When the sexiest little moan left her lips, I clamped my hand over her mouth. I used the hold to guide her backward to lean against me.
“Remember, you have to be quiet,” I whispered against the shell of her ear.
She nodded, but I didn’t move my hand. Twisting her head slightly to the side, she moved her mouth to my fingers and drew one between her lips. Her eyes closed as she sucked my finger as far into her perfect mouth as she could. In a matching rhythm, she rocked her hips back against mine.
“Fuck,” I groaned against her throat. The way she was going, I’d be lucky to last a couple of minutes.
Because I didn’t want her lasting memory of me to be someone who two-pump chumped her in the bathroom, leaving her unsatisfied hours before she got back on a plane, I used my free hand to reach for her clit. My fingers danced around that magic button, causing her to suck harder on my other hand.
“Fuck.” The word left my lips louder than before, but still quiet enough to be captured by the walls around us.
Needing more of her, I slammed into her, pushing her hips against the vanity and capturing my hand in the process. I opened my eyes and met her burning gaze in the mirror. The position left everything exposed and it was a damn shame I didn’t have more time to fully appreciate it. My mind ran rampant with imaginings of what the position would be like if she’d been completely nude. The way her breasts bounced in time with the thrusts of my hips was such a fucking turn-on.
Craving her lips, I pulled away from her, twisted her around so that her arse was perched on the marble counter, and then lined myself up before slamming into her again. The new position allowed me to capture her mouth, and I took full advantage, letting my tongue mimic the rhythm of my cock.
It was fast and hard, but I didn’t feel I had much choice. I needed her too much to walk out of the room without us both being satisfied.
Because the bathroom wasn’t as cool as the rest of the hotel room, a sheen of sweat broke out across her brow and my own felt damp too. It wasn’t long before she tumbled over the edge, dragging me along with her.
After taking a quick second to clean up, Alyssa pulled her panties back on and set about cleaning off her make-up. Not quite ready to face the interview, I stepped into the space behind her and nestled my cock between her arse cheeks. “You know that shade of lipstick looks great on your lips,” I murmured as I kissed her. “But do you know where I think it would really look awesome.”
“Where?”
“Wrapped around my cock,” I said.
She met my gaze in the mirror again. Her mouth formed a little O, as if anything I could say could still shock her despite the time we’d spent together. She spun around to face me before leaning against me so that her boobs pressed against my chest. “I’ll try to find a matching shade, and we can test that theory next time I see you.”
“Fuck, Lys, you make it hard to let you go.”
“I know the feeling. Now, we need to get this stuff off our faces and go talk about ourselves for the next half hour or so.” She sounded as enthusiastic about it as I felt.
After getting off most of the crud on my face—and getting her to help me with the rest—I made sure I was decent, that I didn’t have jizz on my shorts or anything like that, and we both headed out.
The reporter hadn’t arrived yet, but when I caught Eden’s gaze it was clear she knew, or had guessed, what had transpired in the bathroom. To fuck with her a little, I fixed a smirk on my lips and adjusted my crotch as I walked.
She raised an eyebrow and I waggled my brows at her in return. Even though she’d missed her afternoon delight, I’d had mine, which was what mattered.
“Mummy, you looked beautiful,” Phoebe said. “Like a princess.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Didn’t you think Daddy looked very handsome too?”
Phoebe nodded.
“The camera really does love you two,” Eden said. “I saw a couple of the photos as they came onto his screen. They look great, and that’s before the Photoshopping.” She laughed.
“Thanks again for being here to look after Phoebe,” Alyssa said. “It definitely made it easier.”
“No problems at all. It was too easy. She’s a sweet kid. I can stay right up until your flight, Alyssa,” Eden said. “I’ve got plans for dinner with Morgan a little later tonight though. And then who knows?” She winked at the implications.
“I do not need to know about your sex life with Morgan,” I said.
