Unfiltered & Undone

by Payge Galvin

  “Can I get you anything?” he said. “Do anything?”

  “I’m fine. But thanks.”

  He nodded, his gaze averted. “Okay. I should, uh… I should let you sleep. If you need me, I’m, uh, right next door. Just shout.”

  “Shout, don’t scream?”

  A soft laugh. “If you shout, I’ll knock instead of bursting in on you. Sorry about that.”

  “You’re the bodyguard. No apology needed.”

  “Right. Yeah. See you in the morning.”

  He backed up and shut the door with a click.

  Chapter 11

  Declan

  Every time Declan shut his eyes, he was back in Jess’s room, rushing in after hearing her cry out. He burst through the door, thinking she was under attack, and found her sitting up in bed, and there was a moment of continued panic, as he searched for her attacker. But then he realized there wasn’t one, and she’d just had a bad dream and he looked at her and…

  Oh, shit.

  Declan could remember the first moment he’d seen Jess. At the self-defense expo. The gun club manager had insisted he go. While Declan could have refused—being the owner—he still deferred to Ross in business matters. He’d tried to get out of this one, though.

  “I’m giving you the chance to spend the evening in a room full of hot young coeds and you’re objecting?”

  Declan hadn’t dignified that with an answer. The day he’d applied for a job at the gun club, Ross had said, “If you’re looking for a job where you can screw coeds all day, keep looking.”

  “I’m looking for a job,” Declan said. “College girls aren’t my type.”

  Ross had snorted and warned that the first time he caught Declan messing around with a client, he was out on his ass. It was never a problem. Ross knew full well he wouldn’t want to work the expo—it was Ross who wanted him to because while Declan might not be interested in the girls, they were interested in him.

  He’d been putting out the flyers when he turned and saw Jess standing there. His first thought had been, “Yep, cute coed.” Really cute, like beyond pretty and toppling into gorgeous, which put her doubly off his list because, let’s face it, a gorgeous college girl had a far better class of options to choose from. So he’d just handed her a flyer, and that’s when something changed in her eyes. There’d been this look, just for a second, that said she needed this expo. A flash of fear and vulnerability and resolve that said, “I’m in trouble and I’m scared but I’m going to do something about it.” And all he could think was, “Tell me his name.” Just tell me his name and I’ll make sure he never bothers you again.

  Jess had taken off after that. She’d hurried into the expo, leaving him standing there, staring after her. He hadn’t given chase. A girl in trouble didn’t need some stranger running after her. He’d play it cool. Wait for the expo and the demonstrations to get underway. Then he would find her and smile and say, “Hey, you’ve still got my flyer, right?” and talk up the club a little. Only it didn’t work out that way, because the place got packed and the chances of finding one blond girl dwindled to zero. He’d still tried—tried damn hard—but he’d lost her. Then she’d showed up at the club anyway.

  That first impulse never went away. The impulse to rescue her. To protect her. Not that she really needed it. The resolve in her eyes had hinted at that, and the more he got to know her, the more he realized she could look after herself. Still everyone could use help. He knew better than to go after Walker, but that didn’t keep him from playing out a few guilty rescue fantasies in his head.

  That night, running into her room, had been like one of those fantasies come to life, better than he’d dared imagine. Jess in bed, frightened and trembling. Him bursting in. Seeing her panic evaporate as she spotted him.

  Oh, Declan.

  Jess, sitting up in bed, her feet tucked under her. The sexy-as-hell nightie twisted off-kilter, leaving so little to the imagination that…

  Oh, shit.

  Declan’s breathing picked up speed just thinking about it. He needed to get some sleep. Really needed to, so he could look after Jess properly.

  Look after her. Take care of her. Protect her.

  Jess, sitting up in bed, eyes round, blond hair tumbling over her breasts, one…

  Shit, no. He wasn’t getting any sleep until he played this one out. His cock was so hard it throbbed.

