Never Been Ready

~Declan~



"Just get it f*cking done!" I roared, causing the personal assistant on the other end of the line to whimper in fear.

He sputtered off an acknowledgment, and I ended the call, sighing in frustration. I paced the floor of the hotel room that would be home for the next three months. I was usually calm and fairly easygoing. At times, I was intense maybe, but I was never one to cause a PA to piss himself with my voice alone. Angry and pissed-off Declan was a new thing. The people on the set didn't know how to react, and personally, I didn't either.

I had managed to screw up every one of my lines at the read-through yesterday, gotten in an argument with my director, and even pissed off the caterer because there wasn't enough coffee. I was now known as the bitchy diva on the set. F*cking great.

I couldn't concentrate. I was restless, irritable, and so goddamn horny.

Leah had said no. She had f*cking said no...to me. In my entire adult life, I'd never been turned down by a woman I had pursued. Call me cocky, but when I put my sights on something, I always got my prize. I'd stepped off the plane that night, ready to put Leah Morgan in my past. She was an aching need I couldn't squelch, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into those silky thighs once more, so I could walk away a cured man. But then, she'd opened that door, wearing a bathrobe and slippers, with a mug in her hand, looking absolutely dumbstruck. It was...well, adorable. F*ck! I hated that word.


Seeing her flustered and off her game had given me great pleasure. It reminded me of the quiet woman I'd met that night in the bar. I'd thought, This will be easy, simple. I'll be cured by morning, ready to start fresh and begin my life again —free of Leah Morgan.

I had taken advantage of her shock, playing into her bewildered reaction to my surprising presence. I'd stalked her, reminding her of how good we had been together that night, and her body had instantly blossomed under my touch. I'd had her in my grasp. Everything had been perfect.

And then, she'd said no. Her eyes had heated in anger, and she had taken a firm stance that had clearly backed up her words. It had taken a total one-eighty from the woman I'd just seduced not a minute before. I was learning there were many sides to Leah Morgan.

I'd never felt so angry, frustrated, and more turned-on in my entire life. No? What the hell? I couldn't leave, but I couldn't stay. I'd practically thrown my hotel information at her before walking out the door. As the door had clicked into place, I'd heard her curse in frustration, and I'd known that this wasn't over.

She was playing me or simply delaying the inevitable, and it would only be a matter of time before she came knocking on my door, begging me for more. I just had to wait it out. She'd be crawling back to my hotel, begging me to take her, in a day, two tops. I couldn't contain the all-out grin I had spread all over my face that night as I'd driven back to my hotel.

But now, it had been a week —a motherf*cking week. I didn't play games, and I wasn't a patient man. This cat-and-mouse game was making me restless, but I still couldn't back down. No matter how many women passed me in the hotel lobby, giving me a shy smile and wave, I couldn't give in. Even a blatant invite from my costar to visit her trailer had gotten nothing in return. I couldn't do it. I had unfinished business, and it demanded closure.

But now, it had been a week, and I felt like a fool. Did she think this was funny? Was I a f*cking joke to her? Did I misread the signals? Maybe she wasn't coming at all.

Declan James wasn't some p-ssy who waited around for a woman. Women waited around for me, and it was time I got back in the game. This addiction or infatuation I had would cure itself over time. Screw this. I was done waiting.

After giving myself a pep talk that even I didn't believe, I made about fifty laps around my room trying to get my head in the game. Then, I threw on my leather jacket and stalked over to the front door, setting my sights for the hotel bar. It was an upscale hotel, and single women were always mingling around, hoping to score a lonely rich man on a business trip. Feeling much less excited than I should be, considering I was headed downstairs to pick up an easy lay, I opened the door and nearly ran headfirst into a stunned Leah, who had her fist raised in the air like she was about to knock.

"Holy shit! You just about killed me!" she yelled.

I steadied us both in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

The look on her face abruptly changed from stunned to pissed, and I realized my question sounded more than a little rude.

"Sorry. I meant to say, how did you get up here, alone?"

I had left instructions with the front desk not to let anyone up without calling me first. I was booked under an alias. It sounds crazy, but there were all kinds of new requirements in the shitty life I'd acquired.

Leah grinned widely as we walked into the room.

"Men," she answered. "I can pretty much talk them into doing anything. And it just so happened that men were working the front desk, and they were very accommodating when I told them I wanted to surprise my boyfriend with an impromptu striptease, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise with a call."