“Well, you seemed so willing to share yours with me a minute ago. It seemed only fair to reciprocate. Especially considering your lack of a warning left us thoroughly, shall we say, interrupted.”
I shook my head at her as Alyssa laughed. God, I fucking loved the sound of that laugh. It spurred me into action. I reached down and grabbed her again, pulling her to me and kissing her sweet lips.
Seconds later, the door opened and gave us our cue to break apart.
A young woman, probably no older than Alyssa and me, bounced through the doorway. Her platinum-blonde hair was swept up into a haphazard bun, with bits sticking out everywhere. Her legs were wrapped in a pair of jeans so faded and torn it was surprising they were still holding together. The soft blue blouse she wore over the top helped to restore some of the professionalism that her jeans wiped away.
“Hi, you must be Declan and Alyssa.” The way she introduced herself reminded me of an overly excited puppy. In another life, her orange-painted lips, blackened eyes, and obvious stamina probably would have been a target for my heat-seeking dick, but now I could just chuckle at her exuberant personality. She stuck her hand out as an introduction. “I’m Sara.”
Alyssa and I both said, “Hi,” and then Alyssa introduced Eden and Phoebe.
After nodding in greeting to Eden, Sara crouched down in front of Phoebe. “Lovely to meet you, Phoebe.”
With a shy smile, Phoebe glanced up from her colouring and said, “Hello.”
Sara asked a couple of questions to Phoebe, just simple things like what she was colouring. Things clearly designed to make Phoebe more comfortable. Despite the fact that the questions were all directed down at our daughter, it was clearly working on Alyssa as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stance relax, her smile grow, and the mask she put on so often with strangers slowly fade away.
After a few minutes chatting with Phoebe, Sara rested her hands on her knees and looked up at me. “Are you ready to do this?”
Swallowing down my fear over the possible questions she might ask, I nodded. “I am. Lys?”
Alyssa gave me a smile that suggested her worries were at least as deep as mine. Maybe deeper, because she’d never had to deal with the press before. I’d been grilled before in interviews, with questions that covered everything from my meteoric rise to my spectacular crashes. It was easier knowing that we had control over what would go to print.
When Alyssa nodded as well, Sara pointed to the couch.
Flashes of the photo shoot, and the resulting bathroom session, flooded through my mind. I tried to hide my smile as I sat, but was sure I failed when I met Alyssa’s questioning gaze.
“You don’t mind if I record, do you?” Sara put a tablet on the desk. It was already recording, but I figured she was just getting our permission on record.
Both Alyssa and I told her we didn’t.
“Now, Declan, I know you’ll be familiar with this process, but Alyssa, just pretend it’s the three of us and you’ve invited me around to chat, okay? Try not to think of the recording. I know you’ve managed to get final copy approval, so nothing that you want off the record will go to print anyway. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Alyssa said.
“Awesome. Let’s start with the easy stuff first, shall we?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-DRIVER
SARA PULLED OUT a notepad and flicked through it, clearly having a specific page in mind. Her eyes scanned the page, and then she obviously found the list of questions she must have o
rganised. “Declan, until recently, you’ve had a reputation as a ladies’ man. You’re even on record multiple times stating that you didn’t think there was a woman out there for you. It’s, uh, quite the turnaround to now be revealing that you are in a committed relationship with the mother of your three-year-old daughter, isn’t it?”
That was the easy stuff? Fuck. A nervous chuckle slipped from me as I tried to work out the best way to explain the shift that had happened for me in the last month. “What can I say other than denial isn’t just a river in Egypt? I’ve always loved Alyssa. On some level, I think I knew that. I fought so hard against it because I didn’t know how to cope with it. The last month, having her in my life again, has reminded me of all the good and bad we shared back in high school. Everything that makes us who we are, both as individuals and as a couple.”
“So you were high school sweethearts?”
Both Alyssa and I said “yes” at the same time.
“And why did that end?”
