Declan

by Kate Hoffmann

  “Your cell phone was ringing,” she murmured.

  He flopped back into the pillow and groaned again. “What time is it?”

  “Close to nine,” she said.

  “Why did we sleep so late?”

  “Because we didn’t get to sleep until three in the morning,” Rachel said.

  He grinned and gave her a satisfied chuckle. “Yeah, you’re right. I remember now. You were trying to convince me that your tongue was better for seduction than my hands. How did that work out? Who ended up being right?”

  Rachel leaned forward and drew his nipple into her mouth, teasing at it with her tongue. “Me. You just have to admit that I know more about sex than you do.”

  “Book knowledge,” he said. “I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.”

  “Just how many women have you slept with?” she asked.

  “You really want to know?” he asked.

  Rachel nodded. “I don’t think you’d be able to surprise me. And I probably could give it a good guess.”

  “I’ll tell you,” he said. “Just one.”

  “One?”

  He nodded. “You. You’re the only one. The rest, they don’t count because it was never the way it is with you. That was just…gratification. This is incredible, crazy, intense sex. There’s a big difference.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “So how many men have you slept with?”

  “One,” she said with a playful smile.

  “We’re damn near virgins then, aren’t we,” Dec said.

  His phone rang again and Dec cursed softly. “I should get it,” he said.

  “I’ll get it for you,” Rachel said. “I’m going to go make some coffee.” She crawled over top of him then found her robe and wrapped it around her naked body. On the way to the door, she grabbed his phone out of his jeans and tossed it over to him. “One of these days, you should probably go in to your office,” she said. “I don’t want your employees to think I’ve turned you into my own personal sex slave.”

  “Now there’s a fantasy we have to explore,” Dec teased.

  Rachel stopped in the bathroom to brush her teeth, then looked at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t help but smile. This had become her life, here in this house, with Dec. She didn’t even miss her own place and had only made quick visits home to pick up some clothes and the mail.

  She reached out and set her toothbrush on the edge of the sink next to Dec’s. Her make-up bag had a place on a shelf above the toilet, and her shampoo and conditioner sat on the bench in the shower stall beside Dec’s.

  This was what it was like to have a real relationship, one that was going somewhere. But even the growing familiarity between them hadn’t entirely dispelled her doubts. What would happen once her stalker was caught? They obviously wouldn’t spend their days together. Dec had a job and so did she. And they wouldn’t need to live together. He’d probably want his privacy back. Would they go back to a more traditional relationship-dinners together during the week, a couple overnight stays and weekends spent together? She wouldn’t be disappointed by that. But she’d grown fond of this closeness they’d developed and the intimacies that had followed.

  She walked through the kitchen and opened the cupboard where Dec kept the coffee. She poured a good measure into the filter, then grabbed the pot to fill it with cold water. It was such a mundane task, Rachel thought, but satisfying. Once the coffee was done, she and Dec would relax in bed and read the morning paper. Yesterday they’d made love before getting in the shower together. Today, she wasn’t sure what would happen and she liked that.

  When she returned to the bedroom with the coffee and the paper, Dec was sitting up, his legs hanging over the side of the bed, a frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “That was my office. One of the investigators I put on your case turned up something.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “One of your clients was arrested last year for stalking. Her name is Janice Krandall. What can you tell me about her?”

  “Nothing,” Rachel said, handing him his coffee.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I have a strict confidentiality agreement with my clients. How did you get her name?”

  “I went through the files you keep in your briefcase.”

  Rachel gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. “What?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t tell me who they were-that you couldn’t tell me-so I took it upon my-”

  “Don’t you dare say it,” Rachel warned, grasping her coffee mug in white-knuckled hands. “You know that was completely out of bounds.”

  He shrugged. “It may be your job to protect their privacy, but it’s my job to protect you. And I’m going to do anything I have to do. Now, tell me about this woman.”

  “No!” Rachel said, unable to control her anger any longer. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve put my professional reputation at stake here. If my clients aren’t completely assured of their privacy and my confidentiality, then they won’t come to me for help.”

  Dec stood up and crossed the room, then grabbed her arms. “Listen closely. I don’t care. If this woman is out to get you, to hell with her confidentiality.”

  “If you don’t care about this,” Rachel said, “then you can’t possibly care about me. I’m a licensed counselor who is expected to follow a code of ethics. This is my career.” With that, she turned and walked out of the bedroom. But once she did, she realized that she didn’t have any place to go.

  Cursing, she went downstairs to the small laundry room off the back hallway. There, she found a skirt and a top she’d tossed in the dryer yesterday. She stripped out of her robe and tugged the clothes on, then slipped into a pair of flip-flops.

  She was out the door before she even had a chance to think about what she was doing. But once she reached the street, Rachel realized that she really wasn’t in any danger. They’d been careful to keep her location at Dec’s house a secret.