  Okay, take two… Jess sitting up in bed, her eyes round, her blond hair tumbling over her breasts. The nightie was twisted and tugged down so low one breast was almost free, pushing against the fabric, her nipple pressing against the lace, hard and erect, just waiting for him…

  “Declan?”

  She shifted and the bodice strained over her breasts, keeping them contained but barely, her full breasts thrusting upward…

  “Are you okay?” he managed to ask.

  “I, I don’t know.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She moved again, and the nightie slid further up her hips to settle around her waist. He could see the lace of her panties. Very small panties, unable to hide those full hips and that round ass.

  “I thought I heard something,” she said, biting her lip as she looked up at him. Her gaze turned to the window. He strode over and looked out.

  “Seems clear now,” he said.

  “Good. Thank you.”

  She’d twisted to follow his progress. She was on her knees, peeking out the window with him and he could see her reflection in the glass. When he turned, she was on all fours on the bed, the nightie hanging down, her breasts on full display, the hemline up around her waist. He looked in the mirror across the room and could see her ass on full display too, the lace of her panties pushed up into the crack, and he stared at both views, and at her face, her hair wild around it, lips parted slightly, her gaze fixed on his crotch. He looked down to see his cock pressed hard and urgent against his sweatpants. As she crawled to the edge of the bed, in real life he surfaced from the fantasy long enough to grab his cock in one firm hand. Then he returned to the fantasy, where Jess was on the edge of the bed, looking up at him and saying, “Thank you. For scaring him off. For looking after me.”

  He nodded mutely, then found his voice and said, “Are you okay?”

  “Still a little shaken.” She backed onto her knees and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. He walked over and put his arms around her and she buried her warm face against his stomach. Then she reached and pulled the drawstring on his sweatpants loose. She pushed them down over his hips and backed up as his cock sprang free. She took it in one hand and then lowered her lips to his head.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said hoarsely.

  She smiled up at him. “I want to. Thank you, Declan. For everything.”

  Her lips closed around him and that was all it took. He barely had time to imagine that first warm thrust before he exploded.

  ‡

  Declan woke groaning. It wasn’t a good kind of groaning either. After enjoying his fantasy, he’d stumbled into the bathroom to clean up, then zonked out in a deep and dreamless sleep, which would have been great, except it seemed to mean he hadn’t moved all night and when he woke, his body felt locked in position.

  Shit. He’d taken a good beating last night. And not that kind either. He’d lost focus in the ring long enough for his opponent to get in some serious strikes and stomps. Now, when he tried to stretch, he got as far as lifting his arms about a couple of inches before he let out a hiss of pain. He steeled himself and sat up.

  “Son of a bitch!” he said as pain rushed through him.

  “Declan?” Jess’s voice, right outside his door.

  He was about to tell her he was fine, just fine. Then he stopped. He remembered yesterday morning, nearly colliding in the hall, a little ogling, a little flirting… After the fight last night, he’d been sure he’d never get that again. But now… Well, he definitely wasn’t sure he would. Even last night, she’d adjusted her nightie and pulled up the sheets. But, well, yeah,
maybe he was grasping at straws here, but it wasn’t like she’d pulled the sheets to her chin and screamed at him to get out of her room. So maybe…

  “Declan?” Her voice came closer to the door, as if she was leaning against it, listening. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m…” He let out a hiss of pain. A seventy-five-percent fake hiss of pain. “I’m okay. Just a little stiff—sore.” He gave a wry laugh. “Seem to be having some trouble getting up—out of bed. Just give me a sec.”

  “Do you need something?”

  He paused before answering that one. “I…” A groan of pain. Sixty-percent fake. “I think I’m okay but…”

  “I have Advil. Or some Tylenol.”

  “What’s that?” he said, though he’d heard her just fine. “Go ahead and open the door. I’m decent.”

