by Tricia Lynne
Damp bodies packed the small dance floor, gyrating to the sultry sounds of zydeco. The music was spicy and gritty, like the people in the club. Bodies glistened with sweat, hair stuck to necks as skirts rode up shapely thighs a tad higher than was decent, and men gripped curvaceous hips while women slithered against them. A woman with short black curls and wire hoop earrings licked a path up the neck of a well-built man with her serpentine tongue. Another bent forward and rocked her ass side to side over the fly of the man she danced with as he held her hips tight against his.
It was sex with clothes on and I was completely captivated. So much so that when Declan nudged my arm and handed me a mason jar full of clear liquor with peach slices in the bottom, I hadn’t even noticed that he’d left my side.
“What is this?” I yelled, but he didn’t hear. I sipped. The liquor reminded me of biting into a ripe, juicy sugar tree peach in the middle of summer. It went down easy. Very easy. I had another sip…and another, and watched, transfixed, by the bodies swaying on the dance floor while Declan greeted a man with skin the color of onyx and eyes so light blue they were nearly white.
The music changed and the band sat quiet. A lone acoustic guitar played and a woman sang in low and sultry French with a tone that spoke of pain and wisdom far beyond her years.
Couples swayed together to the haunting melody, exchanging looks meant for lovers only. Declan wound a hand around my hip, turning me away from the dance floor toward a table occupied by three men with women draped lazily over their laps.
“Go easy on that stuff.” He nodded at my glass.
“What is this?”
“Moonshine. Real stuff. Not the shit you buy in a liquor store.”
“It goes down easy.”
“Mmhmm.” He pointed at my jar. It was nearly half-empty and my head was a little light.
“Oh.”
“Slow down a bit.” Declan took my jar and set both on the table, nodding at one of the men. Declan took his hat off and pulled his suspenders down his shoulders. Pulling his shirttail out, he slid the shirt over his head laying it next to his hat while I admired the view.
It was just a black tank top, any old wifebeater, but Declan filled it out in all the right spots. His arms were thick and muscled; his chest a hard, wide expanse; his torso, trim, tapered, and ridged. Tattoos wrapped up his arms, some color and some gray scale, all beautiful. He tugged my waist, pulled me flush against his chest, smelling of clean sweat and spice.
I shivered, despite the temperature in the bar.
“Take your hair down, Avery.”
I slipped the pins free, dropping them in his hat.
He ran a hand down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps until my palm rested in his. “C’mon.” He tugged me to the floor.
The band’s tempo picked up again and the music was sizzling. Declan spun me around, yanked my back against his front with a solid grip. He wrapped a sinewy forearm around my waist and that tug in my abdomen reappeared.
“Can you move, sweet?” His lips lingered against my ear and I practically purred.
The moonshine had done its job and self-conscious Avery had fled, taking most of my inhibitions with her. I reached back with both hands and gripped his hips, trapping him against my ass. “Can you move, baby?” I threw over my shoulder and started a slow grind of circles with my generous hips while matching his tempo to mine with my hands.
Oh, yeah. He’d do, all right.
“Try and keep up, will you?” I taunted, letting my hands fall.
I swung my hips and arched my back to the beat of the music, letting the bulge in his pants slide over the seam of my ass. I slithered and snaked and bent forward, him gripping the crease of my hips, the narrowing of my waist, the nape of my neck. And he did keep up for the most part.
One song melded into another and my hair began to stick to my neck as people came and went, and Declan and I got lost in the rhythm of each other. I felt uninhibited and free, sexier than ever before. I turned to face him, letting him see my heat, my need. With his eyes intent on mine, I ran my hands over every inch of him that was decent, slid my body over the parts that weren’t. I dragged fingers down his torso to feel his stomach clench tight and he grinned. I played in the dip above his ass and then dug my nails into his tight, round cheeks.
His lips parted with an exhale as he pulled his thumb over my lip, chin, down my neck. Declan pushed a thigh between mine and I could feel his thick length pressed hard against my hip. He moved his palms down my back and latched onto my ass, fusing us together; his eyes, a silent demand that I know who held on to me.