  Just to be sure, she headed in the opposite direction from her own house, toward a park a block and a half away. But she’d barely reached the corner, when Dec ran up behind her. He wore a pair of baggy cargo shorts and was barefoot.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Taking a walk,” she muttered. “Go home. I don’t want you with me.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand, but she yanked her arm away. “If you’re out here, then I’m with you,” he said.

  “You had no right,” Rachel replied, turning on him. “That crossed the line.”

  “It’s hard to tell where the fuckin’ line is,” he shouted. “Where’s the line going to be if you get hurt? Or if someone comes out of the dark and shoots you? Am I supposed to go back then and look for it? As far as I’m concerned, there’s no line when it comes to your life.”

  Rachel spun around and continued walking, but he came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist, picking her up off her feet. The strength of him took her breath away and she fought against his grip.

  “Let go of me!” she shouted.

  “Not unless you promise to come back to the house,” Dec said.

  “No, I want to take a walk.”

  “Then you’re not going anywhere.”

  Rachel kicked at his legs and suddenly, she hit him in exactly the right spot. He cried out in pain as his knee buckled beneath him and they both tumbled on to the soft grass of a neighbor’s front lawn. She landed on top of him and Dec rolled her over, pinning her arms above her head.

  “We’re going home,” he said.

  “Let go of me.”

  He did as she asked, standing up beside her and rubbing his knee. “We can discuss this at home,” he murmured, holding out his hand to her.

  Rachel sighed, then sat up, bracing her arms behind her. “All right,” she said. He grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. Then he reached around and brushed the grass off the back of her skirt.

  They walked in silenc
e to the house. He held her hand, his fingers tangled in hers and when they reached the back door, he opened it and followed her inside. The moment the door closed behind him, he grabbed her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. “Don’t you ever get angry at me for caring about you,” he murmured. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  Rachel looked up into his eyes and she saw the frustration and anger there. She couldn’t blame him entirely. He probably wasn’t aware of the ethical rules she was bound to follow. And after a week on the case with no decent leads, he was probably desperate enough to risk her wrath. “You’ll forget her name and what you know about her, is that clear?”

  He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her to him. “All right. Just don’t ever run off like that again. You scared the shit out of me. I’m not sure what I’d do if something happened to you.”

  His hands skimmed over her body as if he needed to reassure himself that she was here and safe. Rachel felt her anger toward him slowly dissolve and before long, she returned his touch, smoothing her palms over his naked chest.

  He moaned softly as she first sucked, then bit his nipple. “That’s right,” he murmured. “I’ll take my punishment.”

  She reached down and grabbed his crotch and squeezed it, just hard enough to cause a little pain and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I deserved that, too. Would you like to spank me?”

  Rachel stepped back and looked directly into his eyes, the blue depths twinkling with humor. “This is serious.”

  He reached up and smoothed his hand over her cheek. “Yes, it is,” he said.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him, tentatively at first and then with enough desire to prove to him that he was forgiven. But Dec wasn’t one to leave it at that. He took control of the kiss with his tongue, sweeping Rachel into an embrace that was more than just conciliatory.

  When he tugged at the hem of her shirt, Rachel lifted her arms over her head. He wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance. They’d never argued like that before and she had been frightened at how angry she’d become. Dec had taken advantage and crossed the line, something that she never would have been able to forgive in another man. But forgiveness seemed to be the only thing possible now.

  Dec lifted her up onto the edge of the kitchen counter and slowly teased at her nipple with his tongue. Rachel raked her hands through his tousled hair and smoothed her thumbs over his forehead, taking in all the details of his face. She’d grown so familiar with Dec that sometimes she forgot just how handsome he was.

  Dec hooked his fingers in the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down, letting it drop onto the kitchen floor. Then he unbuttoned his shorts and they followed. He was already hard and ready and when he reached around and pulled her up against him, Rachel let out a soft cry of surprise.

  He kissed her again, and his mouth ravaged hers, desperate to possess, to taste. Rachel drew his head back and looked into his eyes, but she could see only passion there. A thrill raced through her as she watched his desire build.

  He leaned over and grabbed a bag from the counter behind her, then pulled out a box of condoms he’d purchased yesterday at the drugstore. Rachel laughed softly as she took them. “Did you leave these down here on purpose?”

  “Maybe we should leave them all over the house,” he said, sucking on the skin below her ear.

  Rachel opened the box of condoms, handing him one and he quickly smoothed it down over his stiff shaft. He pulled her to the edge of the counter and slowly entered her, the two of them watching as he buried himself to the hilt. A tiny sigh slipped from Rachel’s lips as Dec began to move.

  If this was the way they settled all their arguments, then Rachel looked forward to having many more. It wasn’t difficult to forgive Dec anything, especially when he made her feel like this.

  DEC SLOWLY PAGED THROUGH the catalog of sex toys, stopping every so often to examine a photo in closer detail. “You know, I’m getting pretty used to these little visits to Rachel’s House of Pleasure and Pain,” he teased. “I never know what I’m going to find.”

  “There’s a really nice library on campus,” she said. “They have a wider selection of G-rated material.”