A loaded glance passed between Alyssa and me. She was silently asking me to answer, but I would have anyway because ultimately the decision to leave had been mine. After all, she’d tried to reconcile even before she knew about her pregnancy.
“I was offered a chance to race, and at the time I thought that was the most important thing.”
“And now?”
“Now, well, I wish I knew then what I’ve learned in the last month. I think the choices I made would have been a little different.”
“How so?”
“Even though the thought was terrifying at seventeen, I actually think that Lys and I could have made a go of things in Sydney. There were universities down here she could have gone to. At the very least, we could have tried to make it work long distance.”
“With that being the case, do you regret the choices you made while you were apart?”
I cast my gaze in Alyssa’s direction and she wrapped her hand around my arm. We’d touched on this between us in so many little ways, but I wanted to frame my answer in a way that wouldn’t hurt her. “Yes and no. All of those things hurt people, hurt Alyssa, but they also ultimately led me back to her. They forced me to hit rock bottom and now I know that the only way is up. When I rebuild, I’ll be building on a stronger foundation than I’ve ever had before. Plus, I’ll be doing it with Alyssa at my side. And Phoebe.”
“Your daughter?” It was clear it was a question purely for the recording.
As if she thought I’d called her, Phoebe wandered over. We’d told Eden that it was fine for her to be around us during the interview if she was getting unsettled.
“Look, Daddy.” She held up the colouring book to show me the now purple-skinned princess she’d been working on.
“Very nice! That one deserves a high five,” I said, holding my hand up. She smacked her palm against mine and then ran back over to Eden. “She’s, uh . . .” My gaze followed her, and I trailed off while I tried to think of the appropriate words. When I moved my focus back to Sara, I was certain a smile a mile wide crossed my lips. “Well, she’s the light of my life. God, that sounds so clichéd, doesn’t it? But it’s true. She gives me a reason to be better, in a way that even Alyssa could never provide.” I reached for Alyssa’s hand and clasped it in my lap, letting her know I hadn’t meant the words in a malicious way. She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, reassuring me that she hadn’t taken offense. “Just a few months ago, anyone who knows me would have said I wasn’t exactly the daddy type.”
Alyssa chuckled. “You would have said that about yourself.”
I couldn’t help laughing because it was true. “Probably. Now though. Well, I can’t imagine a life without her in it.”
“He’s so good with her too.” Alyssa’s smile made my heart melt. “A natural.”
My grin matched hers. Fuck, I was growing into a sappy wanker being around her—the worst part was that I couldn’t even find it in myself to care. “I wouldn’t say a complete natural. The first time I was alone with her, man she had me by my—” I cut myself off before I finished my sentence by naming parts of my anatomy best not discussed with a national magazine. “Let’s just say she had me wrapped around her little finger the whole time.”
We talked a little more about Phoebe, and about the mistakes I’d made in the past. Alyssa chipped in where she could. Before long, the conversation turned to the article in Gossip Weekly. We were careful with what we said, because they could easily sue us for libel if we said anything too derogatory about them, but by the same token, we didn’t want to let anyone think that we were happy with the bullshit they’d printed.
Sara was a complete professional, touching on subjects just deeply enough to be interesting to readers, without delving too deeply into the story about how I left Brisbane in the first place and why Alyssa and I hadn’t had any contact in the intervening years. She even skirted around her knowledge of Emmanuel expertly, leaving his history off the record completely.
Although we had no real clues what they’d ask before we started, we didn’t have any complaints by the end. We’d been certain they wouldn’t bother to ask anything that we would veto anyway, because it would be pointless and a waste of everyone’s time. Especially when we just wouldn’t answer the question. In the end, because Sara had avoided the worst topics for us, neither of us had shied away from any of her questions.
The interview had become a study in reflection of things that had happened over the past few months—years really—of my life. Sara’s frank questions had forced me to consider some things that I’d been happier to ignore, and reminded me of some things I never wanted to forget.
