Someone I Used to Know

chapter Nine

Adley


And the hits just kept on coming. I’d made a fool out of myself twice in front of Declan. As if he already didn’t have enough ammunition to torture me, I had gone and served up even more embarrassment on a silver platter.

Gaping, empty black spots blotted out random memories of the night, but I hadn’t yet ascertained whether the development was a good or bad thing. On one hand, it could have been completely innocent. Maybe I’d dozed off harmlessly. But honestly, considering one of the things I wished I could have forgotten was formulating a plan to molest him in the car, I had little to no faith that one of those missing holes didn’t hide something that would leave me chagrined. Even without knowing the whole story, the offensive aftertaste of shame hadn’t left me since I woke up Friday, wearing only Declan’s shirt and minus one very expensive, borrowed dress.

As a result of my indiscretion, I’d resorted back to an age-old solution I liked to call ‘rich people coping.’ Not that my family had been considered in any way ‘rich’ by Los Angeles standards. We were comfortable. But ‘comfortable people coping’ just didn’t have the same ring to it.

There are things about having money that they don’t tell you. Like how it might be nice to be able to throw money at a problem, but once it becomes the go-to solution, it can really come back to bite you in the ass. Eventually you are going to come across a problem that money can’t fix, and when that happens, rich people do what they do best; they ignore it. They pretend it doesn’t exist.

Thankfully, I’d had a whole weekend to perfect my ignorant act. Unfortunately, as soon as the limo’s midnight exterior slipped through the tree line Monday morning, and my heart galloped like a cowardly horse spooked by a snake, I realized that there wasn’t enough time in the world to prepare me for Declan Davies.

“We’ve got to quit meeting like this.” Right off the bat, Declan deviated from our regularly scheduled program, cracking his window enough to peek at me.

“What?” my reply was deadpanned, inflectionless. It was a good start, but I had no illusions that Declan would simply roll over and accept my cool attitude towards him.

“You, hung over, shamed, and wearing sunglasses that are too big for your face.” A shimmer of a grin passed like a breeze. “You look like an insect.”

I had no answer for that, so I resumed our routine, whether he was a willing a participant or not, walking to my side of the car. I’d long ago shrugged off any door opening privileges from the driver. I was a twenty-first century woman!

“What? No muffin this morning?” His forced nonchalance didn’t even put a dent in the tension simmering between us.

I shrugged.

I shrugged a lot during the following days. It became my go-to response to his continued attempts to weasel past my indifferent exterior. On the inside, though, I was stewing. No one had ever gotten under my skin like he did over that next week.

At first, I almost believed he was going to accept it. My muteness stretched out over days unnoted, although his lack of interest could have had something to do with the bully impersonating our previously sweet and laidback southern director.

Georgia had been transformed. It was clear she was on a mission to get the performances of a lifetime from Madeline and Declan, and she wasn’t accepting anything less, even if she had to forcefully drag it from the depths of their souls.

The lead actors’ distraction allowed me to really study the filmmaking process for the first time since I’d arrived. It was much more intricate than I’d ever given them credit for. A huge amount of thought, money, effort, and time went into even the smallest of details. I once witnessed two crew members almost come to blows over how the books should be arranged on Cam’s bookshelf in the loft set.

It still hadn’t gotten any less strange watching The Girl in the Yellow Dress’s twisted, sometimes backwards, reenactment of the things I’d sworn to never think of again. Seeing the actors that were chosen to play an off-brand version of my parents was weird, but nothing surpassed watching Madeline and Declan pretend to be Cam and I in the surreal department.

I often found myself mesmerized by their scenes together. They had a sizzling chemistry that was impossible to describe when you’d seen them interact off camera. I couldn’t understand how a nearly sibling-like bond transformed into something so raw and honest that it was impossible to turn away from with a snap of the clapper and a shout of “Action!”

***

“Just think, in a few hours you won’t be a virgin anymore.”

Fran and I were camped out in the wardrobe department, waiting for Madeline to finish. The stylists had managed to wrangle her behind a privacy screen for once, an impressive feat.

I cleared my throat, embarrassed, and felt the prickle of blood gathering at the surface of my cheeks.

“You’re a couple of years and one childbirth too late.”

