Never Been Ready

~Leah~



"Oh f*ck...I'm gonna...oh God!" I screamed right before the orgasm racked through my body, sending pleasure to every nerve ending I possessed.

Declan hovered over me in bed, his gaze hot and intense. His mouth came down onto mine in a scorching kiss that mimicked what the rest of his body was doing as he thrust in and out of my pulsating core. His movements became urgent, and his pace quickened as his body grew closer to the edge of release.

My fingers bit into the skin of his back, and he muttered a curse while he pushed my legs forward, so he could drive in deeper. I could feel the beginning of a second orgasm, and I knew Declan was holding out. He was waiting, like a smug bastard, for me to come again. He always did this, holding back for the second one to come, like he was some sort of sexy god who could conjure an orgasm with the flick of his wrist.

Not that I was complaining.

Nope, not one f*cking bit.

But the man could show a bit of humility. He worked my body like he owned it, making it move and explode to his will. And shit, maybe he did...but he could smile a little less about it.

The second orgasm tore through my body, and I convulsed beneath him, screaming his name, as he finally let go with a masculine cry and came with me. He collapsed onto the bed, taking a second to make sure he wouldn't land on top of me, but he still pulled me towards him, curling his arm around me with a firm grasp. Our combined labored breaths filled the small space of my bedroom.

Turning to my side, I watched as he tucked his other hand beneath his head and stared at the ceiling fan while it made lazy circles above us. He was so handsome, a perfect example of male beauty. He was simple yet rugged. He wasn't one of those pretty boys plastered all over the teen magazines. He was the exact personification of a bad boy—the kind daughters were always told to stay away from. And I'd just enjoyed every single inch of him —twice.

As my eyes roamed over his body, I focused on the tattoo centered over his heart. My fingers grazed over it, causing his attention to flitter back to me.

"What does it mean?" I asked as I traced the Celtic knot.

It was a circular design of twisting knots that wove their way over the middle of his chest, directly over his heart. The center of the tattoo was open, empty as if it were waiting for something.

He gave me a look that conveyed confusion and a bit of amusement. It'd been a few weeks since our little arrangement started, and this was probably the first personal question I'd asked. So, sue me. I was curious.

"Well, you know what it is, don't you?"

"Yeah, it's a Celtic knot. But I always thought a Celtic knot traditionally stood for love. So, did you have this tattoo done in honor of someone?" I asked, hoping like hell he wasn't going to tell me a story about some long lost love. I knew what we were doing here wasn't a relationship, but I wasn't keen on lying in bed, naked, while the guy I'd just f*cked bared his soul about his broken heart.

Shit, why did I even ask?

"Yes. Me."

"What?" I asked, completely astonished as I slapped him on the chest. "You're so full of shit!"

"No." He laughed. "I'm serious. I got it to remind myself that when it comes down to it, out of everyone on this Earth, we will always choose ourselves."

"That's not true," I whispered.

"No?" he questioned. "We are a very selfish species. We might say we do things for one reason or another, but when push comes to shove, we do what we do for one specific reason —to put ourselves ahead. When a relationship falls apart and one person says it's for the best,, they're really just looking out for their own best interest.

I began to protest, but he just continued on.

"When you offer someone your space in line at the coffee shop, it's not out of the goodness of your heart. It's because you were hoping that person would notice you, or you wanted to be closer to the person behind them. Nothing we ever do is selfless. We love ourselves first."

"You sound like you speak from experience," I said softly.

"Don't we all? I come from a very selfish family. My dad snuck around on my mother and left her with nothing when he died. When I finally got out of there, I convinced myself that I'd never make the same mistake and fall in love, but I did. We all do. I met Heather the first week of my freshman year, and I was hooked. I thought we'd spend the rest of our lives together, but when I wanted to pursue my dreams and move to Hollywood, she told me she wasn't willing to make it work. She didn't want to come with me, and she wasn't willing to wait. Seven years together were gone like that...because she didn't want to take a chance on us. She chose herself instead," he said, keeping his focus on the fan as it continued its endless cycle of motion.

"Have you spoken to her since?" I asked, still running my fingers over his skin where the ink ran underneath.

"Not a single word," he answered with a bit of finality.