  She opened it. His first thought was, “Shit, she covered the nightie.” Then he got a better look at what she’d covered it with. A short silk robe, hot pink and black, like the nightie. She had one hand holding the robe closed, but the V-neck plunged right down to the lace on her nightgown, and the robe barely covered her hips and ass. She hovered in the doorway, biting her lip exactly the way she’d done in his little fantasy scenario last night, her blond hair tumbling down, her eyes wide with uncertainty, her lips smeared slightly pink, as if her lipgloss from last night was still on, smudged and sexy as hell. She took a step into the room and he imagined her letting go of that robe, it sliding off her shoulders and—

  Hell, yeah.

  She took another step. “Rough night?”

  “Kinda.”

  “Sorry I woke you—”

  “No, I wasn’t sleeping.”

  Another step and she released her grip on the robe a little, not intentionally, just relaxing, but it slid down her shoulder, and the V at the front widened and again he imagined her letting it drop and—

  “Is it from the fight?” She smiled. “Dumb question, I guess.”

  “I’m fine. Just feeling a little…”

  “Stiff?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Do not answer that, Cavanagh. Do not even open your mouth.

  “I can grab those painkillers,” she said.

  “I already took some,” he lied. “Just waiting for them to kick in. I’m fine. Just moving a little…” He winced. “Slow this morning.”

  She stepped closer. “Should I check your ribs?”

  “Maybe. I hate to be a bother…”

  “You did it for me. I think I figured it out. I’ll start at the back.”

  She moved to the other side of the bed and he felt the mattress dip under her weight. He watched her reflection in the mirror. She’d let go of the robe. Sadly, it hadn’t fallen off, but when she got behind him, she knelt and the view in the mirror was damned fine, as were her warm fingers against his back, softly rubbing and prodding. When she rubbed a particularly stiff muscle, he groaned and she stopped.

  “Sorry, did that—?”

  “No, it didn’t hurt.” He smiled at her through the mirror. “It was a good groan. Stiff muscles.”

  “Ah.” A grin sparked. “That I might be able to help with. I’m no expert but…” She shucked her robe, casually, as if just giving herself more room to move, and put her hands on his shoulders, her fingers digging in. “How’s that?”

  “Good.” Shit, yeah, it felt good, her hands rubbing his sore back, massaging him. The only problem was that it felt so good his eyelids kept shutting, blocking the sight of her kneeling behind him in that tiny little nightie…

  The stiffness spread. He groaned and she leaned forward, her hair falling over his shoulders, her breasts brushing his back, her mouth lowering to his ear to whisper, “Good?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  In the mirror, he could see her leaning forward, her breasts rubbing against his back, her hips wiggling as she rubbed harder. Her lips lowered to his ear again.

  “I should probably check your ribs from the front.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She slid her feet to the floor and padded around the foot of the bed. The robe stayed on the bed. She stopped in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders, picking up her massage. He parted his knees to give her room and she inched closer, bringing her breasts almost to his face.

  “Is this okay?” she murmured as she massaged his shoulders.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He looked down at her breasts. There was no place else to look, not unless he raised his gaze to stare at her neck, but as lovely as her neck was… Nope. He had the excuse to stare at a pair of perfect breasts, inches from his face, and he wasn’t ignoring it.

  As she leaned forward to get a better grip on his shoulders, the hem of the nightie caught between their legs and the fabric stretched. Damn, did it stretch, her breasts pushing up, straining, and he imagined reaching down, oh so casually, and taking hold of the silk, tugging from the bottom, so she wouldn’t even notice until the lace slid down. Hell, she was so close he could grab that lace in his teeth and tug it down. Or, better yet, slide his tongue in, flick her nipple out and take it in his mouth and…

  Her hands slid down to his chest, checking his ribs, and he let out a soft sigh as her breasts slid down too. Then her lips were there, right in front of his, those pink-smeared lips and he smelled strawberry, and his cock pushed a little more urgently against his sweatpants. He leaned forward, his lips moving toward hers and…

  And she was gone, her lips not even pausing as they passed, and as he swallowed back disappointment, he realized she was still moving. Moving down. Then she was kneeling in front of him as she checked his ribs. Kneeling between his legs, and his cock was tenting so hard against his sweats that there was no way of hiding it. But she kept running her fingers over his ribs, acting as if she hadn’t noticed the situation below.

