Page 21

Chapter 21

Declan

Something softens in Hannah’s expression as she nods, her fingers brushing back and forth across my knuckles in a way that seems almost subconscious. The thread of tension that’s been dangling between us since we sat down feels like it instantly goes taut. It’s hard to describe, but I feel something shift between us, something dancing back and forth on that thread like a tightrope walker that could fall over at any second.

“You’re an amazing person,” she says quietly, looking right into my eyes, and the thread gets even tighter, tugging at my heart.

I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I have my good and bad days, just like everyone else. But I try to appreciate life as it comes and cherish the good moments.”

Silence falls between us, and as our gazes hold, I feel Hannah’s pulse pounding in the veins of her wrist. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to bring her wrist to my lips. The need to taste her skin there, to feel her pulse against my mouth, is almost overwhelming.

As if realizing how long we’ve been staring at each other across the table, she gently pulls her hands out of my grip and adjusts in her seat. “Sorry, I got us way off track, didn’t I? This was supposed to be a fun game.”

“I’m not complaining,” I tell her with a smile. “I like the detours our conversations take.”

Although she flashes a smile back, it doesn’t stay on her face for very long. But even as I can sense her retreating a little, the thread between us is still there, still pulling at my heart. Maybe things got a little too intense too fast for her, but I wasn’t lying when I told her I wasn’t bothered. Or when I told her that there wasn’t much I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with her. There’s something about this woman that makes me want to lay myself bare, to offer up parts of myself I usually keep hidden.

“If I remember correctly, I think it’s your turn,” she says.

“Alright, then. Truth or dare?” My voice drops lower, and I arch a brow at her.

Hannah hesitates, biting her lip again in that way she has that drives me crazy. I can’t help but see her beneath me in bed, her plump lip locked between her teeth as I slid into her. The memory is visceral enough to make my muscles tighten with want.

“Truth,” she finally says, pulling me out of the vivid memory. “But maybe keep it simple this time?”

“Hm, okay. What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. Yeah, very unique, I know,” she says with a self-deprecating look, and I laugh with her.

We take several more turns, both of us opting for truth every time, but that’s probably for the best. The only thing I can think of to dare her to do is to kiss me—or more—but we’re not really in the best environment for that, although part of me doesn’t give a damn about our surroundings. Maybe she doesn’t trust herself with a dare, either.

When it’s my turn to ask another question, I tilt my head, thinking about it. Hannah smirks and laughs. Her cheeks are slightly rosy, but I can’t tell how much of that is from the whiskey, the conversation, or some combination of both. Either way, it looks beautiful on her. That natural flush brings out the blue and green in her eyes, making them sparkle in the dim light.

“What is it?” she says curiously, still grinning. “Just ask.”

“Well, I just keep thinking about how you and I met,” I say then lean forward with deliberate slowness, keeping my voice down. She licks her lips and leans closer to meet me, bringing her face near enough that I can catalogue every little detail of her features. “You know, at a kink club. Is that something you’re into or that you want to explore more?”

The blush on her face turns bright red and she falls back against the back of the booth. Her tongue darts out to wet her lip, but she doesn’t answer the question, so I decide to switch it up.

“Okay. Why don’t you tell me one of your dirtiest fantasies instead?” I hold her gaze steadily, noticing the way her pupils dilate a bit in response to my words.

Somehow, her cheeks have turned even redder. Judging from the way she squirms in her seat, I can tell these questions are doing something to her—and knowing the effect I’m having on her makes heat flood my veins.

I rest my elbows on the table and lean forward. “Come on, hummingbird. You can tell me.”

My voice is gentle, but I can’t hide the rasp in it.

Hannah casts a nervous glance around the bar, but there’s no one in the room at the moment, not even the bartender. Still, she pushes up out of the booth slightly to check, and when she’s sure no one’s around, she lowers back down into her seat and gives me a look that’s somewhere between embarrassed and turned on.

“I have this thing about wanting to—never mind.”

She cuts herself off with a sigh and looks away from me, clearly feeling a bit awkward. I reach out and drag the tip of my finger across the back of her hand.

“Keep going. Please. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” I trace a slow, deliberate pattern across her skin, both a reassurance and a promise.

Hannah visibly shivers, goosebumps scattering across her skin. Then she swallows and looks up to meet my gaze.

“I have this fantasy about being fucked roughly,” she whispers, and my cock instantly stirs to life in my pants. She looks like she has more she wants to say, but she bites her lip again like she’s unsure if she should, so I keep stroking her hand with my finger to encourage her.

“What would that look like?” I ask. My voice is like gravel by now, my throat tight with desire.

“I want a guy to pull my hair, to grip my throat, to spank me. To just totally own my body.”