I knew the conversation was done then. I glanced out the window and saw the sun had set in the sky while we had been busy under the sheets.

It was a good thing I didn't have to work. We had wasted the entire day.

Shit! I did have to babysit though. I frantically whipped my head around, searching for the alarm clock on my nightstand. I didn't know why it took me so long to find it. It wasn't like it had taken a four-hour walk while I had been busy orgasming my brains out. Finally locating the clock, I sighed, seeing I had an hour before I had to be at Clare and Logan's.

"You okay?" Declan asked, rising up to lean on his elbows. He was clearly amused at having witnessed my twenty-second panic attack.

"Yeah, I guess I just lost track of time, and I realized I have to be somewhere tonight."

"Oh."

"I, uh...have to babysit for Clare and Logan. Logan has been having so many doctor appointments lately. They haven't really had any alone time outside of the hospital, so I volunteered to watch Maddie while they spent a few hours out. You do know that Logan has cancer, right?" I asked.

His brows furrowed together, and he nodded silently.

Declan and Logan had been friends since childhood, almost as long as Clare and I had known each other. I knew their relationship hadn't always been great, but I had thought it would have occurred to Declan to call Logan or check in on him since getting into town. But according to Clare, the two friends hadn't spoken in months. Logan had called him to break the news, and that was the last time Declan had spoken to him. I knew Logan was trying to be a man about the whole thing, but after being rejected by his father, he hadn't needed a shitty friend on top of everything.

"You want to go with me?" I asked.

His head jerked up in surprise. Hell, I was even a little surprised. He just looked so sad, lying there, stewing in his own thoughts.

"To babysit? Me? I don't think so," he said coolly.

"What? Are you scared of a little girl, Declan?"

"F*ck no. I'm not...well, yeah...maybe a little."

I couldn't help it. I giggled, causing him to smirk. Goddamn, he was sexy. Still leaning back on his elbows, he was completely naked and not ashamed in the least. He wasn't hiding a square inch of himself.

"Come on, it will be good for you. Live a little," I taunted.

"Live a little? How the hell is chasing around a six-year-old going to help me live a little? Besides, I'm pretty proficient with living the shit out of my life, thank you very much."

Ah, yes, I forgot. Logan had told me many stories of the mighty Declan James living it up all over the world as a glorified party animal and certified womanizer. I was fairly certain he was convinced that this was what life was about, what living was about. It was probably why he had that ridiculous tattoo on his body. If the man could look past his own finger, he would find being the life of the party wasn't fulfilling any cosmic purpose.


"That's it. You're coming. No more arguing. Get up and get dressed. We are going."

He gave me a hard stare before dragging his long body off the bed in an exaggerated pained movement. I rolled my eyes in the process.

"All right, but I'm going to take a shower first. I'm using your shit, so don't laugh when I come out smelling like a chick."

I squelched a laugh as I watched his tanned backside make its way into the adjoined bathroom. He didn't bother closing the door. I heard the faucet turn, and a moment later, the shower came on. The sound of water spraying against his body came next, and I suddenly was very jealous of water. This was a complete change for the few weeks of what I liked to call the Declan Days.

After our first night together, when we'd fallen asleep in the hotel room and I'd awoken to find myself alone in that same room, he hadn't stayed over at my place, and I'd never asked if I could stay at his hotel. We would meet, hook up, maybe talk a bit, joke around, and leave. This was the way it had been for two weeks. It was exactly how I'd expected a relationship with Declan James to be. We didn't hold hands, do late-night phone calls, or sit around, wondering what the other was thinking or doing when we were apart. We would text our schedules and find times to meet. It wasn't like we didn't talk. We did. We just didn't linger for hours afterward. We both had lives and demanding jobs, and I had a family. We would make the most of our time and then part ways.

He'd never asked to shower here. He always left, saying he had somewhere to be or an early call on the set. But over the last few days, things had slowly started to change. We were spending more time together. He would stay longer, and we'd even spent time chatting on the phone. Something between us was changing, like some new level of comfort, and I was trying desperately not to analyze it too closely.

