by H. Maloney
He moves his other hand from resting on my thigh and drags his fingernails up my abdomen, causing my back to arch clear off the table. He brings it back down and lightly slaps my clit once, twice, and that’s all it takes. My whole body explodes as pure pleasure ripples through every muscle, turning it weightless.
***
When the waves finally ease to a stop, I open my eyes to see Declan standing exactly where I remember him, his fingers still inside me. I look up into his face to see him smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Slowly, I feel him remove his fingers, which I really appreciate as it is extremely sensitive down there at the moment. He lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean of me. So hot. If I had any energy at all, I’d go down on him just for that.
There’s a knock at the door. “Dude, Jason’s here.”
He glances at the clock on the wall. “Shit. He’s early.”
“You can tell him that. He’s waiting in your office.”
My gaze travels down his muscular form, appreciating the colorful sleeves decorating his arms in contrast to his ink-free torso. I love it. The lack of ink lets me clearly see every divot and dent of his muscles, and there are oh so many. Gradually, I make my way down to his clearly defined V, leading me directly to his still-throbbing and very sizable erection barely contained beneath his shorts
He follows my gaze and shrugs. “Next time. I think we’ve been conspicuous enough today.” My eyes flare wide accompanying a swift intake of breath. He’s right. We seem to keep doing that.
“Well, I’m not angry at you anymore,” I joke weakly. He chuckles and bends down to hand me my clothes. I jump off the table and start dressing.
When we’re both relatively put together, he cups my jaw in his hands and kisses me. “You go ahead, I need a minute. Need to spend a few minutes thinking about Hillary Clinton or something.”
I laugh. “Ew. You have fun with that.”
“Now get out of here.” He lets go of my jaw and drops his hands to his sides. “I need to focus on dick-shriveling shit, and you’re not helping.”
“Uh, sorry?”
“I’m sure.” He slaps my ass and I head through the door laughing, closing it behind me.
CHAPTER 11
MEG
“Was it glorious? He just seems like the guy type of guy who could make it glorious,” Allie says between bites of her burger.
After I booked it out of the gym, I asked Allie to meet me for lunch. I needed to spill my guts before I screamed about my awesome encounter to the world.
“How exactly do you peg someone for that? Is there like a radar I can buy?”
“Nah, I’ve got one built in. It’s something about their smirks. The cockier their smirks are, without bordering on the lewd side, is directly proportional to their bedroom performance capabilities. But that’s such a good idea. If only I could build and market my mad skills in the form of a cleanly packaged product. Just point it at someone and it would read out on the screen ‘go’ or ‘no go.’ That would save so much time and heartache for women everywhere.” I snort. “But you haven’t answered my question yet.”
I sigh happily. “It was most definitely glorious. So much so that when you look in the dictionary under ‘glorious,’ you see a picture of Declan.”
She sighs dramatically and places her head in her hands with a mocking dreamy look on her face. I lean forward and knock her arms out from under her. “Hey, now. Don’t make me tell your boyfriend you’re skeeving on someone else.”
“You wouldn’t do that. Believe me, no one wins if you do that. I wouldn’t get any, and then you wouldn’t get any when Wiley puts Declan six feet under. So really, it’s in your best interest to keep this to yourself.”
She has a point. “So, how is Wiley? I haven’t seen him at the bar for a little while.”
“You know.” She shrugs. “Club stuff keeping him busy.”
That’s a loaded statement coming from Allie. She hates when Wiley leaves her in the dark—which, unfortunately for her, is most of the time. I respect why he does it though, and I know she does too on some level. The less she knows, the safer she is. Such is the life of an MC old lady, and I don’t envy it one bit.
“He’s been kind of pissy at me though,” she continues.
“Why? Male PMS?”
“Nah, it’s not his fault. I haven’t been giving it up quite so much recently. Haven’t been feeling well. Sometimes it sucks being female.”
“Blasphemy!” I cry. I point the French fry that had been halfway to my mouth at her accusingly. “Quick. Grab a boob. That’ll make you feel better.” Because really, who doesn’t like boobs? And when you’re female, you get your own set. I fail to see how you don’t win being female.
She erupts in body-shaking laughter. “You’re such a retard. And I would grab them, believe me, but they hurt too much recently.”
I freeze, realization washing over me. “Uh, Allie? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
She stops laughing and glares at me. “That’s not fucking funny.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not adding that to my stand-up routine. I’m serious.”
Her face morphs into horror. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”
I nod in understanding. “Call me later.”
Wow. I can’t imagine what I would do in her situation. I don’t even know if Wiley wants kids. Shit, I don’t even know if Allie wants kids; we never talked about it. I’m only twenty-six and haven’t been in a serious relationship in quite some time, so I guess I always figured I could worry about it later. Allie’s twenty-nine though, and Wiley’s in his mid-thirties. Maybe this is their later?
I think they’d make seriously cute kids. I can imagine a little girl with Wiley’s dimples and Allie’s attitude. I smile to myself. That kid would be unstoppably adorable.