Fran laughed at the rare joke. I knew better than to be offended by the two cellphones that never left the personal assistance’s eye sight. From our mutual time spent trailing after America’s favorite starlet, I’d learned that losing focus, even to blink, could cost you millions of dollars in their business.

“I’m talking about you witnessing your very first live sex scene today.”

“But isn’t it supposed to be a closed set?” I looked to the far end of the room, where I could make out Madeline’s slender shadow behind the partition. They were doing a lot of work just to have her get naked, if you asked me.

“Only because the tabloids would call her a hussy if she didn’t have it written into all her contracts…Honestly, it was easier to keep my daughter Maria dressed when she was a toddler than it is Madeline in present day,” she scoffed, shaking her head in bewilderment. “And you should know by now that as long as you’re around, she’s going to take full advantage. But look on the bright side. She’s granting you access beyond the velvet rope with a front row seat to see all our resident Aussie national treasure has to offer.”

I choked on air, and there was no doubt my face was scarlet. “It’s just acting though, right? People don’t actually have to have sex to make it look realistic.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said knowingly. “Another assistant on our last project told me her boss went all in for the indie film they’d just wrapped, if you know what I mean. Thankfully Madeline’s never gone to that level of extreme…though sometimes I wouldn’t put it past her.”

I wouldn’t have either.

Fran smirked at my obvious disgust, but let the subject die at that.

By the time we arrived at the closed set, I was a nervous wreck. It didn’t help that Soundstage Three was always kept at the average winter temperature of freaking Minnesota! I was a shivering, jittery mess.

Madeline strolled confidentially in ahead of me. Dressed in nothing but a floral sundress that would soon be on the floor, and flesh colored underwear that I’d caught a glimpse of earlier, she could have been headed to a local coffee shop with as much anxiety as she showed.

A closed set was even more intimate than I’d expected. Declan was already there, talking with Georgia, and I was relieved to see that he, at least, had the good sense to be a little nervous. He kept shifting his weight back and forth.

Other than the director and male lead, only the cinematographer and boom operator were present. Fran and Alfred had been stopped outside with a collected group of hair, make-up, wardrobe, and lighting people, where they were waiting to be called inside when their services were required.

At that moment, I was more than happy to let Madeline be Adley Adair. Declan was an ass, but he was still one of the most intimidatingly attractive people I’d ever seen. Maybe if I looked like Madeline I wouldn’t be worried about it either, though I doubted it. The slim girl was sticking close to my side.

Georgia called her over for a quick, private powwow between just the three of them to go over some blocking notes before they got started, and Madeline made sure I understood her very pointed stare in my direction as she walked away. It was a look that visibly stated, ‘don’t even think about it.’

The time we’d spent together definitely hadn’t been in vain. It was clear she had a pretty solid grasp on what was going through my head at that moment. All I wanted to do was bolt.

Heeding her warning, I tore my wistful gaze from the exit and turned to the set. I’d already seen several sequences shot in the backdrop of Cam’s apartment. It was far from accurate, but the art director had done a really nice job of capturing an urban vibe that implied struggle while remaining stylish.

With the lack of cast and crew milling about, I had my pick of chairs, and I took the opportunity to be strategic about the spot I would potentially be spending the next six hours in.

“Quiet on set!” Georgia announced, but I assumed it was purely out of habit, since the three of us hadn’t uttered a word since arriving. “Everyone to your marks.”

Having been dragged line-by-line through the script, I knew the scene well. It was supposed to be the day I’d shown up on Cam’s doorstep in North Carolina after leaving home with no explanation.

Madeline looked appropriately troubled as a surprised Declan urged her inside the three dimensional set.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, in character. “You’re supposed to be at school…Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s in bad taste to start skipping class before the syllabus has even been handed out?”

She returned a watery smile that I objected to. Sure, I’d been in a bad place in my life. I’d just flown across the country, knowing I’d probably never see my family again, and I was five months pregnant with a child I’d been in denial of for the better part of a month. But that didn’t mean I had cried about it! I wasn’t some weak heroine who broke down the second I had a shoulder to cry on.

“I just…” she struggled for words as the screenplay instructed. “I don’t…I just needed to see you.”

Declan pulled her into him, not pushing her for the explanation she fought to put into words. She buried her head into his chest, and for a moment, it seemed like she really might just dissolve into a mess of tears and snot.

