Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  “Basically, I left Alyssa behind when I left Brisbane,” I said. “What can I say, we were together in high school, had the cliché after-formal moment, and weren’t careful enough.” Even as soon as the words were out, I wanted to reel them back. I had basically called Phoebe an accident, which was exactly what my father had thought of me. I wouldn’t be him. She might not have been planned for, but I didn’t ever want her to think she was resented or loved less than completely.

  “Oh shit,” Morgan whispered, pulling me from my worry. He glanced at Alyssa again. “That’s the girl?”

  I nodded.

  “You were tapping that before you left?” he asked. His gaze trailed her body once again, this time with a more appraising eye.

  I clenched my jaw and bit back the harsh words in my head. It wouldn’t pay to piss off Eden’s boyfriend in her apartment, or to alienate one of my few friends in Sydney.

  “And you still left?”

  I nodded. “I was a fucking idiot.”

  “You’re not wrong,” he whispered again with a grin, his gaze roaming up Alyssa’s legs to her arse.

  I punched his shoulder to draw his eyes off her. “I’ll tell Eden you were perving on her,” I threatened.

  “Yeah,” he said, his eyebrow raised as if daring me to say a single word. “Well, I’ll tell your little woman about your life down here.”

  “No point.”

  For a moment, a victorious smile twisted the edges of his mouth.

  “I’ve told her everything.”

  “Everything?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  I nodded.

  “That’s—”

  “Brave?” I finished for him, cutting him off.

  “I was going to say stupid.”

  I shrugged. “It’s the only way I know to earn back all of her trust. I don’t want some bullshit I didn’t tell her coming back to bite us in the arse later, you know? That almost happened with that damned magazine, and I won’t let it happen again. I’ve only just found her again after so long apart. I’m not willing to throw that away over a past mistake—or a future one.”

  “God, man, you left with a frank and beans and came back with an empty plate.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, laughing. It barely registered with me that the words were a little louder than the rest of our conversation.

  “Declan,” Alyssa called out, before inclining her head in Phoebe’s direction.

  I nodded sheepishly. It was easy to fall back into old habits talking with Morgan. I turned back toward Morgan to continue our conversation but stopped when I saw he’d paled until he was as white as a sheet.

  “Holy fuck,” Morgan whispered almost silently. “That’s the girl. From Brisbane. The girl you left behind.”

  “Yes, Morgan,” I said, speaking slowly, as if trying to explain a very fucking difficult concept to a child. “That’s Alyssa.”

  “Wait, I didn’t think you ever wanted to talk to her again? Didn’t she do something to make you hate her?”

  I shrugged. “I know that’s what I said, but I’ve never stopped loving her. At least on some level. I know that now.”

  “Holy fuck,” Morgan repeated. His face was growing paler, yet somehow greener, by the second.

  “What is it?” I asked. “You look like you’re gonna barf.”

  “I swear, I didn’t know,” he rambled, his eyes flicking between Alyssa and me in rapid succession. “Fuck, how was I supposed to know? When you said . . .” His hands came up to scrub his face. “Fuck!”

  “Eden, you’re going to have to come over here and decipher for your boyfriend again,” I called out jokingly, trying to draw something solid from him, even if it was just a “fuck you.”

  Eden and Alyssa both turned back toward us.

  I saw Morgan’s eyes roam to Alyssa’s face, and she offered him a small smile. I smiled at my girl, so willing to give him a chance just because he was my friend and Eden’s boyfriend.

  Morgan exhaled heavily beside me.

  “Seriously, dude, what the fuck’s wrong?” I asked.

  Morgan didn’t turn away from Alyssa’s face as he spoke. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to help you out, squirt. You said you didn’t want to talk to her anymore and . . . I . . . when I heard the message . . . Then on your computer . . . I just thought . . . well, I . . . Fuck. I never knew she was pregnant. I didn’t think before . . . I wasn’t thinking. Well, I wouldn’t have been would I . . . with everything we were taking that night.”