I don’t really know how long we danced, or how many songs we’d heard, but I know that if Declan had laid me out on the floor, spread my thighs in front of God and congregation, I would have done so willingly, and never batted an eye.
The music slowed to another haunting French ballad, and Declan wound my arms around his neck, pulling me in tight as our bodies aligned. “You’re a helluva dancer, sweetness.”
With my damp forehead leaned against his, I gazed, unhindered, into his mesmerizing eyes at that full pink mouth, built for an excess of sins.
“So goddamned sexy.” He kissed me with a quick brush of lips.
I ran my index finger over the thin scar along his cheek, his jaw, down the side of his neck, dragging my nails through the damp stubble at his nape. Declan growled, pushed his head against my hand, his shredded voice reverberating down my spine.
He took my mouth in a hard kiss, tasting of moonshine and dark, rich Guinness. His warm slick tongue tangled with mine, a battle waged for control. I met him thrust for thrust, bite for bite as he fisted hands in the material along my back.
Declan broke away left my lips tingling and kiss bruised. His puffy and red, his face dangerous and dark.
“Let’s go.” Grabbing his hat and shirt from the table, we pushed through the crowd, rushing past Shaun, who grinned as we stumbled out into the cool night air.
Chapter 11
Declan pitched his shirt and hat on the table. His room was larger than mine—a full sectional and coffee table, an enormous TV—touches of crimson instead of violet, but otherwise, the two rooms were alike with touches of black and silver in the decor. His bed was turned down and thick LED candles lined the windows.
“Make yourself at home.” Declan disappeared into the far end of the suite, stripping his undershirt off as he went.
I poured two fingers of Maker’s Mark into two glasses and added some ice. Caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My hair was tangled, my skin shiny and flushed, mascara smudged. Self-conscious Avery was creeping up on me as the buzz from the moonshine wore off. I ran my fingers through my hair and wiped the dark blurs away, smoothed my dress, sipping the bourbon to steady my nerves.
Declan appeared behind me in the mirror bare-chested and damp from the shower. He dipped his head and kissed my neck where it met my shoulder while I studied our reflection.
“So pretty,” he said, meeting my eyes.
“I smell, you know.”
“I like the way you smell.” I quirked a brow and he chuckled. “Like skin after spending all day at the beach.” He tugged down the zipper of my dress, kissed my nape, and I shuddered an exhale as he turned me to face him.
Jesus, but this man. He was breathtaking.
Drops of water ran into the crevices between stomach muscles to where the V of his hips disappeared into a towel along with a trail of dark hair. I ran a slow finger over the trail and Declan drew in a quick breath as the shadows between muscles deepened.
Then he kissed me. A slow sensual meeting of mouths that seemed made to fit together. When he moved back, I pried my eyes open. For a few breaths, we stood, watching each other. He reached back, untying the halter’s bow, and my dress puddled around my feet.
Declan’s gaze devo
ured me, and I couldn’t resist the urge to cross my arms over my middle. Even though my stomach was relatively flat, I was conscious of the softness, the faint stretch marks that chased the curves of my hips, the inner thighs that would never have a gap.
His brows knitted together. “Why do you wanna hide from me?” Declan’s guitar-roughened fingers slipped under my crossed arms, ghosting along my abdomen before sliding out to torture the skin where my hips narrowed into my waist.
I shifted; his gaze unnerved me as chills raced over me. “I’m not exactly built like one of your band rats at Whiskey Moon or a Victoria’s Secret model. Or even—”
“Kat.”
I nodded. She didn’t have to be supermodel thin to still be one of the most beautiful women in the world.
“She’s lovely to look at, Avery, but she’s not the only one. And I’ve never been the kind of man who likes sharp angles pressed into the bed beneath me. Your curves are lush and decadent. Soft. And so fucking sexy.” He put a palm, quite deliberately, on the flare of my hip.
“The soft curves of the woman beneath you look completely different when she straddles you from above,” I said, meeting his eyes.