I really would have had to object on that character choice, probably loudly and without care of the rolling camera I was interrupting. My name had been tarnished enough without these girly dramatics. But at the last minute, she tilted her head up and captured his lips in a pleading kiss.

Earlier when we’d discussed it, she’d asked, “Why did you kiss him?”

I’d paused, not because I hadn’t known the answer, but because I hadn’t wanted to say it. “To distract him.”

Just as they had in reality four years ago, things spiraled from there, as Madeline and Declan acted out the carnal pleasure Cam and I had written with our own bodies.

I knew that the reality of a sex scene wasn’t supposed to be sexy, and for the most part, it wasn’t. There was something clinical, uninspired, knowing every action the actors took in front of the camera came from the direction of the fifty year old woman standing just a few feet away. Georgia jumped in often, instructing them between takes to, “Keep doing that,” or “Tilt your head just a little more to the right.” My personal favorite was when she told Madeline to do something with her legs because it, “looked like Declan was trying to seduce a starfish.”

I was just starting to relax about the whole thing when clothes started flying. Say what you will about the mechanics of the act, but there was something undeniably erotic about flesh on flesh, no matter how it came to occur.

And Declan had some of the finest skin I’d ever seen. The slow loss of clothes ended with his pants, and my yammering heart almost wept with disappointment when his boxers stayed in place. They were hoping for a PG13 rating, after all. Thankfully though, Georgia was known for exhausting as many takes as possible before moving on, which meant I was treated to the show again and again.

I finally understood the appeal of strippers.

“Okay, let’s take five and refresh!” Georgia clapped her hands, startling me from my enraptured state with a squeak.

Snapped back into reality, you could have roasted marshmallows off the heat my face was producing.

Declan stood up, waiting for Fran to bring him and Madeline their robes, and like drizzling honey, my eyes sank down his tanned, defined abdomen. Jesus Christ, how did you even go about getting a body like that?

My mouth was dry, hands clammy, and I had no doubt, if he tried to talk to me while I was in that state, I’d end up acting like a teeny-bopper at a Justin Bieber concert. I may have been acting with all the decorum of a fifth grader with a crush, but my dignity wasn’t going to just let me sit there and face certain mortification.

I jumped to my feet with every intention of going to hide in the bathroom until I was sure the brief intermission was over.

Unfortunately, my haste landed me face planted into the chest I’d just been admiring from afar. Declan stiffened, taking the brunt of my assault before I could halt the forward progress of my body. Oh God, no. I prayed I hadn’t been drooling, because with my mouth landed about an inch from his nipple, he definitely would have felt it.

“Bathroom,” I choked out, peeling my body off his.

“Must be something in the water,” he joked with a nervous chortle, and I thought it might have been the most un-suave I’d ever seen him. Not that I was in a position to appreciate his rare, abashed moment. “I was headed that way myself.”

Neither of us moved, and awkwardness soaked through our silence.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear away images of the Greek God that was clouding my judgment, and turn him back into the contemptuous movie star I was familiar with. I knew how to deal with Declan. I just didn’t know how to deal with my attraction for him.

“Alright then,” he said finally, before heading to the bathroom.

I was about to let out a relieved sigh when he stopped a few feet away and turned back to me. “Didn’t you say you had to go too?”

“Changed my mind.”

He left me with one last odd look.

“What’s going on with you two?” Madeline asked, stealing my relief.

“You’re his friend. You would know better than me,” I countered, needing desperately to push the attention elsewhere.

“Friend?” she rolled the word off her tongue like it was as foreign as the concept itself was to her.

I seethed. Declan really cared about her in his own, twisted way. He’d sure shamed me like I’d offered a sixth grader a cigarette when he’d thought she’d gotten drunk with me.

I’d never disliked her as much as I did in that moment. She was just standing there in her stupid little silk robe completely oblivious to anything and everyone that didn’t forward her goals. Declan deserved better than that…at least from her he did.

“Yes, Madeline, as crazy as it seems that someone could actually care about something other than themselves, Declan considers you his friend.”

She frowned at my outburst, like I’d disappointed her in some way, and I got the distinct feeling it wasn’t because I’d basically called her selfish.