  Something clicked for Alyssa with his incoherent rambling. “It was you!”

  Morgan finally stopped staring, dropping his eyes to the floor instead.

  I looked to Eden to see if she could enlighten me to what was happening, but she looked as confused as I felt.

  “You fucking arsehole!” Alyssa screeched before launching herself at him.

  Eden quickly spun around and grabbed Phoebe, pulling her swiftly from the room.

  I wrapped my arms around Alyssa, pulling her away, but not before she threw a couple of punches in Morgan’s direction. Judging by the soft thud, at least one connected. We could deal with the fallout from that after she was calm. More important was figuring out exactly what those two had worked out about each other. Eden seemed as out of the loop as I felt. I held Alyssa tightly in my arms as she fought against me.

  “Calm down, baby,” I murmured into her hair.

  “You don’t understand,” she screamed. “It was him.”

  I spun her in my arms so that she was facing me instead of Morgan. Hopefully if he was out of her sight, it would allow her to calm a little. I took the risk of loosening my grip and used one hand to brush her hair off her face. “What was him?”

  “The email, Dec,” she seethed even as tears filled her voice. “He sent the email. That’s why you don’t remember. It’s because you were right. You didn’t do it.”

  Her words sunk in. Morgan had been the one who sent her an email of me in an orgy with cheerleaders, in an attempt to have her stop contacting me. Somehow, despite that information, I couldn’t find it in myself to blame him as much as she obviously did. I wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he’d taken that choice into his hands, but ultimately I was still to blame. He may have pushed the send button on the email, but he hadn’t coerced me into the middle of the girls; he hadn’t set up the camera. He hadn’t kept the recording. The timing of the email—before he hooked up with Eden—meant he was likely as off his face on whatever I’d procured as I’d been. The footage was already there and that was my fault.

  Plus, I’d also been the one who told him, repeatedly, that I never wanted to speak to, or about, Alyssa. In the haze I had of my memories from that time, I could remember some of the things I’d called her and I deserved to have her hate me for them all.

  I pulled her tighter to me and whispered to her, “It’s in the past. We’re making a new start now. One where I’ll never hurt you, and Morgan wouldn’t dare.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t you see? It hurt so much to see that. Of everything that you ever did to me, that was one of the most painful.”

  I saw Morgan turn and leave the room, his hands clenched into tight fists by his sides.

  I tipped her chin back lightly with my finger, drawing her gaze to my face. “Baby, I’m sorry that I ever did anything so stupid and allowed it to hurt you. I will never again do anything that will hurt you.” I dipped my head and pressed my lips to hers.

  “You did what?” Eden’s voice screeched from the bedroom. “So help me, Morgan John McGuire, I cannot believe you would deliberately try to hurt a young girl like that.”

  Phoebe started to wail, no doubt as a result of all the raised voices.

  “Come to Mummy,” Alyssa called to her. She ran across the room and practically flew into Alyssa’s arms.

  Eden came out from the bedroom with an apologetic look on her face.

  “I’m sorry, Eden,” Alyssa said. “I think it would be best if I took
Phoebe with me.”

  Her pronouns worried me. The use of I instead of we, and me instead of us wasn’t a good sign. Wondering just how much Morgan’s stuttering confession had set me back, I sighed.

  Alyssa turned to me, obviously misunderstanding the reason behind my sigh. “I’m sorry, I know he’s your teammate and friend, but I just . . . I can’t deal with this.” She shook her head and raised her free hand in a dismissive wave. “Not today.”

  “Forget Morgan,” I said, shooting Eden a remorseful smile. “We’ll just get the photographer to work around Phoebe, okay?”

  Alyssa nodded.

  Eden grabbed her keys. “Let me come with you to the shoot. I can watch her there.”

  Alyssa went to argue.

  “Please? It’ll just be me, and it’ll mean you can relax and enjoy the process.”