The shower shut off, and I watched from my spot on the bed as he stepped out of the shower. The water droplets slid down his naked skin, and I had the sudden urge to lick every single one of them off his rock-hard body. We'd just spent hours devouring each other, and I was already eager for his touch again. I'd never felt this kind of desperate, raw passion for a man before. Even when I had been with Daniel, a man I'd thought I was going to marry, I hadn't felt this never-ending, consuming need to touch him, inhale his scent, and feel him buried deep inside me.

Just then, Declan caught me looking at him, which caused a slow grin to spread across his face. "So, are you going to stare at me all day? Or are we going to go do some babysitting?"

So damn cocky.

I threw him an equally smug grin as I crawled out of bed, creating a bit of a show as I went. His attention went directly to me as I bent down to pick up clothing, making sure my ass was in full view.

Turning around, I gave him a wink. "Be ready in twenty, Hotshot."





~Declan~



We pulled up to Logan and Clare's nineteenth-century home situated in a quaint neighborhood. It was tucked away in a small suburban neighborhood outside of Richmond. The trees were as old as homes, and the entire neighborhood had that perfect-postcard look everyone wished for. Children were running up and down the streets, some were on bicycles and skates, while people jogged by and waved as we exited my rental car.

It was nauseating. I felt like I was in a late-night Nickelodeon rerun. I couldn't believe this was Logan's life now. The man who, a year ago, had done body shots off a bikini model and then proceeded to take not only her but also her two best friends back to our hotel for an entire evening of debauchery. He was my legacy. I'd taken a quiet, reformed rich boy and turned him into a lesser version of me.

Well, I had until he'd met his first wife. He'd tamed down for a while, and we had drifted apart. But when those divorce papers had gone through, who had been the first person he'd contacted? His old buddy, Declan. I'd reminded him of how good being single was, and I'd thought he was cured until several months ago when I walked into a bar and came face-to-face with a certain blonde. That certain blonde knew my buddy, Logan...because she was his girlfriend's best friend.

Girlfriend...and now wife...with a kid.

A kid that I am apparently babysitting.

Babysitting. Why the f*ck did I agree to this?

I walked behind Leah on the narrow walkway that led to the front door, noticing the way her ass seemed to be made for the jeans she was wearing. It was like she was poured into them. They molded to her curves perfectly. Her hips swayed as she walked, causing my dick to twitch. Her wheat-colored hair was loosely braided and draped elegantly to the side. It gave me visions of what it would be like to wrap that silky hair around my wrist and f*ck her from behind. Just thinking of it was getting me in trouble. Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the door opening and the child barreling toward us.

"Leah!"

"Hey, Short Stack!" Leah said to the little girl who was now wrapped in her arms. "Does Mommy know you're out here?"

"Um..." the girl responded.

"Come on, let's get you inside before we both get yelled at!" Leah said.

Leah shifted the child in her arms and hollered up at Clare that she had arrived as we all headed into the house. The girl was draped over Leah's shoulder, giving me a curious look as we walked passed family photos and portraits from Logan and Clare's wedding I never attended.

Worst friend ever.

We settled ourselves in the living room, and Leah set her precious cargo down.

The little girl immediately turned to me as I sat on the sofa with Leah. "My name is Maddie. Who are you?"

She smiled, and I couldn't help but return the gesture. She really was cute —for a kid. With strawberry-blonde curls and dark brown eyes, she was like a little angel, minus the talking.

"I'm Declan."

"Are you my auntie's boyfriend?"

Wow, this kid is abrupt. Are all kids like this?

"Uh...well..." I stammered.

"He's my friend, Maddie. Don't you have friends who are boys at preschool?"

Maddie thought about this momentarily. "Oh, yes! I have a friend named Tommy. He likes to make sandcastles with me, and he's fun to play with on the monkey bars!"

"Well, Declan is just like that!" Leah said, giving me a wry smile.

Mmhmm, I would do a round with Leah on the monkey bars any day.

"Oh! Okay! Hey, Declan, want to watch Dora with me?"

And just like that, we were buddies.

She took me over to the TV area where all the movies were stored, and we started to sort through them as she showed me her favorite ones. There was quite the collection. They also had a great selection of grown-up movies that I'd definitely have to check out later.