When we finished the interview, Sara told us we were welcome to use the hotel room for the night if we wanted, as it was paid for until the following morning, but I refused, explaining that Alyssa and Phoebe were due on a plane. And I sure as shit didn’t need, or want, a hotel room on my own.
“The issue is due to the printer at the end of the week, so I’ll courier a copy to you tomorrow afternoon for final copy approval. I have no idea how you managed to wrangle that. You must have one hell of a negotiator on your side.”
Alyssa looked to the floor as Sara said the words.
I wrapped my arm around her waist. “The best.”
And after almost an hour reminiscing about what my life had been like before, I couldn’t be happier that she was at my side. In a little over a month’s time, she’d be down in Sydney permanently, and our life could truly begin.
Before that, though, I needed to ensure that the ones who’d almost cost us our happiness paid for their interference.
Whatever the price.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: SECOND CHANCES
AT EIGHT THIRTY the following morning, I was parked in front of a familiar building trying to stave off a panic attack. I was breathing through my nose, repeating my mantra over and over, and trying to think of Phoebe and Alyssa. It was all failing.
All of it was useless.
I was fucking useless.
The impression of the steering wheel was probably branded across my forehead because I’d pressed my face hard against it to hide from prying eyes. My heart sputtered and raced, pounding so hard that I could almost taste each beat. Sweat coated my palms no matter how many times I rubbed them against my pants. My fists were clenched so tight around the leather that my short fingernails were digging into the flesh of my palms. I was a bundle of nerves strung together with a pile of contradictions. Saliva flooded my mouth, but my throat was too dry. I couldn’t breathe. My was heart too big in my chest; my lungs too small. A churning rocked my stomach as it both twisted around the quickie breakfast I’d had, and yet felt empty at the same time.
Why was I even bothering to turn up for the meeting with Danny? From the moment I’d awoken, every possible outcome of Danny’s request had assaulted me. None of them were great.
It wasn’t like he was going to do a one-eighty and give me my fucking job back. He’d said as much in every conv
ersation we’d had so far. He was probably just going to rub my nose in his decision one more time. Remind me of all the reasons he didn’t want me on his fucking team.
Why am I here?
Would anyone even notice if I drove home and never showed? It was a thought I’d had at least ten times on the drive over. Twice, I’d even got to the point of pulling over and bringing up Danny’s number on my phone, ready to tell him I wasn’t coming in.
Despite that, I was cleaned and pressed, and ready for the meeting. At least on the outside. Inside, I was a quivering mess. It was only made harder by the fact that I’d had to fend for myself all morning. I’d awoken alone. Had breakfast alone. Showered alone.
Just like last time they were in Sydney, the precious few days I’d spent with Alyssa and Phoebe had spoiled me, and crashing back to reality was fucking hard.
Fuck, Morgan was right. At some point I’d definitely traded my cock for a vagina. Not only that, I’d done it willingly. I’d fucking do it again to see the awe in Phoebe’s turquoise eyes as she looked at me when we told her the truth about me. To taste Alyssa’s lips over and over. To spend mornings having breakfast together and making jokes over our Weet-Bix.
Fuck, I missed them.
A chuckle escaped me as I lifted my gaze to the rear-view mirror. “You’ve had a night where you thought you lost them,” I chastised my reflection. “You made it through that. Is going for a meeting with Danny really worse than that?”
Letting my feet carry me from the car before the doubts could settle back in, I headed into the office. At the security desk, I greeted the guard. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, but I didn’t think he would be. Even though it wouldn’t be news that was shared with everyone in the building, Danny would have told key staff that I was coming.
What did surprise me was that after getting me to sign in and giving me a guest pass, the guard left me to find my own way to Danny’s office. Generally guests would only be allowed past reception with supervision. It could only have been on Danny’s instruction. None of the security staff would have risked their jobs doing something so reckless just because they knew me.
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