Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  I could only see a handful of positives coming from the weekend. It was my last race meeting without my Mini until after the wedding. Morgan had retained the championship lead, and my stag night was just two weeks away—even though I wasn’t actually having one.

  CHAPTER TWENTY: SHE RIDES

  MY LEG BOUNCED nervously as I waited for my turn in Hell.

  I couldn’t think about what I was wearing or I would die of embarrassment. The lights from the stage alternated randomly from red to blue to yellow—a never-ending rainbow of illumination. The colours twisted sickeningly as they reflected off Morgan’s outfit, which gave me another reason not to look at him.

  As if I needed another reason.

  As if his outfit alone wasn’t enough to ensure that I didn’t even glance in his direction.

  I was still amazed at how easy it had been to get Morgan onside when I’d told him my idea. All I’d had to do was remind him what Eden would be doing at Alyssa’s bachelorette party, and he’d jumped right on board. But he’d surprised me when he’d suggested that he go alongside me—or more precisely, before me.

  Eden was a little bit more difficult to get onside, but she was the key to everything. I knew that unless I could win her over, I didn’t really stand a chance of pulling off my planned gatecrash. While finalising arrangements with Morgan, it became clear that she could give me an in, and would be more likely to accommodate me than Ruby would ever be. I hadn’t approached her until the Darwin races.

  When she was on a high about Morgan’s win, I struck. I’d sworn her to secrecy before I even told her what I was planning. But once I’d spilled the beans about what I wanted to do, she’d laughed. Then I told her that if I didn’t do this, Morgan would probably organise me a proper bachelor party . . . and who knew what would happen then?

  I wasn’t sure whether it was the thought of Morgan’s participation or my humiliation that caused her to agree in the end. Maybe it was both. I didn’t really care, because I got my wish. Although, I was seriously fucking regretting making the decision, but it was way too late to back out.

  I just hoped the plan didn’t end in a disaster like the last time I’d made plans behind Alyssa’s back—on New Year’s Eve. This time was different though; this time, the few confidants I’d told thought the plan wasn’t terrible. Even Dr. Henrikson had chuckled, questioned how I think Alyssa might react, and then given his support. Of course, I’d told him during the same session where I’d been worked into knots about the fact that Alyssa didn’t want to have another baby, so he might have been a little more concerned about that.

  The music started, and I rolled my eyes at Morgan’s choice. How fucking predictable. He’d turned his surfer-boy looks into a country-boy thing that he was going to use to his advantage. If the guy wasn’t a fucking great driver, he probably could have turned a dollar or two doing what he was about to go out and do for free.

  As he stood he leaned over to me. “You owe me for this. Big time.”

  I turned my gaze away so he couldn’t see me biting my lip to stop from laughing at his outfit. I was also turning away so I didn’t have to look at said outfit. Under no circumstances should shiny silver chaps ever be allowed to be worn by a man.

  Not ever.

  Especially not shiny silver chaps with fucking tassels down the sides and nothing but a G-string underneath.

  Then there was the matching silver-glitter cowboy hat. Why he’d picked that costume was far beyond me. Maybe it had always been a deep-seated desire of his to be a fucking shiny wannabe cowboy. I just hoped the silver mask around his eyes would stop Alyssa from recognising him long enough for me to get out there for my turn.

  As the first chorus of Morgan’s song started, I heard what sounded like every fucking woman in the house clap their hands and sing the words. I rolled my eyes. I guess Big & Rich got something right—some girls loved to ride the cowboys.

  Morgan’s song neared the end far too quickly.

  By the time the final chorus came over the speakers, my nerves were practically eating me alive as I pulled on the gloves that matched my outfit. Fucking red vinyl. It was fucking tight, but at least it wasn’t shiny. It looked like a very tight, very red version of my racing suit, but unlike my normal suit, it wasn’t a one-piece. There were at least four pieces to the outfit, each of them able to be removed separately.

  And in a flash.