  With the corners of her eyes still pinched, Alyssa relented. “Okay, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to relax anyway.”

  “Look, I know he can be an arse, but he usually means well.”

  “That sounds like someone else we all know,” I joked. It didn’t bode well for me if Alyssa and Morgan didn’t get along, not when Morgan had always been such a big part of my life in Sydney. Instead of a laugh, my joke earned an if-looks-could-kill-I’d-be-dead type glare from Alyssa.

  “Thanks for changing your plans to come with us, Eden,” Alyssa said, clearly ready to leave the apartment entirely. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Like Dec said, we can probably ask the photographer just to shoot around Phoebe if he needs to.”

  “It’s fine. I need some time away from the bozo in there anyway, before I do something he’ll regret.” She indicated the bedroom where Morgan was still hiding from Alyssa’s rage. “Ready to go?”

  I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Morgan; not only had we interrupted his afternoon delight, but he’d also become public enemy number one where Alyssa was concerned.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SNAP HAPPY

  WHEN WE REACHED the hotel, I’d thought it would be a fairly easy afternoon. I was so fucking wrong, it wasn’t funny. While Phoebe sat and watched, under Eden’s supervision, the make-up team transformed both Alyssa and me.

  For a little over an hour Alyssa was primped and preened to within an inch of her real appearance. For almost half of that, the two person make-up team slathered all sorts of crap on my face too. The feeling of an extra layer of stuff over my skin wasn’t something I could get used to. Although I’d had to do it in the past, for promotional shoots and the like, it was never something I enjoyed.

  After the gunk was on my face, and my hair was styled into a slightly longer version of my trademark spikes, the photographer called me over to help block the lighting and get a few solo shots.

  “The camera loves you two,” he called.

  The remote flashes linked to the photographer’s camera lit up the room again.

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. After the first thirty minutes of his over-the-top enthusiasm, I was definitely done. And that had been over an hour earlier. I wondered how much longer it would take, just so I could escape his constant chatter. I didn’t really have too much cause to complain about any other part of the shoot. In fact, as photo shoots went, it was relatively pain free. The fact that I’d been able to spend 90 percent of the time kissing and snuggling with Alyssa was a definite advantage.

  When Alyssa had finally joined me, we were put into a range of poses that weren’t entirely natural, but that we were assured would look awesome in print. Even though the positions were awkward, they drew a smile from my lips because in each one, I was entwined around Alyssa—in poses designed to show off our obvious love.

  Better still, Phoebe was in our line of sight the whole time, playing with Eden off to the other side of the room. Once we were done with the photo session, we’d just have the interview, and Phoebe could join us for that. Just like we’d agreed with the magazine, she was off limits to the photographer and they’d kept to their word so far which gave me some confidence for the overall article.

  It was good that they didn’t press the issue because neither Alyssa nor I would allow our daughter’s photo to be splashed all over a national magazine. Not if we could help it, and definitely not for an article we were doing to try to salvage my career. Even though I needed to be family friendly to get sponsors back onside, I wasn’t going to allow photos of Phoebe to be the catalyst for the turning point in my future. I wouldn’t use her in that way, as a pawn in some fucked-up game of someone else’s design.

  Ultimately, although Alyssa had stood by my side for the photoshoot and would join me for the interview, it had been her choice to do so. I wouldn’t make that decision for Phoebe or force her into the spotlight. It was too much of a burden for my little girl.

  I wasn’t stupid though. I understood that even though Talia’s paparazzi campaign seemed to be targeted at me for the moment, it was still possible, likely even, that Phoebe would be papped at some stage. Especially after the Woman’s Idea article went to print and brought her into the public’s attention, at least in print. How long would it be before another magazine included photos? Then people would know what she looked like, and regardless of whether I was able to salvage something of the shit my career had descended into, she would be known as my daughter.

  That was already more than any three-year-old should have to deal with.