  Then she looked up, face raised to him, and the sight of her, between his legs, poised above his tenting sweats, her breasts swelling over the top of her nightie…

  “Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

  He blinked.

  “You still seem a little…” That mischievous grin. “.…tiff.”

  He swallowed. “Uh-huh.”

  “Can….” She hooked her fingers in his waistband. “Do anything about that?”

  I’m dreaming. Shit, I’m dreaming. Gotta be.

  “Uh-huh,” he managed.

  She tugged his pants down over his hips. His cock sprang free and she smiled. Then she bent over, her hair tumbling down, blocking his view. Her fingers slid around his shaft. When her tongue touched him, he almost lost it. Then she teased him with her tongue, running it over his head and down the top of his shaft, light, running from tip to base. He leaned back, his hands braced against the bed. He reached to tuck her hair back behind one ear so he could watch and damn it was a sight, her bent over his cock, her tongue exploring it to the base and then back up, firmer now, tasting him as she pulled back to his head, her lips parting and then…

  Her mouth wrapped around his head, her hand around his shaft, both firm enough to have him hissing with pleasure. She teased his head for a minute, lips and tongue and even teeth, tentatively at first, but when he groaned, her confidence seemed to soar and…

  Oh, hell. Hell that was good.

  She stroked him with one hand. The other slid up his thigh to his balls. Again, a little unsure at first, but when he spread his legs to give her room, she cupped his balls, exploring again, stroking and squeezing gently, and taking her cues from him, every sigh and groan perfectly interpreted.

  She adjusted her position, one hand still on his balls, the other sliding to the base of his shaft, giving her room as her lips slid down it, sucking hard and firm and…

  Hell, oh hell.

  Declan stopped thinking. Just shut that off and enjoyed the best damned blowjob he’d ever had. Jess giving him the best damned blowjob he’d ever had. Watching her give it. Watching her seem to enjoy givi
ng it and—

  Hell, oh hell. He tried to hold out, wanted to enjoy it more, make it last longer, but just as he was struggling to think of something else—anything else—he looked down at her, sucking his cock like it was the best damned lollipop she’d ever tasted and—

  He exploded. No time to warn her. His hands fisted in the bedspread. He expected her to pull off fast, but she just kept sucking, harder now and… shit, oh shit. He came hard and it seemed to go on forever, and even when it was over and she started pulling off, he wanted to keep her there, just a little longer, and when he tensed, she seemed to understand and kept on him, slower now, gentler, easing off until she released him and he fell back onto the bed, saying, “Shit, oh shit…” He could barely find the breath to talk, let alone think. When he finally did, he propped himself up on his elbows and said, “That was amazing.”

  She smiled, slow at first, then a glow that lit her face as she gave that mischievous grin and said, “I studied.”

  He laughed and reached for her. “I don’t doubt it. Come here.”

  He took her hands as he sat up on the edge of the bed, tugged her over and kissed her.

  Chapter 12

  Jess

  Declan kissed her. She didn’t know what she’d expected—that he’d hitch up his sweatpants and say, “Thanks for the blowjob… now how about breakfast?”

  Honestly, she hadn’t known what to expect. Or whether to expect anything. It had been hard to make that first move. Part of her couldn’t help thinking about Chandler and how he’d made her feel for wanting more than straight-up vanilla sex. But she’d decided she wasn’t letting him make her feel like that. She’d take the plunge with Declan and see what happened.

  She’d made her move in a rush of boldness. If Declan did just accept it and move on, that was fine because she’d offered it freely, no strings attached. It was enough that he’d enjoyed it. When he’d said it’d been amazing, and the glitter in his eyes said he wasn’t just telling her that to be nice, she’d felt like she’d just gotten an A-plus on an exam in a course she’d never taken before. Not the most romantic analogy, but an apt one. When he pulled her into a kiss, though? That was like giving someone a surprise gift and then getting one in return.