  My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as Morgan’s song drew to a close. I wasn’t sure whether the appreciative catcalls he was getting made me feel better or worse. All I could focus on was that his moment in the spotlight was ending and mine was about to begin.

  Why the fuck did I think this would be a good idea?

  I slid my helmet on. It was a lightweight costume one so it wouldn’t hinder my moves, but at least it would hide my identity.

  Seconds later, Morgan raced back off the stage. He held his hat clutched to his groin and wasn’t wearing a skerrick of clothing, at least none that I could see and definitely not enough for me to be comfortable in his presence. I couldn’t be certain whether he’d taken everything off himself, or if he’d been attacked. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know, but I sure as hell didn’t want to ask.

  “Man, those girls are nuts!” he exclaimed, grinning goofily. “Good luck out there.”

  He scuttled off, no doubt in search of some pants. Then again, maybe he was meeting Eden for a private encore.

  Again, I really didn’t want to know.

  “Who likes a man who knows how to handle curves?” I heard the emcee start the introduction. “I know there’s one little lady here who has the hots for things that go fast. I give you our red-hot racer!”

  The first few bars of my song came on, the steady drumbeat, and I put all thoughts of embarrassment out of my mind. The wailing guitar had started by the time I reached the stage.

  I was doing this for Alyssa, even if she didn’t know it was me.

  Better her hands explored my semi-naked, G-string-clad arse than some random stripper dude’s. Before I knew it, the girls were hollering for me to “take it off,” and I was bumping and grinding my way toward the only woman I had eyes for.

  I took my time crossing the small stage to where Alyssa sat front and centre. The lyrics still hadn’t kicked in, but I was gyrating my hips to the beat of “She Rides” like nobody’s business.

  When I was close enough to see all the details, I took a moment to regard Alyssa’s outfit. The black dress she was wearing was wickedly short, but only because of the way she was leaning back on her seat, her face hidden behind her hands while she cringed at the stage.

  The veil that Ruby had no doubt made her wear was red-and-black netting with little pink charms dangled intermittently along the edges. When I looked closer, I realised that the little “charms” were in fact small plastic penises. I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  I was three-quarters of the way to Alyssa when I reached out and ripped off the top of my outfit. I saw her eyes gaze appreciatively across my exposed chest and abdomen. All that was left on my top half was a loose vest that rose high enough to cover the tattoo on my back so Alyssa wouldn’t recognise me too readily. I danced my way a little closer, close enough to touch her. I gently grabbed her hand and ran it along my stomach. She flinched and looked away.

  Good. At least she wasn’t enjoying the show. Even if it was me beneath everything, it wasn’t like she knew that yet.

  I pulled her other hand away from her face and trailed them both down my stomach, allowing her fingers to hit the muscles of my six-pack. I was sure she must have known it was me by the way my skin danced beneath her touch. No one else’s fingers had ever done to me what hers could, and I was certain it was the same for her. She had to feel the connection, even if she didn’t recognise the feel of my muscles beneath her fingertips.

  She was mesmerized by the waistband of the bottom half of the suit, so I pressed her hands gently underneat
h the material. The girls around her were squealing and hollering, but a sly grin crossed her face, and she looked up at me. I could see the recognition in her eyes, but obviously she’d decided to play along.

  Her hands bunched into fists, holding the material tightly.

  “Pull,” I whispered, and she did.

  The entire bottom half of my outfit ripped away, leaving me standing in nothing but red gloves, the small red vest, a red helmet and a red G-string. I couldn’t help the fact that I was incredibly turned on with Alyssa right in front of me, oh so close to all the areas I wanted her to lavish attention on. I grabbed her hands and ran them along my thighs. She shocked the hell out of me by leaning in and kissing my stomach. Unconsciously, I thrust my hips against her.

  Her hands circled around the backs of my thighs and pulled my body closer still as I gyrated and danced in front of her. I groaned as she peppered small kisses along my stomach.