"That's bullshit. That seriously didn't work," I countered.

"Oh, but it did. All I had to do was say the word striptease, and I had them eating out of my hand."

Much like I had done at her house, she settled herself on the sofa, making herself comfortable without asking permission. She had her spunk back tonight. Dressed in a low-cut black sweater, a short pink skirt, and heels, she looked fierce and very tempting. The flustered girl I'd walked in on last week was gone, and Leah, the firecracker I'd met in bed all those months ago, was back. Having met both sides of her now, I couldn't decide which I liked better.

"So, when exactly do I get my striptease?" I asked.

"Well, that's up to you, Hotshot."

"Hotshot?"

"Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition, and sexy as f*ck —it's a good nickname."

"All right, so what are your terms, Leah?"

I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself from just saying, F*ck it, and pinning her against the wall before she could lay down any terms or requirements. Because whatever she was about to say, I was going to agree. She didn't know it, but she had my balls in her perfect little hands, and I was at her f*cking mercy. I both hated and wanted her at the same time. She made me feel out of control and weak with need. I couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk away.

"I will not be an easy f*ck whenever you get too lazy to find a new bimbo for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed, wondering where you've been and what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting," she declared.

Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to hear.

"I want to be exclusive with you —for however long we decide to do this. I don't care about labels or dates. You don't have to take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The only thing I ask is that, for the time we are together, you are mine."

"Yes," I answered immediately, surprising us both.

"Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out or temper tantrum, Declan?"

"No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one request,"

I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers, and I heard her breath falter.

"And what's that, Hotshot?"

"Make it two," I amended. "First, the same rules apply to you. While we're together, for however long, you're mine, Leah," I purred against her ear.

Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged, giving me a quick sense of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and collected exterior.

"And second?" she asked timidly.

"Don't f*cking call me Hotshot."

She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before saying, "So not happening, Hotshot."





~Leah~



He stood and circled the room like a predator stalking prey. I was the gazelle, and he was the hungry lion. I could still remember the feel of his lips from last week when they'd moved against my neck, so soft and warm. It had been six months, but every detail had been memorialized in my memory —every touch, every moan, every earth-shattering second.

My hands trembled in anticipation, knowing those memories would finally become reality again. When you knew what you were missing, it was almost worse than anticipating something you'd never had. I was like a drug addict standing in front of a dealer, eagerly anticipating her next hit.

"I believe I was promised a striptease," Declan said, breaking the heavy silence that had filled the room. He sat down in a plush beige chair, kicking his legs up on the nearby desk. He placed his hands behind his gorgeous head and leaned back, like he was waiting for the show to begin.

"I don't recall promising you one," I fired back.

I was a little breathless at my new view. Seeing Declan sprawled out in front of me did dirty things to my mind. I wanted nothing more than to knock those legs off that desk and sink into his lap, so I could relive all the fantasies I'd been living off of for so long. But I was stubborn as a mule, and I refused to give in so easily. This was a game we were playing, and I definitely wanted to play with him.


"Mmm...well, seems you told the desk clerks you were here to give your boyfriend a striptease. We wouldn't want to disappoint the poor boys, would we, Leah?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"You're not my boyfriend."

"No, but you did just agree to be mine, didn't you? I think we'll start with the top. Lose it." His voice deepened, becoming darker, sensual, and sexy as hell.

My muscles tightened in response, and I instantly flushed. I felt like a raging inferno had erupted inside my body, melting me from within. Complying with his command, I rose from the sofa and slowly lifted my sweater up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor in a billowing heap. His hazel eyes darkened, becoming greener, as he took me in.

"Now, the skirt, Leah," he said, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor in front of him.

He leaned back in the chair, trying to appear relaxed, but his former calm was gone, replaced with the hum of sexual energy now coursing through his system. He looked feral, barely contained, and I loved that my presence was bringing the animal out in him.

Achingly slow, I slid the skirt down my long legs, still tan from the summer, until it joined my sweater in the growing pile of clothes. I was now standing before him in nothing but black lace and heels. Feeling emboldened, I reached for the closure of my bra.

Declan interrupted, "No, my turn."

The predator was now on the move, rising up from his chair in one fluid motion. He took a few steps, closing the gap between us, until our bodies were nearly flush. I could feel the heat radiating off his perfect body. He smelled like leather, aftershave, and something purely male. It was divine.