  “No, no,” Dec replied. “I like the X-rated stuff. See, look at this. A life-size rubber doll for nine hundred dollars. Why would any guy need a real woman when he has a babe like this at home?” He tossed the catalog aside and picked up another. “Why do you have these? And don’t tell me you’re doing a study.”

  “I have to keep up on all the trends in sex toys,” she said. “So I can talk about them on the radio. If my callers mention something I don’t know about, it hurts my credibility.”

  “Nice,” he muttered. “What about these?” He held up another catalog, open to a page of vinyl underwear. “Would you ever wear something like this?”

  Rachel shrugged. “If you wanted me to wear something like that. It’s only underwear. Some people find the feeling of vinyl very erotic. Like a second skin.”

  A long silence grew between them as Rachel continued her work. He studied her from across the room, watching the way her hair fell across her face, the way she nibbled on the end of her pen as she read. “Is there anything you can’t talk about?” he finally asked.

  “It’s my job,” Rachel replied. “It really doesn’t help my listeners to be bashful. They need an honest opinion and if I act embarrassed about the conversation, then that would be a judgment on my part.”

  But he wasn’t talking about sex and her radio show. He wanted to know exactly how she felt about him, about what had happened between them yesterday. About what had been happening between them from the moment they’d met. After their fight the previous morning, he’d felt a very subtle shift in their relationship. It was like they’d both finally acknowledged they actually had a relationship.

  Before the fight, they were having an affair. It had been all about sex and pleasure. But the fight had proved they were two individuals with different ideas and different goals trying to find a way to live in each others’ lives. If they wanted to continue to get along, then they’d have to work through a lot more conflicts.

  And Dec knew there was another one coming up, starting right about now. “What time do you have to go to your group sessions?” he asked.

  “We should leave here in about fifteen minutes,” Rachel said. “You can drop me off. I’m sure I’ll be fine. The office building is very secure.”

  “I’m coming in,” he said.

  Rachel glanced up from her desk. “If you’re sitting in the waiting room when my clients get there, you’re going to intimidate them.”

  “No, I’m coming into the group session with you.”

  She shook her head. “No, you can’t do that. The sessions are private.”

  “Well then, I’ll just pretend to be one of them,” Dec said.

  “You can’t,” Rachel said. “They have very specific sexual problems. You don’t seem to suffer from any, beyond the fact that you think about sex twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Twenty-three,” he said. “The other hour I spend thinking about eating.”

  “All right, twenty-three. They’d still spot you as a faker a mile away.”

  “What kind of problems do these people have?” he asked. “Why are they coming to see you? At least you can tell me that. Are they perverts or something?”

  “Pervert is not a recognized name for a person with a paraphilia,” Rachel said.

  “You mean, these are foot people?” Dec asked. “Hey, I could be a foot person. After our night in the tub, I’m starting to develop a fondness for feet. Your feet in particular.”

  “They’re not called ‘foot people’,” Rachel said. “They’re foot fetishists. And I don’t have a group for that.”

  “What are your groups?”

  “I start off with my Socially Repressed Gamers. They’re mostly computer guys who are approaching
their thirties and have never had a girlfriend. After that, I have my sexual addicts. They’re mostly divorced guys who managed to screw up their marriages by screwing around. And then I have my furries and plushies. They’re a mixed group, men and women, who are sexually aroused by others in animal costumes and by stuffed animals.”

  “So that’s the group that this Janice Krandall is in?”

  “You can deduce what you must,” she said. “I’m not saying a word.”

  “These don’t sound like people who are on the edge of a major meltdown here. Why can’t you just cancel until we catch the woman who’s been harassing you?”

  “I can’t. I won’t,” she said. “I should be seeing them every day, but once a week is all I get. If we miss a session, then it takes another two to get back to where we were.”

  “I’m going to come in with you,” Dec insisted. Though he knew he was pushing it, he needed to make it clear to Rachel that he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

  “You can’t. Counselor-client privilege.” Rachel drew a deep breath. “Unless-”

  “What?” Dec asked.

  “Unless we go in, tell them exactly who you are and why you’re there and you ask permission to sit in. They’d all have to say yes before you can.”

  “But that won’t do me any good. They’ll be suspicious of me right away. No one will open up.”

  Rachel shrugged. “That’s the deal. You can take it or leave it.”

  He considered the offer. At least it was a chance. “All right,” Dec said. “I guess I have no choice. But if they don’t let me in, then I’m going to stand outside that door until you’re finished.” He picked up the catalog again and stared at the cover. “Do you have dirty magazines at your other office too or do I have to bring these along?”

  Rachel slammed her book shut and stood up. “Come on. We might as well get out of here now. I’m not going to get any work done with you sitting here watching me.”

  Dec jumped to his feet and Rachel grabbed her purse, then opened the office door. To her surprise, Simon was standing just outside, as if he’d been listening with his ear pressed against the door. Rachel cleared her throat and Dec gave the young man a wilting glare.