  “Alyssa!” Ruby exclaimed, calling my attention back to the fact that we were not alone. “Watching is one thing! Declan would flip if he knew you were handling the strippers.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. I think Dec would be okay with this.”

  I reached down with one gloved hand and stroked her cheek tenderly. Then I busted out my best stripper moves and ground against the bride-to-be. My dick was straining to be released, but that could wait until I had Alyssa back in the privacy of our hotel room.

  My body cried out knowing that wouldn’t happen until at least the following night. But I understood this was Alyssa’s hen night, and even though it was all I wanted to do, I wasn’t about to steal her away from her friends.

  As my song drew to a close, I jumped back up onto the stage and did a little dance for the benefit of the other girls. I knew they wanted me. Half of the girls in the club were practically leaping out of their seats like cartoon wolves with bugging-out eyes and thumping hearts in their chests. But none of them would ever see any more of me.

  None of them would touch me.

  None of them—save one.

  I blew Alyssa a final kiss and gave a little bow before I exited the stage.

  I was back in the dressing room getting dressed when the club manager came up to me.

  “You two boys made a great impression tonight. If you ever want to consider doing this full-time, I’ll be more than happy to take you on.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. It was a one-time affair.”

  He shrugged. “I have one more offer for you. One of the girls has asked for a private lap dance.”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not. Despite doing this, I am a one-woman man.”

  “She said you’d probably say that. She also asked me to tell you to reconsider. She gave me this and said to tell you this time, she would be the one doing the moves.” He held out his hand and I saw one of the plastic penises that had been dangling from Alyssa’s veil.

  I’d never been happier to see a fucking penis in all my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

  I SAT IN the small room . . . waiting.

  I didn’t want to think about how many other people had been given private lap dances in this particular room. My dick was entirely too ready for action to care. I hoped to God I had interpreted the tiny plastic penis correctly and it was Alyssa coming in to see me. If not—if I was wrong and some other random chick came in instead—I was going to chuck a fucking fit.

  After almost ten minutes, the curtain pulled back and my jaw dropped. My eyes leapt out of my fucking skull and my mouth turned into the Sahara fucking Desert.

  Alyssa sashayed into the space wearing a shiny black vinyl bodysuit. Spaghetti straps rested across the curve of her shoulders, her nipples were just barely covered with the sharp V shape of the bustier. Laced fastenings crossed her cleavage, leaving just the right amount of skin on show. Her legs were bare, pale white and silky smooth to contrast the dark colour of the vinyl. Six-inch heels and a black whip completed the ensemble. Just the sight of her made me anxious to drop to my knees and beg for her permission to touch.

  “You were very naughty, crashing my hen night like that, weren’t you?” she said in a downright husky and sexy-as-fuck voice.

  I nodded. “So bad,” I whispered, more than willing to call her bluff. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Um, wait. Do you actually want me to use this on you?” she asked, sounding just a little mortified as she looked down at the whip in her hand.

  “Fuck no!” I assured her. I would do anything she wanted me to, if she genuinely wanted me to, but I’d never been spanked before and a Brisbane strip club wasn’t exactly my ideal choice of location to start exploring being on the receiving end of some BDSM.

  “Have you . . .,” she started before trailing off.

  I raised my eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”

  She hesitated and I opened my arms.

  “Why don’t we discuss it later? Right now, I’m waiting for the striptease I was promised.” I winked at her.

  She stepped closer to me. “I don’t really know how to do it,” she stammered.

  “Baby, you don’t have to. Just standing there, you are a thousand times sexier than any chick who has ever graced any stage.”

  She smiled. It ruined the overall Domme effect of her outfit, but it made her so much sexier in my eyes.

  “Come here,” I whispered, crooking my finger to call her closer to me.