His eyes swept down my body before moving upward and finally meeting my own. They were bright, alive, and full of fire. His hand snaked around my torso, brushing my sensitive skin with his fingertips, until he found the clasp of my bra. With one flick of his wrist, it came undone, and I watched it fall to the floor. His sharp intake brought my focus upward again. His eyes swept hungrily over my breasts as his hands found my waist, pulling me against his hard frame.

"Do you remember me, Leah?" he asked.

Like I could forget. Like I hadn't spent the last one-hundred-and-eighty-days trying to forget him.

I shuddered as his lips found my collarbone and gently kissed my skin.

"Do you remember what it feels like to have me buried deep inside you?"

Oh God. I couldn't help it. I let out a small moan in response, and then I felt his lips upturn in a small smile against my shoulder.

"Do you think of me every time you come? Cry out my name when you screamed your release?"

His hand moved up my torso and squeezed my breast as his thumb rubbed my nipple into a hard peak. I instantly felt my panties drench at his touch. My body's physical reaction to him was so intense that I could feel my knees quivering beneath me. I hated that a man could make me feel this way, so helpless and out of control, but I couldn't get enough. I knew the moment Declan had shown up at my door last week that I'd end up here. It was only a matter of time. An addict can hold out for only so long before she needs another fix, especially when her fix is six plus feet of raw alpha male.

"You haven't answered my questions, Leah," he whispered against my ear.

"Yes. God, yes," I moaned.

His hand traveled down my body before reaching the lacy edge of my panties. When his hand stilled, I nearly screamed in frustration. I needed his touch like I needed air. He owned me in that moment, and he f*cking knew it.

Taking a step back, his voice rough like gravel, he pointed to my panties and said, "Slide those down your pretty little legs, won't you?"

Happily agreeing because it meant I would be that much closer to my goal of being f*cked to death by Declan, I started to step out of my heels.

"Uh-uh, Leah. Keep the heels. Just the panties," he instructed, his eyes dark and full of desire.

Giving him a small smirk, I hooked my fingers into the sides of my panties, and ever so slowly, I slid them down my slim legs, making a show of the process. My eyes locked with his again, and I noticed his fists tighten at his sides as his jaw ticked. Apparently, I wasn't the only one so overly affected by the other. He looked like a ticking time bomb waiting to blow.

"Back against the door," he commanded, motioning toward the suite entrance with a nod of his head.

He followed me as I walked backward, taking a couple of steps, until my back hit the cold wooden door. He drew near, and I felt his fully clothed body become flush with mine. Seeing him still wearing every article of clothing while I stood bare was thrilling. It made me feel wanton and desirable, and as I looked into his eyes, I knew he felt the same.

His hand found my breast again, and my nipple pebbled at his familiar touch. Declan kissed my collarbone —a favorite place for him, it seemed —and then his tongue swept up my neck until his teeth gently tugged my ear.

"From now on, Leah, you will only scream my name when you come."

I whimpered. The man made me freaking whimper in want. I needed him to touch me —right now. If I were stuck on a desert island without food or water and I was given the choice of a picnic basket filled with sustenance or an hour with Declan James, I wasn't sure what I would choose. Right now, I'd say, Screw the food. I'll take the hot-as-f*ck actor, please!

His hand traveled from my breast, down my stomach until it found my slick core. I silently begged, pleaded, and offered him my entire 401(k) plan if he would just end the torture and stroke me.

"Oh God, Declan, please," I moaned.

He lazily ran his fingers over the smooth juncture of my thighs, clearly enjoying the wax I had done just a few days earlier.

"Please, what, Leah?"

"Please make me come. Damn it, Declan!"

He chuckled softly, and then that large alpha male dropped to his knees before me, never breaking eye contact. He shucked off his leather jacket quickly, and I took a moment to admire the new view. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt underneath, and it clung to him, showing the hard lines and muscles of his toned body.

Yum.

"Spread your legs," he said gruffly.

No sooner had I done as he'd commanded, he was on me, burying his head between my legs in one swift motion.

"Oh f*ck!" I screamed.

His tongue found my *, sending waves of pleasure rushing through my body. Back and forth, his tongue moved over the tiny bundle of nerves at the center of my body until I thought I was going to explode. Just when I was getting close to coming from that alone, he plunged his tongue into my core, causing me to cry out in ecstasy. He mouth f*cked me with wild abandon, seeming to get lost in the process. His hands pushed me further into the door, and then he lifted one leg at a time over his shoulder until I was suspended against it, seated on his shoulders. He never stopped working me with his tongue, and the new angle allowed him to penetrate deeper.