***

The next week, things took a turn for worst. Declan resorted to a new tactic to break my stony resolve. Having gotten bored of waiting for my attitude to wane naturally, he decided that if I was going to ignore him anyways, he was going to do his damnedest to really piss me off…and, apparently, soothe his own curiosity in the process.

“Do you ever think about her?” His body was turned to greet me fully as I climbed into the car. It was like he was an eager dog waiting for my attention. All he was missing was a tail wagging against the leather upholstery under our rears.

I shrugged. It didn’t matter who he was talking about. My answer would have been a shrug even if he’d asked me if I worshipped the devil or was a transvestite. I didn’t look at him. I hadn’t been able to since the sex scene.

“Your daughter. Do you ever think about her?” There wasn’t even the slightest bit of confrontation in his words, and that almost made me angrier.

My hand flew to the door handle, but it was locked and the car had already picked up a good bit of speed. I swear anything slower than fifteen miles per hour, and I would have risked the jump.

I could feel his gaze calling me to look at him, but I stayed strong in my resolve and my eyes stayed where they were, glued to my interlocking hands in my lap.

He didn’t say another word. He didn’t do anything but stare at me while I summoned up every bit of strength I possessed, to suppress the trembling that begged to take hold of me. He wasn’t playing fair.

The next day, he came back swinging.

“Did you name her?”

I’d pinched my leg so hard it left a bruise for a week.

The fact that I had never once answered one of his questions didn’t seem to discourage him, and the following day, he threw two at my silence. I blocked him out, counting in my head.

On the third day, he didn’t say anything, oddly distracted, and I thought that maybe he was giving up. On the ride home he proved to me I couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, the brief reprieve had been an attempt to lure me into a false sense of security. I was ashamed at how well it worked and how ruffled I was when the purposeful steel of his irises drilled into me.

“Why didn’t you want to see her?”

The coppery aftertaste of blood filled my mouth as I bit the inside of my cheek.

“What could it have hurt to see her just once?” He’d grown used to my shrugs and silence, not even anticipating a reply anymore. He didn’t even wait for me.

Raindrops raced one another down the panes of tinted glass as the car endured the steady stop-and-go flow of traffic that clogged our route home.

“You don’t even know what color hair she has. What if you were standing right beside her at the grocery store or the zoo and you never even knew it.” His voice was building in wonder, like his mind cluttered with possibilities and his intention had nothing to do with me anymore, but instead all the curious wonderments our predicament presented.

My blood pumped thick and hot through my veins as my vision sharpened, only blurring at the edges with the red hue of rage.

“She, literally, is half of you – DNA-wise. She was inside of you and –.”

“Stop!” My screech wasn’t for Declan. The command was for our driver who was quick to swerve to the curb still two or three blocks from Cam’s house.

I was out the door in an instant, making no effort to cover myself from the cool, pelting rain. We had already passed the gated walls of the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t have mattered to me if we were in the worst neighborhood in South Central. I just wanted away from stupid Declan Davies, and all his ridiculously nosy questions. It was none of his damn business, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to sit in his car a second longer while he pretended it was.

“It’s no wonder you’re always running away when you’re so damn good at it.” There was bite in his words as he chased me across a supremely kept lawn. I’d seen that guy from those famous spy movies tossing a football around with his kids out here a few times.

We might have changed venues, but my performance was sticking to the script. I ignored him, and carried on in the most direct route to Cam’s front door.

I was making good time, and more than a little impressed with my power walking skills.

My foot hit the obscenely green grass of Cam’s yard, and the slick coating of water between my flip flop and foot got the best of me as the world suddenly shifted off kilter. I sprawled on the ground in a puddle of shredded grass and mud. The water soaked through my thin shirt almost instantly, as I struggled to recapture the breath that had just been knocked out of me.

Declan stood over me chuckling, and the embarrassment of the moment was too much. The edge of the cliff he’d been pushing me towards for weeks finally collapsed in a roaring avalanche, and I spiraled into the abyss, lost to my anger.

“I hate you!” The gusto of the declaration even took me by surprise, but I held onto the rage as I wrenched to my feet, pulling clumps of grass out of my hair with forceful movements. I was thankful I hadn’t worn mascara; otherwise I would have been sporting some serious war paint.