  She moved toward me, staggering a little in her ultra-high heels. I stood, reaching out to stop her from tumbling. I ran my fingers along the inside of her thigh and wrapped her legs around me one at a time before lifting her up and carrying her back with me to the sole chair in the room. As I walked, I trailed kisses along her throat. I slid down onto the seat, ensuring Alyssa’s feet rested on the floor as I loosely held her hips.

  “So, did you want to learn how to do this?” I asked.

  She bit her lip, but I could see the excitement in her eyes at the idea.

  “Stand back just a little.” I pushed her off my lap. I made sure she had her legs under her and then sat back to enjoy. I spread my legs to accommodate my cock, which was so hard it almost hurt.

  She watched me adjust myself, taking obvious pride in my raging erection.

  I smiled encouragingly. “Just do what comes naturally.”

  She began to swivel her hips slightly to the music that filtered into the room from the main stage. Although muffled, we could hear that it was a slow, tantalizing beat overlaid by breathy female vocals. She closed her eyes, her half-naked arse beginning to sway gently back and forth as she moved in a tantalisingly slow circle.

  “Oh, fuck, Alyssa!” I exclaimed as she dropped down and ran her hands along her own leg, sticking her arse squarely in front of my face in the process.

  As her circle completed, she closed the small distance between us and leant her knee onto the chair between my legs. I felt the slightest pressure from her knee resting against my balls, and fuck, it felt good. I moaned and shifted lower in the chair to be closer to her.

  She twisted suddenly, raising one leg over mine so she was facing away from me and her thighs were grazing along mine. The loss of contact between her body and my balls almost hurt. I raised my hands, grasping loosely on to her hips. She continued to sway from side to side while my fingers ran along the bottom edges of the outfit. I was trying to calculate exactly how difficult it would be to fuck Alyssa without having to remove the whole thing, because it seemed like such a shame to waste something so fuck-hot.

  As if she sensed what I was thinking, she murmured, “It releases at the back.” Her fingers twisted around to show me the fasteners.

  Oh, fuck me! It has an access panel!

  I wanted to thank whoever had dreamt up the design as I made short work of releasing her pussy and then turned her around. I pulled her onto my lap, slipping two fingers down between us.

  “Oh, fuck!” Her
hot breath blew across my ear as I massaged my fingers into her. “That feels so—” Her sentence ended in a long, throaty groan.

  I licked a trail along her chest, running from the opening of the suit to her collarbone.

  “I . . . I need you . . .,” she stammered as I pushed her closer to the edge.

  All thoughts of stripteases and seduction were lost in the rampant desire coursing through us both. She lifted herself off my lap long enough for me to push my pants down to my knees. I pulled her straight onto me, relishing the warm wetness that surrounded my aching cock.

  “Holy fucking Christ,” I cried out as I thrust into her. I began to work the lacing that crisscrossed her breasts, longing to release them into my touch. I needed them under my fingers and in my mouth. I needed her. Finally, I managed to free them and brought my mouth to meet her nipples.

  The same slow swaying motion she had used to tease me was now bringing me to ecstasy. I clenched her arse tightly with my fingers as I came in her, the slow burn igniting into a flash fire.

  “Holy hell, that was hot,” Alyssa panted against my neck.

  I wasn’t finished with her yet. I took the flesh of her throat into my mouth before ravishing her breasts again. As I kissed her, she began to giggle.

  “I have to get back soon,” she murmured.

  I shook my head, all my previous thoughts about not wanting to spoil her hen night gone. I didn’t want to let her go; in fact, I wasn’t sure that I could.

  She pulled away from me. “We can continue this tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  I nodded against her skin before a thought hit me. “Wait . . . where did this come from?” I ran my hands up the sides of her outfit.

  “Eden.” Alyssa chuckled. “She gave it to me as a gift tonight. Said she thought it might come in handy sooner or later.”

  “That cheeky minx,” I whispered. “She wasn’t supposed to give it away.”

  “Don’t worry, she didn’t. Trust me, I was surprised.” Alyssa laughed loudly. “But not as surprised as Ruby. I’m still not sure she knows it was you.”