"God, I forgot how sweet you taste," he said against my flesh.

In those minutes, I thought I fell in love with Declan's tongue. It was a work of art and should receive medals or trophies. If there were an award for the best tongue action, Declan would win, hands down.

I weaved my fingers through his dark locks as his thumb found my *. The two sensations together sent me over the edge, making me free fall into bliss. My body shook from the force of my orgasm, and I silently thanked Declan's massive shoulders for holding me upright. He let my legs return to the floor, and slowly, he rose, licking his lips with the same tongue he'd just used to f*ck me senseless.


Without a word, he began to give me a striptease of his own as he lifted his white T-shirt in one graceful, fluid move. My memories of his body hadn't done him justice, and the few films he'd done were strictly shirt-on type movies. Those directors were seriously stupid. They could make a shit-ton of money just by having Declan parade around shirtless for a few minutes. Women would line up for days to see that movie.

His broad tanned shoulders gave way to a torso made for stroking, petting, and licking. Along with his six-pack abs, he had a perfect V that pointed to all things dirty —things my mind and body couldn't wait to do again. As if he heard my naughty thoughts out loud, Declan smirked while his hands headed for his belt buckle. My libido cheered him on, begging his hands to work faster. He grabbed a condom from his back pocket, and then his faded jeans dropped to the floor, leaving him standing before me in a pair of black boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. He was hard, massive, and so ready for me under the thin barrier of fabric. As his hand went to the waistband of his boxers, I pushed off the door, stopping him.

"No, let me," I said boldly, needing to put my hands on him immediately.

He stilled, gave me the condom, and allowed me to take over. The instant my fingers touched the hot skin of his abdomen, he hissed in pleasure. His eyes flared an intense green as my hands wrapped around his back and slipped into his boxers to grab his tight ass. After giving it a firm squeeze, I pulled the boxers down his legs, dropped myself to the floor, and leaned back onto the balls of my feet. Ripping the wrapper of the condom apart with my teeth, I slowly slid it down the long length of his shaft.

Seeing me in this position must have been the last straw for Declan. Before I even had a chance to admire the view from below, I was hauled up, slammed against the wall, and devoured by his mouth. Our tongues tangled and moved together, and his hand fisted in my hair like he was punishing me for some unspoken act. I felt the same because no man should be this consuming or make me feel this unglued. Men were fun but on my terms. Declan had a way of turning me inside out, twisting me in knots, and just when I thought I had recovered, he'd do it all over again.

As we feverishly kissed, he reached a hand down my body until he found my center, and then he slid his fingers into my wet core.

"God, you're so wet," he said against my mouth, "so ready."

He removed his finger, lifted me up higher on the door, and then brought me down onto his rock-hard shaft. I cried out at the sudden invasion, but he gave no mercy as he pulled out and slammed back in again. The door shook and vibrated as he f*cked me, and I gladly took all of it, letting out my cries of pleasure, completely uncaring what people passing by might think.

"That's it, Leah. Let those boys downstairs hear how much I like to please my girlfriend. Let them know whose name you scream out when you come."

"Oh God, yes!" I cried as he continued to thrust and fill me completely.

"No, wrong name...although I have been called him a time or two. Try again, Leah," he taunted.

His fingers found my sweet spot, and he began to rub my * as he pounded me against the wall with his powerful strokes. I could feel my muscles beginning to tighten and clench, and I knew I was close as my stomach began to flutter.

Just when I thought I would pass out, I screamed, "Declan!"

I came undone, fisting his cock like a vice, which sent him over the edge and he joined me with a deep guttural moan.

Out of breath and completely sated, I sagged against the support of his body as his hand braced us against the door. I didn't think I'd ever been this tired from sex before, and I'd had sex with Declan before, so that was saying something.

As I lay against Declan's hard shoulder, I felt him beginning to harden again inside me. I lifted my head and met his eyes in surprise. His smug smile said it all.

"What? Did you think you were done? Silly girl." He laughed.

That man was like the Energizer Bunny. He kept me going all night long, never stopping longer than to change the condom and grab a glass of water. He was an unstoppable force.

God bless Declan James.