Falling For Declan (Falling Book 8)

by Tracy Lorraine

  Georgia must notice where my attention’s focused because she climbs onto my lap and runs her hands from my chest, down to the waistband of my shorts. I lose myself in the feeling before I’m distracted the second I hear Nicole huff out a frustrated breath and grasp the bottom of her vest. I suck in a sharp breath as she begins to reveal her toned stomach beneath, although I’m fairly sure Georgia thinks my gasp is due to her grinding down on me. This won’t be the first time I’ve seen her in a bikini; hell, my mother likes to point out often that we all used to run around the back garden naked during the summer months. But everything’s different now. I’ve no idea what happened, but Nicole is no longer the annoying little child who used to monopolise all of Lilly’s time. The Nicole in front of me right now is all woman.

  Her hair falls back down as she drops her top to the floor, and I swear to god that time stands still as she shakes it out. The red waves fall over her shoulders as her tits bounce. My mouth waters as I stare at their fullness pressing against the almost too small bikini top. My gaze lowers and I see a series of feather tattoos over her ribs as she pops the button of her shorts and drops them down her legs, forcing my eyes to follow.

  Fuck me.

  I see Georgia’s smile out of the corner of my eye before she leans forward and starts kissing down my neck. She thinks my arousal is for her, because of her, but in reality she’s doing very little for me right now.

  As the anger that Nicole’s caused this kind of reaction within me battles with my lust, I watch her down one of the drinks she carried out before grabbing the next and climbing into the tub. Her heated eyes hold mine as she sinks down into the water, hiding that perfectly curvy body from me. It’s the first time since she came out that she’s acknowledged me. I’m amazed my burning stare hasn’t caught her attention before now. Still unable to break my connection with her, I fall back into my old ways.

  “I can’t believe your body’s not covered in scales, Ginge.”

  “Fuck you, Heff,” she says, dragging her death stare away from me before bringing her drink up for another huge gulp. It’s only now I wonder how many she’s had, seeing as she’s practically polished two off in the last few minutes. Her eyes are their usual sparkling green, but they’re a little wilder than usual. However much she’s had, it seems it’s affecting her. I think back to our teen years when we all had our first taste of alcohol and recall it made her a little crazy back then. I can’t help excitement bubble up in my stomach that a drunk Nicole might be the thing to really spice up this party.

  Georgia grinds down on my hard cock once again and I can’t help the groan that rumbles up my throat. Nicole’s eyes dart straight up to me and narrow, hatred pouring from them. Keeping my eyes on her, I run my hands up Georgia’s back. Nicole watches every bit of movement. I tangle my fingers into her hair and pull her lips to mine. I kiss her like I’m absorbed by what she’s doing, but she has no idea my eyes remain open and locked on to a pair a few feet away. Nicole’s expression hardens and her mouth drops. I assume it’s in anger, but my fucked up, lust filled mind convinces me it’s quite the opposite as she watches me with another woman.

  Everyone around us chats away, totally unaware of the tension descending around them. Eventually, I get fed up of Georgia’s scent filling my nose and I lift her from my lap and plonk her in the empty seat next to me before rearranging myself in my shorts. Nicole watches the whole thing.

  Letting my head fall back against the edge, I wonder what the hell is happening to me. The girl I’ve never been able to stand has somehow turned into a woman I can’t get out of my head.

  The torture of sitting opposite her is soon cut short when one of our customers comes over and starts talking about the surf shack and how he might know the perfect person to run it. My desperation to find a suitable manager for the place has me getting out and following him inside for a drink while he tells me about his niece.

  I get lost talking about business, and I soon find myself chatting to a group of guys who’ve never surfed before. Fuck knows how they ended up here tonight if they’re not surfers, but if they’re about to pay for some lessons, I couldn’t care less.

  Our conversation is interrupted when chants start up.

  “Strip, strip, strip,” comes from the other side of the room, and when I round the corner, my mouth drops open as I take in what’s happening on my dining table.

  Nicole is dancing on the solid oak top in her little black bikini as she sings along to Nicki Minaj’s Super Bass. She may be drunk off her arse but she fucking nails it. Every note is perfect, and when she also raps along without missing a beat, my appreciation only increases. I’m mesmerised as I stand shoulder to shoulder with almost every other guy in my house as she dances in time with the music, her body moving with such grace.

  The chants break though my haze and my fists clench at my sides as anger bubbles up within me when I so much as think about her doing what they’re suggesting. I barge my way through the gathered crowd—not that most of them notice. My anger only increases when I find BJ at the front of the crowd, cheering her on. I shoot him a look that has him shutting his mouth immediately, but it doesn’t mean his eyes don’t go straight back to enjoying the show.

  “NICOLE,” I shout when I’m beside her, but she’s too engrossed in what she’s doing to hear me.

  The song changes to Anaconda and all the guys cheer when she shows no sign of stopping.

  “For fuck’s sake, NICOLE,” I try again, and thankfully this time I get her attention. Her brow creases as she gives me a hard stare. If she thinks that’s going to stop me getting her off that fucking table and away from all these drunk, horny guys, she’s got another think coming.