The white cotton of his shirt stretched translucently across the broad expanse of his chest. Damn him. His perfect physique pitched my anger into another stratosphere. I was too angry to even look at him a second longer, and I turned my mud stained back on him, and walked away in the same direction I’d been headed before the humiliating interruption.

“At least I can say I know what your family felt like now, watching you walk away.”

I was on him before he could even blink, shoving him as hard as I could. Declan stared down at his chest with shock where my hands had just made handprints with their violence. I couldn’t say I blamed him, though my surprise didn’t come from the fact that he’d finally driven me to assault. He deserved that. My astonishment lay elsewhere.

I was good at walking away. I’d perfected it. I never ever looked back…But somehow Declan had made me come back. No one else had ever had that power over me. For whatever, other horrible emotions he’d inflicted on me, I’d cared enough to come back…And that was a first.

My eyes tried to stab him with the sharp point of a glare.

“I hate you so much.”

“Why? Because I don’t accept your bullshit, copout excuses?” He didn’t back down. I didn’t know why I had expected him to.

“Yeah, well my bullshit, copout excuses are none of your business!”

Even if someone were staring out their window, they wouldn’t have been able to see us. I could barely see Declan through the punishing onslaught of the storm, and he was standing barely three feet away.

“You invite all this attention into your life and then decide it’s too much for you? Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. Newsflash – you kind of made it everyone’s business when you agreed to let your name be printed in that book.”

“You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

A cruel sneer twisted his pretty mouth as he drew closer to me, daring me to retreat.

“Baby, you’re not nearly as complicated as you like to think you are.”

“You don’t know anything.” Each word was filled with quietness that showed every speck of the deadly calm beneath them. The screaming rain continued to rage, but I didn’t care if he’d heard me or not.

He was standing so close we were almost touching, and I could have read his lips, if only I’d given him the chance to speak.

My volume tripled. “I didn’t agree to let Cam use my real name in the book…I made him do it! I told him from the beginning, if he was going to write the story, then it was going to have my name on it. He didn’t even want to. I made him.”

Our equally heavy breaths intermingled in the small space that still separated us. An errant raindrop traced down his face, from the corner of his eye to rest above his upper lip, so much like a tear, yet different. There was so much satisfaction in wiping that arrogant look off his face, but I knew any victory was going to be short lived. It would only take a second for him to regroup, and I couldn’t let that happen. I’d already said too much.

So I kissed him, slamming my body into his, so hard he lost his footing and we hit the soggy ground with a thud. His lips worked hungrily against mine like he was starving just for me, and I took full pleasure in their devious intentions.

I kissed him because if I hadn’t, more questions would have soon followed. I pressed myself against his hard body, because I couldn’t not for a single second longer. A girl only had so much willpower, and there were only so many opportunities to fully experience a body like his. And oh, what a body it was. Once I was done denying myself, my hands grasped for every part of him I could touch, tracing each inch of smooth skin that had teased me.

He rolled us over aggressively and his need burned into me, setting me on fire where my skin prickled with contradicting Goosebumps.

“You’re so f*cking sexy.” He took the words right out of my mouth, lingering above me and temporarily guarding me from the rain. My panties might have disintegrated right then and there, lulled by his husky accent.

I tried to use the heels of my feet that were buried in his backside to bring his body back to mine, but he resisted, staring at me a moment longer before wrenching himself off the ground. My libido was like a roaring lion that had finally escaped her cage, eviscerating my pride as I considered wrapping myself around him like a monkey to keep him from leaving me in this torturous state of unfulfilled desire. He dragged me right along behind him though, saving me from any rash actions that would surely haunt me later.

“Cam’s is right there,” I told him quickly, catching onto his plan to get us out of the storm.

He didn’t say anything (not that I could hear at least). I dragged my feet, losing both flip flops, but I counted it as a victory when it got him to falter at least momentarily.

His eyes were so dark they were nearly black with want, but they still managed to convey an ounce of skepticism. “You really want to do this in your ex-boyfriend’s house?”

“Good point.” I had no more complaints as we made haste towards Declan’s house down the street.

His keys clanked loudly to the floor just inside the door, but we were too busy with each other to put them in their proper place (wherever that might have been). We were lucky the door was a hard surface that Declan could push me against, or else it probably wouldn’t have gotten closed.