  “Just a few more shots,” the photographer called. “Let’s have you here.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me so that I was sitting on the couch, close to the armrest. With a little twirl of his fingers, he silently instructed me to twist so that my body faced down the couch, with one leg hanging off the front and the other resting up against the backrest. “And you here,” he added as he helped Alyssa into position.

  I swallowed heavily as she settled into the pose that he was after, lying between my legs with her chest facing mine. Most of her body rested between my legs—her hip pressing against my cock—and her head was curled against my shoulder so that I could feel every breath she took blowing against my ear. Even though I was trying to be professional, the pose put her in the right spot to send thoughts of her shifting slightly to a reverse cowboy position into my head.

  I glanced down at Alyssa’s face and saw her stifling a smile. She had to have been able to feel my ever increasing hard-on. God, I wanted to kiss her, to toss her against the back of the couch and fuck her hard.

  “Now, caress her face.” The photographer’s voice reminded me where I was, and who else was present.

  Taking care not to twist in a way that my body would be blocking hers, I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek.

  “Perfect.”

  The shutter whirled a couple of times and then the flash exploded twice.

  “Now, lean in as if you are going to kiss her.”

  Taking my time, and waiting for him to call stop, I moved my lips closer to Alyssa’s.

  “A little closer.”

  My lips barely grazed Alyssa’s when he said to stop. It took everything in me to stop myself and not continue on to the kiss. I did though. Instead of claiming her mouth, devouring her the way that my whole body longed to, I hovered my lips over hers so that each whispered breath she took brushed over my skin. It was agony. The sweetest torture I could imagine. I met her gaze, and the hunger coursing through my body was echoed within their honey-gold depths.

  Fuck.

  The shoot was a bad fucking idea for one reason and one reason alone—she was going straight to the airport and I’d be left in Sydney with nothing but my hand to satisfy the fires she’d stoked within me.

  The camera clicked a few more times. A couple of times the flash accompanied it, a couple of times it didn’t. He was obviously playing with the lighting.

  “And now let’s get an actual kiss.”

  I didn’t even wait for any further instructions; I was so desperate for her. My lips crashed against hers and my tongue darted straight into her mouth. H
er replying kiss was just as needful.

  The photos forgotten, I moved my hand from her cheek to her hair, drawing her closer to me. A sigh slipped from her into the space between us. For a few blissful seconds, I forgot about everyone else in the room. The kiss was so all-consuming. My body twisted so that Alyssa and I were chest to chest, and then I rolled slightly to pin her beneath me. I rubbed my cock against her pussy and drew a small moan from her lips.

  It was only when I pulled away and watched Alyssa panting for air that I remembered where we were and what we were doing.

  Shit.

  I only hoped Eden had the good sense to keep Phoebe occupied while I’d practically dry-humped Alyssa in front of everyone.

  The photographer cleared his throat. “I, uh, I think we’ve got everything we need.”

  “Brilliant,” I said. “Can I get this shit off my face now?”

  He laughed. “Sure. I think they left some make-up removal wipes in the bathroom. Sara will be here in about ten minutes for your interview.”

  Without letting her argue, I grabbed Alyssa’s hand and dragged her into the bathroom. The second she was in the room, I shut and locked the door behind us.

  “Dec, what are you—”

  I silenced her by clasping her face between my palms and drawing her lips to mine again.

  “We’ve only got ten minutes,” she said as she pulled away.

  “Fuck, Lys, with how much I want you right now, I won’t even need that.”

  “There are people right outside the door.” Despite her arguments, when I guided her hand to my crotch, her fingers caressed my cock over the material of my shorts.

  My lips formed a familiar smirk. “We’ll have to be quiet then, won’t we?” I raised one brow at her as I ran my hand up her thigh and over her panties. With one stroke of my fingers along her pussy, I confirmed she was as wet and ready for me as I was hard and aching for her.

  I pushed my shorts down just far enough to pull my cock out, guided her to turn around so she was leaning against the vanity, and slid her panties down to her ankles. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, I entered her from behind.