  Her dancing continues but it’s clear the alcohol is starting to get the better of her because she’s getting more and more out of time.

  I shout once more, gaining her attention again, only this time she falls over her own foot as she turns to glare at me. The crowd gasps as she starts to fall.

  I barge a couple of guys out the way as I lunge towards her. There’s no way on this earth I’m letting some other man get their hands on her when she’s vulnerable like this.

  I get to her just in time as her body tumbles towards the ground. She falls into my arms and immediately starts wriggling to get away. I hold her to me, tighter than probably necessary, but she’s not getting away, especially if she intends to resume her one-woman show.

  I march away from the crowd, trying to ignore their complaints about me taking away the entertainment, and carry her up the stairs towards my bedroom.

  We make it up about three steps before she turns her head into my chest and pukes over the both of us.

  Fighting the urge to gag at the mixture of alcohol and vomit running down my stomach, I begin to run towards my room. Kicking the door open, I head straight for my en suite before lowering Nicole on to the floor of the shower. Turning it on I take the showerhead and drop it to the floor while it warms up. Grabbing a hairband that Georgia must have left on the basin, I pull Nicole’s rich auburn curls from her shoulders and tie them out of the way. Their fruity scent fills my nose and I can’t help but allow the silky lengths to run through my fingers. I may still take the piss by calling her Ginge, but her childhood orange locks are long gone, replaced by this rich, deep gorgeous shade of red. Once I’m done, I grab the shower and start by washing the puke off my chest and stomach before turning it on her.

  She’s slumped in the corner with her head resting against the tiles. Her eyes spring open when the warm water hits her, and I watch as she stares at the tattoo of an angel on my lower leg before slowly running her gaze up to my shorts, finally coming to a rest on my lower stomach, exactly like she did the other morning on the beach. My cock twitches from her obvious interest in my body, and I will it to stay put. I shouldn’t be getting any ideas about Nicole, especially when she’s blind drunk.

  “DECLAN,” I hear screamed from the hallway before the door opens. “I’m coming i
n. You’d better not be doing anything I shouldn’t be seeing,” Lilly warns. “Ben said you disappeared with—” She comes to a stop as she rounds the corner and finds us in the shower. “What happened?”

  “She barfed over both of us.”

  “What the hell was going on? I heard people talking about her dancing or something.”

  “She was up on the dining table.”

  “She was what?” Lilly squeals.

  “She’s off her face, Lills. Has she even eaten anything?”

  “Uh, yeah I’m pretty sure she had a...” she trails off as she thinks back. “No, maybe she didn’t eat it.”

  “Lilly,” I growl. “I’d be fucking livid if I knew she allowed you to get in this state.”

  “Whoa, look at you getting all defensive over your arch enemy.” The sarcasm in her voice pisses me off.

  “They were chanting for her to fucking strip. Not that she was really wearing much to start with,” I snap.

  Regret fills Lilly’s features before she tells me to get out of the way. “You might have rescued her, but I won’t allow you to see her naked. Now get out. Go and get her one of your t-shirts or something.”

  With one last look over my shoulder I pull the door closed behind me and do as I’m told.

  Nicole

  Images of an intricate tattoo, a pair of navy and white shorts, and the deepest V lines I’ve ever seen filter into my mind. I’m so comfortable I don’t want to move, but I need to get up and let Bailey out.

  My head pounds the second I shift it. “What the fuck?”

  I blow out a slow breath as my stomach turns over. What the hell happened last ni—Oh. Shit.

  Declan’s house. Hot tub. Some cocktail that tasted like juice. Super Bass.

  Sitting up slowly and looking around, I realise I’m in a room I don’t recognise. My head spins to the other side of the bed. No…surely I didn’t?

  I can’t express how pleased I am there’s no passed out guy lying next to me. That is, until I lift my gaze and find a very amused Declan looking at me from a chair on the other side of the room.

  My stomach turns over at the sight of him and I throw the covers off as I rush to the door at the end of the bed, hoping I’ll find a bathroom behind it.

  After emptying the contents of my stomach, I lean back against the glass wall of the shower, and rack my brains for any more memories. Anything about how I ended up in Declan’s bloody bedroom, wearing what I can only presume is his t-shirt with nothing underneath.

  When I look up, I find him in the doorway. His fingers are holding onto the doorframe above him, perfectly showing off his naked, muscular torso. I know I’m obviously taking my fill, but I can’t drag my eyes away, especially when they make it down to his jersey shorts that leave hardly anything to the imagination.

  “You about finished?”

  “Where’s Lilly?” I ask, not even acknowledging that I was checking him out.

  “Lucas picked her up late last night. You’d already passed out, so we let you be.”

  “Right. How exactly did I end up here?” I ask, gesturing to the floor.

  “Too much sex on the beach,” he says with a smirk.

  “WHAT?”

  “The cocktail. You drank too much of it.”

  “Oh.” I glance around the room in the hope I might see my clothes before standing and stepping towards Dec. He makes no move to get out of my way; instead, he just stares at me. “What?”

  “Nothing, Ginge. Nothing at all.”