Lips seared down my throat, but the cold air battled for dominance and my teeth chattered.

“Clothes off,” I managed to get out.

His attention left my skin, pulling back slightly as he stared at me with awe.

“You’re bloody fantastic.”

“I’m freezing,” I corrected, pushing him away so I could begin peeling away the soaked clothes plastered to my body.

Down to my underwear, I didn’t get a chance to get a good look at his exposed state before he was on me again. Lust brought us together, but an unforeseeable magnetism held me there. He was warm where I was cold, and hard where I was soft. The contrasting sensations pooled in the pit of my stomach, and I was helpless to my body writhing against him.

Without the conscious decision to do so, my legs raised easily to encase his hips, and I whimpered at the intimate friction of only being separated by a few, measly pieces of fabric. All it would take was few tugs of the useless clothes and he would be inside of me.

“Oh, God,” I moaned as my body bucked between him and the hard wood door behind me.

His tongue should be illegal. It was far more dangerous than any drug that had ever tempted me.

“Hold on,” his lips murmured, never surrendering their devouring pace against mine.

I didn’t know or care what he meant until his arms ensnared me, lifting me easily away from the door. With his attention on carrying me, I spread kisses along his jaw, going back twice to find the small birthmark decorating the skin just to the right of his chin. I flicked my tongue against it.

He shuddered, and three steps up were as far as we got. The stairway would have to do for the moment.

“That’s cheating,” he told me in a raspy voice, but I wasn’t about to start paying attention to him at that point in the game. He was just rough enough, settling our bodies across the carpeted stairs. I reached out for him, desperate to have him against me, but he resisted with a devious, little smirk that made me want to slap him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Tisk, tisk,” he murmured, dodging me needy hands again.

A small cry of frustration escaped me, but he ignored it, perfectly content to let his lustful eyes feast on every inch of my body beneath him. It was like he was about to enjoy a beautiful meal and he wanted to take every second to savor it, even down to the presentation.

“I didn’t think anything could possibly be sexier than those ridiculous duck shorts, but you nearly naked, writhing with desire is…” His eyes rolled back like he’d just taken the most delicious sip of wine, “bloody unbelievable.”

I almost growled as I grabbed for him again, but this time, instead of deflecting my attempt, he captured them. My hands felt small, dainty almost, cocooned in his larger grasp. He raised our interlocking fingers above my head, restraining them there. I was helpless, exposed to him.

Sex had never been like that for me before with Cam. I was always the one that was in control. The power was mine, and I liked it that way. The thought of handing over the reins to my partner was revolting and almost scary to me…But as my body tingled from head to toe, driven nearly to the edge by just the thought of the Adonis torturing me, I realized I would have let Declan Davies do whatever he wanted to me…and more.

When his fingertip finally made contact with my inner thigh, my breath hitched, nearly choking me. Up and down he teased me, stopping each time at the edge of my panties until I was panting his name, my head thrown back against the step above me. And just when I was sure I could go no higher, he slipped a single digit inside fabric. I almost came unglued.

“If you don’t f*ck me right now, I swear to God I really will hate you.” The words that I wanted to come out as serious and demanding, leaving him with no choice but to fulfill my wishes, betrayed me with their husky overtone, a clear indication as to just how much control he had over me at the moment.

I didn’t see control when our eyes locked, though. He was just as close to coming undone as I was, and I planned to take full advantage of it. I sought the substantial length I’d felt pressed into me earlier, and as I found my prize underneath his soft boxers, he hissed like I’d burned him. A wild thrust into my massaging hand told me that pain was the last thing I was inflicting on him.

“Don’t stop,” he croaked as I swirled my tongue around his pale nipple, letting my hand return the favor of the irrational fervor he’d granted me. Whether he was talking about my mouth or what I was doing with my hand was irrelevant, because I had no intention of discontinuing either.

From our position, his hands sought what skin he could reach, and I nicked his collarbone with my teeth as a rough thumb dragged across my nipple underneath the lace of my bra. He yanked me back, and for a second I thought I’d accidentally hurt him, but the look in his eyes was glazed with lust not anger.