"Hey, Leah!" I heard someone shout from the top of the stairs. "Next time you see that good-for-nothing friend of my husband's, ask him if he suddenly forgot how to use a phone!"

I looked at Leah as she suddenly looked at me. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to contain the laughter threatening to spill out.

"Oh my God, she's going to be so embarrassed when she gets down here," she whispered.

I hadn't really thought about this aspect of the evening —the fact that I hadn't seen or spoken to my friend in months. He'd been diagnosed with cancer, gotten married, and become a stepfather, and I hadn't called to check-in. He was in a different world now, and I didn't know how to relate. The cancer thing...I was honestly just scared shitless. It had been a dick move, but I just hadn't known what to say. People my age didn't get cancer. That was something we had to worry about when we got older, right? Apparently not. It had been a reality check that I wasn't prepared for, so I'd bailed on him, and now, I had to find the words to say I was sorry. And I had to find them fast because he was coming downstairs.


"Did you hear what I said, Leah?" Clare asked, entering the room.

She didn't see me sitting there, but Logan did. He looked surprised and then a bit of humor peeked through, knowing his wife was digging herself a bigger hole.

"I'm seriously sick of people treating him like —oh shit!" she said, finally noticing my presence.

Logan snorted, and Leah doubled over, laughing, while Clare began to turn a deep shade of red.

"Mommy said a bad word!" Maddie scolded, causing Leah to laugh harder.

"Hey, man," Logan greeted me, "long time, no see."

I arose from the couch, and we did the guy version of a hug with a quick pat on the back before I stepped away quickly. I stood there nervously, unsure what to say to my sick friend. I could see the difference. The loss of hair was obvious, but he'd also dropped some weight, and he just looked tired. He was still Logan though, I realized, so I went with what I knew best.

"So, cancer, huh? That blows."

A huge grin spread across his face along with a bit of relief.

"You're just jealous that I'm still hotter than you," he taunted.

And we instantly fell back into a comfortable place. The water was under the bridge. Men didn't need long, drawn-out conversations for these types of things. A few inappropriate jokes with a good laugh, and we were solid again. Easy.

"Not according to People magazine. Top one hundred, baby," I countered.

Leah started making gagging noises in the background, and Clare immediately began laughing.

Logan grinned. "You've got your hands full with that one."

"So I've noticed."





After what seemed like hours of directions, instructions, and lessons, we were finally handed over the responsibility of watching the child for the evening. I found it hilarious that Leah was reminded half a dozen times to make sure Maddie brushed her teeth, ate dinner, and actually went to bed before midnight. Leah rolled her eyes and nodded, saying she'd done this gig a million times and would make sure Maddie was fed and watered.

As soon as they were out the door, Leah pulled Maddie up in her arms. "Thank goodness! I thought they'd never leave! Ready for some fun?"

Maddie nodded excitedly, and we started the evening with a game of hide-and-seek. It was Maddie's turn to be the counter, and Leah and I were in charge of hiding. Playing this game as an adult was much more difficult than as a child. We were too big to fit in any of the cool places, like the laundry basket or the cupboards.

As I listened to Maddie's voice downstairs, counting from one to sixty, I quickly moved through the house, looking for someplace to hide. Leah was nowhere to be seen, so she'd obviously found her sweet spot. Hearing Maddie hit fifty-five, I dove into the nearest closet and shut the door.

"Ouch!"

"Leah?"

"Who the hell else would it be, Hotshot?" she whispered in annoyance. "You're in my hiding place!"

"Well, I guess it's our place now, isn't it?" I grinned, and knowing she couldn't do anything to stop me due to the enclosed space, I slowly ran my hand under her top, savoring the feel of her bare skin against mine.

"What are you doing? Maddie is right outside that door!"

"Is she? I can't hear her," I whispered in her ear right before claiming her lips with my own.

She moaned as I plunged my tongue into her mouth, caressing every luscious inch. Sliding my hands in her jeans pockets, I pulled her hard against my body, and she gasped.

God, she's so f*cking sexy.

Her leg snaked around my hip, and she began rocking her p-ssy against my rock-hard erection. Just as my hand moved to the front of her jeans, fully intent on ripping them from her body and f*cking her senseless, we heard Maddie giggling down the hall.

"Where are you? I'm coming to find you!" She laughed.