  I look down to where his eyes are focused and see my nipples pebbled against the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re an arsehole,” I mutter, folding my arms across my chest and pushing my way past him.

  “That’s no way to talk to the person who stopped you making a total fool of yourself last night. You owe me an apology as well.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Repeat after me,” he says patronisingly as he stalks into his bedroom behind me. “I’m sorry for puking over you, Declan.”

  “Whatever.” I wave him off and walk over to his balcony, overlooking the bay in the distance. The view is stunning, but the company ruins it.

  I feel his heat at my back and my traitorous body shivers in response.

  “You might not like it, Gingernut, but you needed me last night. Fuck knows how you’d have ended up if I didn’t rescue you.” He’s so close I can feel his breath on my neck. Goosebumps prick my skin and I feel my nipples once again press against the cotton. “You needed saving from yourself.”

  I swallow down my regret, firstly for drinking so much and secondly for whatever it is I don’t remember I did. I knew coming to his barbeque was a really bad idea.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “Over on the chest of drawers, clean and dry.”

  “Why did they need to be cleaned?” I ask through gritted teeth, because I’m fairly sure I don’t want to know. I haven’t drank in months, and it seems that I still go slightly crazy when I’ve had a few too many.

  “You puked over both of us. I had to put you in the shower to clean you up.”

  “You put me in the shower?” Embarrassment floods me as I think about him stripping and washing me.

  “Someone had to do it.”

  I’m fucking mortified.

  * * *

  “Oh my god, that smell,” I say as I meet Dec and his two housemates in his kitchen thirty minutes later.

  “Liam’s the house cook,” Dec says, looking me up and down.

  I’m once again in my own clothes and feeling a little more like myself since having a shower, but what I really want is to relax back in that huge bath at Lilly’s.

  “Declan, you kept that one quiet. You should have told me you wanted her from the off.”

  “Fuck off, BJ. I don’t want her.” His voice drips with disgust. I hate that tears sting my eyes, but his comment hurts.

  “I’ll be leaving, then.” I try to make my voice as strong as possible but even I don’t miss the waver.

  “Stay and have something to eat,” Liam offers, handing over a plate.

  I look down at the bacon sandwich and my mouth waters. Declan’s death glare almost has me refusing until he opens his mouth to say something.

  Holding my breath, I wait to find out how badly his words are going to cut this time.

  “Eat that, then I’ll take you home.”

  My mouth drops open at his offer. I was going to walk, so I’m more than grateful.

  “Thank you.” I keep my eyes downcast, unable to look Dec in the eye knowing he saw me naked mere hours ago.

  * * *

  “Here’s the dirty stop out,” Lilly announces with a laugh when I walk into her kitchen later that morning. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than first thing. Liam’s cooking helped.”

  Lilly looks almost impressed. “You mean Dec didn’t kick you out the second you woke up?”

  “Not quite. At times he was almost civil.”

  “I thought you’d be too embarrassed to stay.” Her words remind me that I still have no idea what happened last night.

  “I DID WHAT?!” I squeal after Lilly reveals the events of the night before.

  “I’m so sorry. If I knew, I’d have stopped you, but I was chatting outside. Dec sorted you out though.”

  “He fucking showered me, Lills. Like, saw me naked showered me.”

  “That’s what he told you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s a lying shit, Nic. He may have put you in the shower but I was the one to sort you out. Mind you, if I didn’t turn up I’m pretty sure he would have done it. He was weirdly protective of you.”

  I stare at Lilly as I try to process what she’s just said. She must be mistaken because Declan would never be protective of me…Although, I can’t lie, I’m shocked that he was the one who stopped me making a fool out of myself last night.

  I spend what’s left of the morning soothing my muscles and trying to rid myself of last night�
��s embarrassment surrounded by a million bubbles.

  I’m thankful that by the time I’m due to start my first shift at View Point, my hangover has almost gone. Sadly, neither the place nor the patrons have had a make over since I was there the day before, and I feel on edge from the moment I step foot in the place.

  * * *

  I’ve had a few jobs in my life but I can say hands down that was my worst first day ever. They weren’t joking when they said they were short staffed. My induction lasted all of five minutes before I was expected to know everything about not only the bar but also the guest house. The woman who’d interviewed me was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I spent the night working with the owner. Well, I say working with, but he spent most of the night locked away in his office. There was a Keep Out sign on his door, which I presumed was there just as much for the employees as it was the customers. When he did show his face it was clear he wasn’t impressed with my appointment. Not only was I too young, but I was also too female for him. Deciding I was better than an ageing, bald man with a protruding belly and a bad attitude, I sucked it up and got on with my job, telling myself that as soon as something better came along, I’d be out of there.

  Every patron leered at me, and the offers I’d received had me wanting to leave and never return after only an hour behind the bar. I soon realised why I was offered the job so quickly; I don’t think they had their pick of interested employees.

  By the time I left later that night, I was utterly exhausted and not looking forward to returning the next afternoon. The walk to my car had me even more on edge; it was pitch black with just the noise of the trees ahead filling my ears. The guest house sat on its own, totally secluded. Anything could happen out here and no one would know.