Shit, now my head is filled with tiny onesies and even tinier chubby smiles. There’s just something about kids when they smile; it’s like the joy doesn’t just show on their face but their whole body. Their tiny legs kick like they’re so happy they can’t contain their excitement in just their faces. I would love to be the recipient of that kind of joy one day.
I feel my dreamy smile fall from my face. That won’t happen anytime soon though. Aside from not being in a committed relationship, which I would definitely prefer, I need my life back first. And that is easier said than done.
I shake my head, focusing back on Allie. This is for them to work out and anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. She may not even be pregnant.
***
“I’m pregnant.”
I almost laugh to myself, but I know that’ll earn me a punch so I keep my expression carefully neutral.
Allie just pulled me down the bar away from where patrons were occupying barstools. I glance around to make sure no one could still hear. Satisfied, I look back at her and say, “And how do we feel about that?”
“Fucking terrified.”
“Well, that’s a pretty legit feeling, but what about long-term feelings?” I hedge carefully.
She looks down. “Happy. Excited.” She glances up beneath her lashes at me. “I don’t know how Wiley will feel though. We never talked about it.”
“Gotta tell him soon, Allie. He’ll be angry if he finds out you’re keeping something from him.”
She nods. “I will.”
I lean forward and give her a hug; she looks like she could use it. When she lets go, she reaffirms in a more decisive voice, “I will.” She walks away to a customer who’s waving her down, and I get back to work.
I laugh to myself as a thought crosses my mind. Wiley’s going to be a hundred times more protective than he is now. It’s going to be fun working here for the next few months. I wonder if I can put a pool together to see how many people Wiley punches for any kind of imagined slight against his baby mama.
Oh, yeah. This is going to be awesome.
CHAPTER 12
MEG
It’s been a
day and a half since I’ve seen or heard from Declan. I could text him, but he did have his fingers in me the last time I saw him so I decide to be a lady and let him come to me.
He doesn’t disappoint, either. He walks into the bar at about ten o’clock and grabs a stool at the far end of the bar from where I am.
I turn back to Dennis, who I was talking to before Declan walked in and distracted me. I catch the tail end of his sentence, “… rhinestones for your vagina.”
What the fuck? “Huh?”
He winks. “Just checking if you’re paying attention.” On a more disturbing level, he says, “I know shit. I get around.”
Ew. “I’m walking away now.” He barks out a laugh that follows me down the bar.
“Hey, Declan.” I look around him for his usual drinking buddies. When I realize no one’s with him, I ask, “Where’s your fellow troublemakers?”
“Came alone tonight.” I raise my eyebrows in question. His answer is a smile.
My heart stutters. He came here for me. Biting back a smile, I grab him his usual Shiner and hand it to him.
“Thanks.” He looks around at the crowd. “You guys are pretty busy tonight.”
“Not too bad. It lets me catch up between fight nights. When are you fighting Martinez, anyway?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you ready?” His response is his trademark smirk and I laugh. Cocky bastard. “Okay, okay. I take it back.” I point my finger at him. “You better be though. I’m going to bet money on you and if I lose it, I’m going to take it out on you.”
He laughs. “That’s more incentive to lose than it is to win, beautiful.” Gulp. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
Attempting to change the subject, I ask, “How was your afternoon yesterday?” My mouth dries up and I start blushing furiously when I see his pupils dilate. “I mean your appointment. How was your appointment?”
Declan’s gaze lands on the pulse throbbing at my neck, but he lets it pass without comment and just answers my question. Thank God. “It went well. I’ve got a buddy getting out of the service soon, and he wants to open an auto shop. Trying to hook him up with my real estate developer since he wants to open up around here.”
Real estate developer? That sounds very adulty. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Thirty-one. Why? That too old for you?”
I decide to tease him, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes in exaggerated thought. “You know? I think you might be. I think you’d be more at home with Dennis’s crowd, now that I think about it. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.” I throw the bar towel over my shoulder and go to walk away.
My brain registers the sound of a stool clattering to the floor at the same time I feel hands at the back of my hair and on my neck. I gasp in surprise as Declan’s lips land on mine. Whoa. Note to self: Declan does not like to be teased about his age... I need to do it more often if this is what it gets me. He nibbles on my lips and I get lost in the feeling, forgetting that we’re in public—my place of employment, no less. I’m completely focused on the sandalwood and soap smell that is Declan and the tingles he’s causing to race through my nervous system. As if my vagina needs any more encouragement.
All too soon, he pulls away. I try to follow him until the bar digs painfully into my rib cage, making it clear physics won’t let me go further. I pull back and use the bar for support, slowly peeling my eyelids open to stare at him.
“Still too old for you?”
“No?” I respond, but it comes out as question. I clear my throat and try again, my voice much surer. “No.” There. Nailed it. I stare directly into his dilated green gaze and blurt out, “I think you’re perfect for me.” And I mean it in every sense. This guy gets to me like no man ever has, and I don’t want him to stop whatever spell he has over me.
I straighten up and run my hands through my hair, just trying to give my suddenly awkward hands something to do. I try to get us back on track. And by ‘us’ I mean ‘me.’