“You’re not wrong.” He thumbed my chin. “Nothing is prettier than a woman with beautiful curves straddling my hips. Wild and uncontrolled. Concerned only with chasing her orgasm…Her lips parted with a sigh, breasts bouncing freely…” Declan’s gaze lit with appreciation as it roamed over me, his voice, a soothing rumble as my eyelids slipped closed and I pictured him beneath me.
Calloused hands ran up my spine, unhooking my bra and soft, damp lips trailed between my breasts as he pulled it away. I shivered, letting my head fell back on an exhale as he swirled one taut nipple with his skilled tongue and brushed a finger over the other. My inner muscles tightened, railing from the emptiness, seeking purchase on something…anything.
“Thighs spread wide over mine,” he murmured. “The curve of your ass against my legs. The swell of your pussy around my cock.” Dropping to his knees, Declan slid his lips over my rib cage. Along the slope of my waist. The outer curve of my hip. Mouth licking, lips sucking, teeth scraping. A sudden sharp bite.
“Oh.” My wide-eyed reaction. His hands trailed up between my thighs, abrading my sensitive skin. I was already so wet, the ache so sweet and sharp. I wanted him inside of me, needed him to ease it.
“Hips rocking back and forth as you push my cock inside of you…,” he purred, his warm breath tickling across my panties. “…As you drag this gorgeous ass up and down my thighs, pushing me deep. Your clit throbbing for my attention…”
“Declan,” I stuttered put my hand on his head, urging him forward. When his mouth closed over my panties, I quivered, inside and out, as he mouthed the sheer fabric and my legs trembled.
Slipping his hands under the material at my hips, he tugged slowly, eyes never wavering from mine. “…I’d have to grab on to these beautiful hips. Force you to slow down so I didn’t come too soon. But you’d have none of that, would you, sweet?” He gave me that wicked half grin. “It’d only make you more frantic, to ride me until you come apart. Nails raising welts on my stomach. Thighs squeezing my hips. Slick pussy wringing me empty…Yes, Avery. You would look very different, indeed, straddling me, than Kat.”
Finally, his eyes trailed down, slow and steady, until his gaze landed on my bare mound.
“God, that’s pretty.”
“Declan.” With my legs in a precarious wobble, I exhaled as his mouth closed over me. He gripped the backs of my thighs, pushing his tongue between my folds, dragging it up and down along my crease.
“Christ, you’re every bit as sweet as I thought. Coconut and honey.” His whisper was warm against my damp flesh.
My knees gave, but his strong arms kept me from face-planting. “Jesus,” I said, as he got to his feet. Crushing me against his chest, he walked me to the bed, stood with his legs parting my knees. Then he watched, waiting like a cat eyeing a mouse.
“What do you want from me, sweet?” I started to close my legs. “Keep those legs spread,” he snapped in a tone that brooked no argument. I relaxed my knees and his eyes locked on to my core with a grin, alluding to all manner of salacious thoughts.
Declan was two different men. One minute, coaxing me along with sweet words, the next daring me to defy him. I craved the dangerous man who let the gentleman out in public, and the demon in private. The gentleman had parted company, sneaking through the door and locking it behind him.
“Where’s that sassy mouth of yours now, huh?” he taunted. His grin turned devious as he pushed a hand under the towel. It loosened around his hips. “You wanna have a look at my cock, sweetness?”
I sat forward, fingering the hem. “I didn’t take you for a tease.” I gave a quick yank that jerked his hips forward and the towel fell to the floor.
Surprise flashed over his face. “There she is,” he gloated, hand pumping over his shaft. And Jesus, the man could smack homeruns out of Busch Stadium with the likes of that thing. Total. Fucking. Beast.
“Ohmygod…” My throat went dry. Declan’s cock was long, thick, and hard; the head flushed the color of a ripe plum with a bead of moisture pearled at the tip. Veins stood out under velvety skin and large testicles hung heavy over powerful thighs. He was utterly masculine and I was captivated.