Still breathless and wrapped around each other like our lives depended on it, we burst into laughter, giving away our spot immediately. We managed to make ourselves look presentable before Maddie opened the door and proclaimed herself the winner.

"I can't take you anywhere, Hotshot," Leah said, shaking her head.

I gave her a wink. "I kind of like babysitting."





Two hours, several pizzas, and a living room fort later, we had successfully put our young charge to sleep. Well, Leah had. My duties consisted mostly of standing around and supervising, considering I had no idea what went into the nightly rituals of a young girl. Hell, I didn't even know what a grown woman did before bed. Heather and I had never lived together, and I guessed I didn't care enough to pay attention when we had spent nights together.

I suddenly wondered what it would be like to watch Leah get ready for bed. She would probably be in that robe I'd seen her wear that first night when I came back to Richmond, and she'd stand in front of the mirror as she tenderly brushed her golden locks. I'd come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, watching her sigh in pleasure from my touch.

"Hey, you still here?" Leah asked, taking me out of my weird fantasy.

I was brought back into the present where we were settling onto the couch at Clare and Logan's. Leah had just pulled out a movie and was about to hit Play.

"Yep, I'm all here." I flashed my award-winning smile, hoping my little checkout from reality would go unnoticed.

Where the hell did that come from? Maybe I was letting this friends-with-benefits thing go a little too far. I enjoyed spending time with Leah, and I actually considered her a friend now. The image I'd just had though went way beyond the level of friendship, and that was not okay. I needed to take it back a level —no more adventures like tonight. Things like this created feelings, and neither of us could risk that. Nope, back to just good clean sex. I was great at that. In fact, I excelled at it. It was everything else in a relationship that I sucked at.

We decided to watch a movie, The Princess Bride. Leah had chosen it when she found out I'd never seen it.

"How could you never have seen this movie, Declan? You're a self-declared movie expert! It's like the greatest movie ever created!" she had declared.

"The greatest? Really? What makes it so great?"

"It has everything —love, humor, mystery, honor, deceit, and a hot guy in a mask! What is there not to love?"

"All right, all right, put your damn movie on, woman!"

She'd laughed and we'd settled in to watch our movie. When the young kid from The Wonder Years appeared, I got really confused.

"Wait, is this a kid movie? Is there sex in this?"

She hit me on the arm and shushed me before telling me I was ruining it. I chuckled and found myself pulling her closer to me. We were lying together on the couch, watching the weirdest movie I'd ever seen. But she was right. It was good...in a strange eighties type of way.

When it finished, she looked up at me and asked, "So, what did you think, Hotshot?"

"Not half bad. I love watching older films even if they are from the eighties and include Rodents of Unusual Size, and terrible accents. Older movies are so different from the films we create today."

"How so?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"Well, the filming alone is different. So many movies are filmed by digital cameras nowadays. It creates a different look on the screen. The picture is clearer...more vivid, but I think you lose that original quality that only film could produce. It's like every time we take a leap forward, we always lose something from the past in the process."

"You know, I've never heard you talk about acting the way you talk about creating a film. Why do you do it? Act, I mean," she asked.


I puffed out a breath of air and fiddled with a strand of her hair. "I hate acting. I honestly do. If I could act and not have all the bullshit that went along with it, I might be able to enjoy it. But you can't have one without the other in Hollywood, and I'm just not built that way. When I started getting noticed, I thought it was nice. Women paid more attention to me, and I got into bars without any problem, but then the cameras would show up every time I tried to exit a club or restaurant. Out here, away from it all, I can almost start to feel normal again. But in L.A., the paparazzi are relentless. Some people are able to handle the constant attention, but I'm not one of them. I can't live my life in a f*cking fishbowl."

"So, what's your escape plan?"

"This movie. They agreed to let me executive produce it if I would also star in it. I figured if I could get my name in as a producer, it would help build my credibility, and eventually, someone might sign me in some role that doesn't require being in front of the camera."

"Well, I hope it works out for you, Hotshot. Everyone deserves happiness, especially if that means doing the one thing you were put on this earth to do."

I smiled, silently thanking her, before saying, "And what about you? What were you put on this earth to do?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still figuring that out."