“So, your buddy’s a mechanic. That’s cool. I wish I knew how to do more to my car. In the back of my head, I’m always worried I’ll end up on the side of the road in the middle of the night, not knowing how to change a tire, and praying triple A will hurry up before one of those ‘good Samaritans,’—” I air quote “—comes along and tries to take the car off my hands, or worse, my life.” I stop myself. I’m babbling, and I know it.
Declan just studies me carefully for a moment, head tilted. I try not to fidget. I’m mentally putting a lock on my tongue so I don’t start on a new rant just to distract myself. “Is that why you take self-defense? You’re afraid someone would try to take advantage of you?” he finally asks. “You’ve clearly been at it longer than my classes.”
Uh-oh, danger zone. Verbally back away. Slowly. “Something like that,” I hedge the same way he’s done, glancing everywhere but at him. “I just wish I knew a little more about being on the offense, you know? I don’t want to have to wait for an attack to react; I want to be proactive. Sense the awful direction an encounter is headed, strike first, and runaway quickly.”
Finally looking back at him, I see Declan nodding thoughtfully, palms planted on the bar. “I understand. Street brawling, effectively. That also happens to be something I can help you with.”
“Are you offering classes in ass-kickery?”
“In a sense. I’m offering you a class in ass-kickery.” His lips quirk in humor.
I pause, shocked. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yeah, why not? It’ll help you feel safer, and it’ll help my technique to go back and refresh myself on the basics.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
I assure you it is a. Huge. Freaking. Deal. He’s offering to take time out of his busy schedule running his business, teaching classes, and training for his fights to teach me just so I’ll have more peace of mind. He isn’t dismissing my fears with eye rolls and a ‘that’ll never happen’ attitude, and he isn’t just telling me best of luck. He’s willing to do the work. For me. Seeing the genuine warmth in his face and in his offer, my heart starts trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I can feel the world reorient around me. This is the moment it happens. The moment my heart leaps from my chest and nestles in his palm to do with what he will. Everything from this moment on is uncertain except that if he walks away, I’ll never be the same.
I place my hands on his warm ones and try to convey how I feel without freaking him out. “Thank you, Declan.” I pause, trying to bolster my suddenly breathy voice. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
He shifts his gaze from mine and pulls his hands away, a little uncomfortable, and downs the rest of his beer. “Listen, I’m going to head out. Let me know when you’re off so we can get started.”
Confused by his abrupt reaction, I merely tell him, “Sounds good. I’ll check the schedule and text you later.”
He gives me a chin lift, leaves some money on the bar, and heads out.
I must not have hidden the crazy as well as I thought. I shrug to myself. Awkward exit, yes, but he made it clear his offer was still in place, so that’s what I’ll cling to.
CHAPTER 13
MEG
I sent Declan my days off the next day when the new schedule came out. He responded to tell me to meet him at Corps Strength Saturday evening at seven. That’s it, none of his usual teasing. I tried analyzing the events of the other night over and over, flipping it around in my head, and still no informative epiphany. Maybe I had a bat in the cave? I’d probably act a little odd with someone who had a visible booger too. Well, whatever the case may be, it’s been added to my calendar for now.
Declan’s fight is tonight and I’m working the bar with Caitlyn; at least this gives me the chance to corner him if he’s still being weird. Tonight also happens to be St. Patrick’s Day, which traditionally for the bar means costumes. I’ve pulled out the big guns, just in case. I’ve come too far to turn back now.
I’m
told the tradition started a few years ago when a patron came in dressed mockingly as St. Patrick with a rubber snake. Each year, more and more people would dress up as nymphs, leprechauns, and such. Now it’s basically a second Halloween around here—a green one.
I’m decked out in a genie costume, complete with sheer harem pants and a short bra-like vest for a top. My whole midsection is open for public viewing, and my boobs are on display in all their magnificence. I can’t pull off the short stuff like Caitlyn’s booty shorts for her ninja turtle costume, but thank God Mother Nature counteracted these freaking hips with something equally distracting.
It’s about eight before I see Declan walk in. I’d just delivered a round of drinks to the Barbie look-a-likes. Literally. The bleached bimbos are dressed in varying green outfits complete with the “B” backpacks, just like the plastic doll. My internal grumbling at the strange women is cut short when I catch Declan frozen, staring at me. He hasn’t said a word, but his dumbstruck expression instantly lifts my spirits. I grin and walk to him, hesitating when I reach him. He hasn’t exactly declared to me that we’re dating, so I don’t know how to react to him when we’re the center of attention.
Before my smile can falter though, he pulls me to him and kisses me deeply. He holds me tight for a moment, weaving his hands into my hair. My insides warm at the affection. When he pulls back, he says, “I can’t let you watch the fight looking like this. I’m liable to get distracted and get a boner. These guys might actually start to think they’re attractive.”
I laugh loudly and pull back to spin for him, milking it. “You like?”
He expels a harsh breath and runs a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “Hell fucking yes, I like.” He steps closer once again so he’s whispering in my ear. “I like so fuckin’ much I’m going to demand you wear it when you do finally suck my dick.”
Blood races to the surface of my skin. I glance around to make sure no one’s watching and respond, “Yes, master,” teasing him.