“I thought you didn’t want me stop?” I asked innocently, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“If you don’t stop then I’m not going to be able to, and I think we’re both looking for a different ending.” I followed his pointed look down to the bulging erection between us. I was almost mesmerized by the sizable member for a moment. It looked painful. I made a move to get a closer look when strong arms stopped me.

“Holy Dooley, are you trying to kill me, sheila?” He moaned, looking like it pained him to redirect me onto my back and away from the part of him most craving my attention. “What have you done to me? Just the sight of that naughty little mouth of yours anywhere near my doodle nearly made me explode.”

Distracted by his newly convenient position situated between my legs, I tried to draw him closer to me but he didn’t give in to my desperate demands.

“What’s your problem?” I pleaded, and to my horror I was nearing the point of tears. I needed him inside of me at that moment more than I had needed anything in a very long time. He created this monster, now he had to satisfy her.

He pursed his lips at my outburst, but I swear that evil mouth of his was just on the verge of smirk.

“It might help to take these off first,” he belittled me, but I didn’t give two shits, because at that moment he set out in slowly trailing my forgotten purple underwear down my legs, until they were free to wrap around him.

He paused, the tip of his ‘doodle’, as he’d called it, just outside of my weeping entrance. Was he trying to kill me? I didn’t know how much more teasing I could take. I might have to kill him when it was all over with. I certainly couldn’t exact my revenge until he made me scream out in the ecstasy of release.

“Are you on the pill?” His voice waivered as my hands tried to coerce his hips to push into me, kneading and caressing his firm backside.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to come out without sounding possessed or threatening. Eventually I was sure I’d be glad one of us was thinking clearly, but at that moment, I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t have lied just to achieve my single-minded goal. God, that was f*cked up.

“Declan,” it was a plea. His whole body shuddered at the sound, but he only entered me with the tip before gaining control of himself. I wiggled recklessly against the carpet trying to find relief from the small bit he offered me.

Gray eyes prodded into mine as if he was searching for something (obviously not permission. I’d given that in tenfold). It wasn’t like he was looking for an answer he thought I could provide though. Instead his steady gaze pursued me like you’d stare at your own reflection in a mirror to know something about yourself.

His lips parted just slightly, and I could tell he wanted to say something. It might have been something sweet, or something self-reflective, or maybe even something enlightening. Hell, it might have been the secret to life, but somehow, instinctively, I knew I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t care about anything but the feel of his hardness within me. I thrust my hips upwards, ensnaring his length completely. A deep guttural moan ripped free from his chest, and fireworks bombarded every inch of my body.

“F*ck,” he groaned, “you’re so tight.”

That was the last thing I heard as I was struck deaf by my own rising pleasure rushing through my ears. We were consumed by it. I didn’t care about the unforgiving angles of the stairs, digging into my back with each powerful thrust. I didn’t care about the nonsensical babble spilling from our lips. I didn’t care that we were going at it like rabbits, where any nosey neighbor peeking through a window could see.

All I cared about was each roll of my hips that brought me closer to an edge I couldn’t see. We were a roller coaster making the delicious journey to the peak, desperate for the freefalling relief on the other side.

I was the first to plummet. My body tightened, frozen by the bliss that crashed over me with the power of a tidal wave. Declan plowed on, his face twisting with an emotion so lustful it bordered on pain.

I watched him, my body limp with satiation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty. Men had no right to encroach across the lines of sex to steal the one thing that had always belonged to women. It wasn’t fair. Yet, I couldn’t fault him for it, nor could I wish it away.

He came with a random burst of Australian slang that I could barely hear through the happy hum in my ears. A lazy half-smile blossomed at the thought: I made him come so hard he went all Australian on me.

Our heavy breaths echoed through the foyer around us, bouncing off our marble encasing. I didn’t know about him, but it was the only sound I could make. The rest of the house was quiet. I dredged up enough energy to turn my head where he sprawled across the stairs beside me. A few of our limbs overlapped, but for the most part we’d resumed our separation.

“That was…” he began.

“Uh huh.” I was still as breathless as he was, and in total agreement with his awed assessment.

“I wasn’t expecting…”he tried again with a lazy drawl.

“Uh huh.”

“We should probably move.”

“Uh huh.”

But it was a long time before either one of us even attempted to stand.