the hell is this?”
I pick up the device, glancing down at the screen. It’s an email, and my heart sinks as I see the name listed under ‘From.’
Declan Hart sent my boss an email asking for a deadline extension.
“One job, Evans. They gave you one job. You were to go Vegas and get Hart’s ass on track.”
I blush. There was definitely a lot of attention paid to Declan’s ass. And mine. I clear my throat. That’s neither here nor there right now.
“You were to stay until the book was done,” he continues, glaring at me. “So explain to me why you are sitting in my office when this email clearly states that the damn book is not done!”
“He was almost finished when I left.”
“Really?” he says with disbelief. He pauses, looking down at the tablet and begins to read Declan’s email. “I will need an additional six weeks added to the deadlin
e. Please fax my agent the contract addendum as per usual.”
I swallow. “He was only five chapters away from the end when I left Las Vegas—”
“Which was over two weeks ago,” he cuts me off, his expression thunderous. “Where the hell have you been for two weeks?”
I bite my lip nervously. “Well, I had an emergency, and—”
“That’s enough, Evans.”
I nod weakly. This is it. This is where Grant fires me. Two years of my life flushed straight down the drain. And oh, God. Dad. I won’t be able to afford his care. Tears fill my eyes as I realize everything I’ll lose. It doesn’t help that I already feel like I’ve lost Declan. I haven’t heard a word from him since I left Las Vegas. He hasn’t returned any of my emails on the notes I gave him or the questions I asked. It’s as if he has disappeared again, back into his self-imposed prison.
I miss him like a limb, like an essential part of me got torn off, leaving a bleeding stump in its place.
Everything was so wrong between us when I was packing my things. It was like we were going through the motions, pretending everything was still okay between us, when in fact, everything was falling apart. I could feel him slipping farther and farther away, despite my repeated assurances that I would come back to Vegas just as soon as I could.
He didn’t sleep in my room that night. He told me he would leave me alone so I could get a good night’s sleep without him bothering me. I couldn’t tell him that I don’t know how to sleep anymore without him in bed beside me, lulling me into a peaceful slumber. That I don’t feel safe anymore without his arms wrapped tight around me. That I don’t know what to do now that his face isn’t the last thing I see at night, and the first thing I see in the morning.
I couldn’t tell him that I love him because I had to leave him.
But I can’t think about that right now. I’m about to get fired. I have enough to worry about without adding to my broken heart.
Filthy Beast (Filthy Fairy Tales #1) Page 11