“Like what you see?” His eyes blazed with heat as I watched him stroke root to tip. He was so erotic, so at ease with his body. Thrusting harder into his hand, he reached down absently, circling his other palm over his heavy sac. “Damn. Look at those pretty little plump lips between your legs. You gonna be tight, sweetness?”
“Wanna find out?” I sent him an evil smirk. God, I wanted him to lose control. To see him unleash that animal he kept under lock and key. For him to crave me like an addict desperate for another hit.
“So pretty.” His eyes devoured every piece of me. “Don’t ever try and hide this body from me.”
Well, if that didn’t make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Without thinking, I moved forward swiped the salty bead of moisture away from his ruddy crown with my tongue. “Mmmmm.” Drawing the sound out, I closed my lips over the tip.
“Shhi…” He hitched out a breath, drawing it back in when my hand cupped his balls. Declan caressed my jaw, a strained expression etched deep between his eyes as he stroked the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Fuck, Avery. These lips are just as pretty as the set between your legs.”
I drew him deep, letting the swollen head nudge the back of my throat.
Declan’s muscles tensed; he grabbed my chin and backed away. “Won’t last if you do that. I wanna be inside you when I come.” Slanting his lips over mine, our mouths slid together warm and wet before he crawled over me, prodding my legs apart. He pushed back on his heels, tearing open a foil packet and rolled on a condom I hadn’t even seen. Eyes trained on my sex, he gripped his shaft and rubbed the length though my wet folds. Declan nudged my favorite bundle of nerves with the head of his cock before pressing tight against my entrance.
My body arched in invitation. Slowly, he inched into me; his muscles bunched and coiled with restraint. Exhaling through gritted teeth, he watched himself disappear inside of me. “Jesus, so pretty…so tight.”
“God, Declan.” I moaned long and low as my body stretched to fit his with a bittersweet burn. So slow. So careful not to hurt me. I wanted more, all of him, filling me up. I slid a hand down my abdomen, skimming fingers between us to feel where he fit me. I did it without thinking, without worrying what he would think. I only thought about what I needed, and I needed to touch him, get him farther inside. Maybe it was Declan, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I wasn’t concerned with my body right then, and I wanted all he had to give.
Declan growled, snatched my wrist away. “No.”
While he walked a fine line
between trying not to hurt me and taking what he wanted, I had never felt more powerful, or more desired.
“Avery, dammit. Stop wiggling.” His jaw clenched tight, and sweat beaded his forehead. That leash of his was ready to snap. Leaning up on my elbows, I pushed him deeper. With my nerve endings on fire, my skin became a conduit for our electricity as my muscles tightened around him.
“Shit.” Declan closed his eyes. Clenched his jaw tight.
“Don’t you want to see?” I teased, looking up through my lashes. Poor man had no idea he was creating a monster with his reactions.
He pried his eyes open, snarled, “Goddammit, if you keep fucking with me, I’m gonna lose it.”
“Promise?”
Pinning me with a hard look, he wrapped bruising hands around my hips and pulled as he pushed forward to the root.
“Oh, Christ.” I threw my head back, lost in sensations. The burn and the fullness, copious amounts of pleasure and a little bite of pain, the feel of his hips between mine, the sight of us melded together. My body bowed off the bed. “Move, dammit!”
Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?
With a self-satisfied smile, he started a slow grind with his hips, but that didn’t last. My moans got louder. His thrusts, quicker. Our curses, more frequent and vile.
“Jesus, so tight…sweetest little pussy.”
“Declan.”
Letting go of my thighs, he braced his elbows on either side of me; his damp chest pressed against mine. His thrusts turned harder, deeper, his breathing more frantic.
I reeled as the ache in my belly grew out of control. My body coiled tight around his, as his pelvis rasped over my swollen clit and his hard chest abraded my sensitive nipples.
“Open your eyes, Avery.”
Forcing my lids up, I looked directly into his eyes as I raked my nails down his back, listening to his hiss. My lips parted with a pant and his hot wet mouth overran mine.