Fuck, this woman drives me insane without even trying.

My cock is so hard now that it almost hurts, and my mind is full of flashing images of me doing just that. Pulling her hair while I pound her from behind, putting her over my knee to spank her perfect, toned ass until it’s red and marked by my handprint. Or gripping her by the throat while she’s splayed out beneath me, her legs wrapped around my waist. I can almost feel her pulse hammering against my palm, see her eyes dilate with that perfect mixture of adrenaline and arousal.

“It’s not just about the physical sensations,” she continues, gaining courage from my obvious interest. “It’s about the surrender. The freedom that comes with giving control to someone you trust completely.” Her words are tentative but honest, and they strike something profound in me.

“The paradox of submission,” I say quietly. “Finding freedom through surrender.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Yes, exactly. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” I tell her, my voice low.

It’s intoxicating to think about—just like her—and as our gazes lock across the table, the thread between us feels so fucking tight that it could snap at any second. And the little person I imagine dancing on that tightrope feels like they’re dangerously close to plummeting right off.

I swallow hard. “What else would you want, hummingbird? Tell me more.”

Hannah’s pupils are blown out, darkening her blue and green eyes, but she laughs breathlessly as she shakes her head. “Not so fast. You’ve already asked two questions. It’s my turn.”

I can’t tell if she’s intentionally being bratty by teasing me like this or if that’s just a bonus, but either way, I fucking love it. I lean back against the booth, a hungry smile playing at my lips as I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re right. Shoot.”

Hannah’s heterochromatic eyes shine in the dim light of the bar as she watches me. “Truth or dare?”

There isn’t an ounce of me that believes it’s safe to go the dare route. “Truth.”

The word comes out like a challenge.

Hannah smirks, the corner of her mouth curving upward. “Good, I was hoping you’d say that. Since I shared, tell me one of your fantasies.”

“My number one fantasy is to be the man doing all of those things to you.”

The words fly out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about them, and the scarlet that blooms on her face in response makes my cock swell all over again. A rush of heat crawls up my spine at her reaction. I want to touch her, kiss her, feel her, fucking take her right here and now just like she wants, but I have to keep myself in check—at least until we’re alone.

Her heart is pounding so hard I feel it in her pulse as my finger brushes across the underside of her wrist.

She shivers under my touch, her mismatched eyes darkening to the color of stormy seas. Goosebumps scatter over her skin wherever my fingers trail, and watching her body respond to my touch ignites something primal within me.

“I think it’s my turn again,” I say in a low voice. Hannah swallows hard, the delicate column of her throat working in a way that makes me want to press my lips against it. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you going to pick that all night?” I lean in closer, her orange blossom and jasmine scent filling my nostrils. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Something flashes through her eyes, a boldness that looks fucking good on her. “Fine. Dare.”

“I dare you to do exactly what you want in this moment,” I murmur. “No thought of anyone or anything else, just what you want.”

The challenge in my voice is unmistakable, a gauntlet thrown down between us.

She hesitates for a second, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she breathes. Then she abruptly leans across the table and presses her lips into mine.

The little spark that was smoldering between us before ignites, bursting into a full blown flame. Because this kiss? This kiss is different. It feels more intentional than the one we shared outside Sideline, and I can practically taste the hunger and desire on her lips that’s been swirling between us since we sat down.

I kiss her back, my hands moving with decisive purpose to cup her face between them and hold her in place so our tongues can explore each other’s mouths. The room around us fades away until she’s my sole focus, the only thing in the universe that I’m aware of. She moans into my mouth, her hands clutching my wrists, and it only makes me kiss her deeper. I take control of the kiss, guiding her with the subtle pressure of my thumbs against her jaw.

It’s hungry and passionate, just like everything between us, but… it’s something else too. There’s a vulnerability in it that I’ve only seen in glimpses from her so far. This is the first time I feel like she’s truly letting her walls down with me, like she’s really letting me in. Maybe it’s because of everything we’ve been sharing with each other tonight, but there’s no denying that something is different. Something has shifted.

Then the bartender clears his throat, and I snap out of the dream of her lips to find him standing next to our table.

He grimaces. “Uh, sorry to interrupt the moment. I just wanted to see if you need anything.” He glances at our barely touched food. “Um, refills on the drinks?”

Hannah’s cheeks are that gorgeous pink color again, and although she’s cradling her forehead in one hand, she nods. “Yeah, I’ll take another. Thanks.”

“Me too,” I say.

“You got it.” He nods and collects our empty glasses, and when he’s gone, she finally looks at me again.

“Oh my god,” she moans, but I chuckle and cover her hand with mine. Her eyes snap up, as if even that small touch is enough to send her body’s awareness into overdrive.

Fuck, I know the feeling .

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s seen worse in here.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m not sure how to feel about that,” she says, but she’s laughing. “I’m not usually this… forward.”

“I like forward,” I tell her, my gaze steady on hers. “I like knowing exactly what you want.”

She tilts her head, studying me. “You’re not what I expected, Declan.”

“What did you expect?” I ask, genuinely curious.

She shrugs one delicate shoulder. “I don’t know. After that night at the club… I guess I thought you’d be more?—”

“Arrogant? Full of myself?” I supply, and she laughs again.

“Maybe a little. Most guys who look like you tend to be.”

“Like me?” I echo, unable to hide my grin.

“You know exactly how gorgeous you are,” she accuses, but there’s no heat behind it. “I bet women throw themselves at you all the time.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “But I’m not interested in ‘women.’ I’m interested in you, hummingbird. Have been since the moment I saw you.”

She ducks her head as the bartender delivers our drinks, but she can’t hide the smile that flits across her face.

We give up the game of truth or dare after that as we nurse our drinks and dig into our food, letting our conversation flow naturally. She’s easy to talk to, and I feel a little rush of satisfaction every time I make her laugh.

When the lights overhead flicker, both of us look up in surprise. I had no idea we’d closed down the bar.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” I tell her as I drop several bills on the table, then slide out of the booth and offer her my hand. She stares at it for a second, a slightly wary look on her face, and I chuckle. “It’s okay, I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just don’t think you have any business driving tonight. Neither do I.”

“You’re probably right,” she mumbles and takes my hand to put weight on it as she tries to stand. But she sways a little when she’s on her feet and giggles.

“No, I’m definitely right,” I say with a chuckle.

With my hand on her lower back, I walk her out of the bar. The bartender is waiting at the door to lock it behind us, and I give him a nod before pulling my phone out of my pocket and tapping at the screen to call us a ride.

“What’s your address?” I ask her, and she recites it quickly. I type in the address and tap to request the ride.

The car arrives within five minutes, a Camry with a young brunette woman behind the wheel. I help Hannah into the back seat and make sure she’s buckled in, then slide in beside her.

The driver watches us in the rearview mirror, and when my eyes meet hers, she scrunches her brows a little at the reflection of me and Hannah in the mirror as if she recognizes one or both of us. Thankfully, she doesn’t ask, just puts the car into gear as soon as I’ve got my own seatbelt buckled and turns on the radio as we hit the road.

“Oh, I love this song. Can you turn it up a little, please?” Hannah asks.

“Me too, actually,” the driver says and turns the dial. It’s not a song I recognize, but Hannah knows every word, and maybe it’s because of all the whiskey she’s had, but she’s not afraid to sing along. She gets louder as the song goes on, but the driver doesn’t seem to mind, she just grins at us in the rearview and turns the volume up a little more.

Hannah’s voice isn’t perfect, but there’s something endearing about her simple enjoyment of the music, the way she closes her eyes and gets lost in it. I find myself watching her, mesmerized by this glimpse of her when she’s completely free of self-consciousness.

I’m fucking obsessed with this woman, and I can’t stop touching her. Can’t get close enough to her. The memory of her has haunted me ever since that night we shared months ago, and I honestly never thought I’d see her again. So to be sitting here in the back seat with my hand tangled up in hers and listening to her singing, so carefree and happy, feels a little surreal.

When we stop outside Hannah’s apartment, that feeling only grows stronger. I always knew she had a place she called home, but to be here and see it while her warm body is pressed against mine and our fingers are linked together makes me feel like I should pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“Would you mind waiting for me while I help her inside?” I ask the driver, and she nods in the mirror.

I help Hannah out of the car, then walk her to the front door. She fishes in her purse for her key and finally digs it out but dawdles on the stoop like she doesn’t want this night to end any more than I do. I’d love to follow her inside, to do all those things she said she’s fantasized about, but not tonight. Not when she’s had this much to drink.

I want her fully present and sober when I finally claim her the way we both want.

Instead, I rest one hand on her upper arm and lean in to kiss her. She meets me, her lips parting. We linger in it, and she wraps her hands around my neck to kiss me deeper. I don’t want it to end, don’t want to let her go, but I reluctantly pull back and brush her cheek with the back of my fingers, smiling.

“Thank you for a great night,” she says, and I wrap my hand around the back of her head to gently pull it closer to me so I can kiss her forehead.

“I should be the one thanking you , hummingbird,” I murmur as I lean back. “I had an amazing time.”

“Me too. Good night,” she turns to unlock the door.

Once she’s safely inside, I stand there for a moment longer, staring at her closed door, already counting the minutes until I can see her again.