Page 44

Chapter 44

Declan

The law school alumni mixer is being held in a sprawling ballroom that screams old money and privilege. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead, illuminating the sea of designer suits and cocktail dresses below. One glance tells me everything I need to know—this crowd makes NHL salaries look like pocket change.

I’m no stranger to fancy events these days, but there’s fancy and then there’s whatever this is.

For the first time, it reminds me that Hannah and I come from very different worlds. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything, but as I watch her stride in beside me, her arm in mine, she looks like a natural. Like she’s done this a million times before, and she probably has. Growing up as the daughter of one of the NHL’s best coaches made sure of that.

I straighten my shoulders and adjust my cuffs, reminding myself that I belong here now too. These days, I move in these circles—different sport, same league. And while I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, I’ve earned my place at tables like these through blood, sweat, and broken bones on the ice.

My mom worked double shifts so I could chase my dream, and now here I am, with my coach’s daughter on my arm and a contract that would make her weep with pride. If these people want to judge me for not having the right pedigree, let them try. I’ve faced down 250-pound defensemen at full speed—I can handle a few judgmental stares.

As soon as we merge with the crowd, a switch seems to flip in Hannah. When I offer to go to the bar to get us drinks, she kisses my cheek and lets go of my arm, then drifts into the sea of people, several of whom recognize her instantly. I watch in awe as she effortlessly glides among them, saying hi and schmoozing like she was born for this. This isn’t a side of Hannah I’ve seen before, and again, it shouldn’t be a surprise considering she’s probably been doing this kind of thing her entire life, but it’s still a sight to behold.

I make my way to the open bar and lean against it to watch. The bartender offers to make me a drink, and I ask for two whiskey sours. I never had strong feelings about that cocktail one way or another until Hannah, but now it’s the only thing I want. As he mixes our drinks, I gaze across the room as she continues to make the rounds. She smiles brightly, laughing and nodding along with what people are saying, and I can see the way people lean in toward her, drawn in by her bright presence.

I know she doesn’t want it, but it strikes me that she’d make one hell of a lawyer. Just from watching the way she has the people here eating out of the palm of her hand, I have no doubt she’d be just as amazing at getting a jury to believe anything she told them.

This woman could charm the devil himself.

The thought makes me smile because it’s true. And the best part is that she’s not even trying. This is why she’s a great yoga teacher too—because she makes people feel like the center of the universe when she focuses on them. She makes them feel seen. I’ve been amazed with and by her since the moment I met her, but watching her now makes me realize just how incredible she is in so many ways.

“Your whiskey sours, sir,” the bartender says, sliding two amber drinks across the bar.

“Thanks,” I reply, leaving a generous tip before picking them up.

Hannah is across the room, talking to a woman about her age with long, curly hair. I make my way through the crowd, careful not to spill the drinks as I navigate around groups of future attorneys. When she notices me approaching, her eyes light up, and I catch a glimpse of the same heat that filled her eyes when I had her spread out on her bed—a reminder that she’s still simmering from earlier.

“Perfect timing,” she says, accepting her drink with a grateful smile. “Declan, this is Stevie, my best friend since undergrad.”

I politely shake hands with the woman beside her. “Nice to meet you.”

Stevie looks me up and down with a knowing smirk. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

She shoots Hannah a glance, and Hannah immediately blushes. Clearly, she’s been telling Stevie about us—which only makes my grin widen. I’m happy to know that I’ve become such a big part of her life that her friends know who I am.

“So Declan,” Stevie says, sipping her champagne, “Hannah tells me you’ve been teaching her some… flexibility moves of your own.”

“Stevie!” Hannah hisses, nearly choking on her whiskey sour.

I laugh, enjoying the playful dynamic between them. “I’d say we’re both pretty good teachers.”

We chat for a few minutes about how Stevie and Hannah met in a freshman economics class they both hated. I notice Hannah shifting her weight from one leg to the other, the slight flush in her cheeks not just from embarrassment but from the lingering arousal I deliberately left her with earlier. The knowledge that she’s standing here making small talk while still aching for release sends a rush of satisfaction through me.

After a few minutes, Stevie glances at someone across the room. “I’ll leave you two red carpet superstars to it. Good to meet you properly, Declan,” she says, giving a little wave as she melts back into the crowd.

Once we’re alone, Hannah takes a long sip of her drink before meeting my eyes. “Listen, I know these mixers aren’t the most exciting thing, but will you come be my wingman for a bit?”

“Absolutely,” I reply without hesitation. “Whatever you need tonight, I’m here.”

She might not love law school and all the shit that comes with it, but if it matters to her career, it matters to me. That’s how this works—I’d back her up whether she’s schmoozing with lawyers or teaching yoga or anything else. Besides, watching her charm all of these snobby lawyers is pretty damn impressive.

“Thanks.” She smiles, taking my arm.

Clearly, she’s not even trying to hide what’s going on between us anymore, and I can’t help smiling at how proud she seems to show me off. She leads me through the crowd of people straight to an older, balding professor in a crisp suit. I don’t know why she singled him out, but he lights up as soon as she taps on his shoulder.

“Ah, Hannah, there you are! I was hoping you’d make it tonight,” he says and immediately pulls her in for a hug.

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Hannah says, blushing at me over the professor’s shoulder as they embrace. She flashes me a look that says, Don’t even think about contradicting me on this , and I smirk at her because I can think of at least one thing she was willing to miss it for. She was practically begging me for it, actually, so if I hadn’t left her on pins and needles, we’d probably still be in her bed. I’m drawing her pleasure out and enjoying every second of teasing her with it, but I’m not going to make her wait forever.

Hannah and the professor part, and she gestures between him and me. “Declan, this is Dr. Price, one of my favorite professors. And Dr. Price, this is Declan Murray, the newest addition to the Aces.”

Dr. Price beams at me as he juts out a hand for me to shake. I take it confidently and give him a nice, firm grip. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you, young man,” he says with a smile.

“All terrible, I’m sure.”

Dr. Price chuckles and shakes his head. “Not quite. But I have to admit, that hit you took in the last game had us all worried.”

“I take it that means you’re an Aces fan?”

Dr. Price raises his bushy eyebrows at me. “Everyone here is, Declan. It’s mandatory if you live in this town.”

I can tell from the half-smirk on his face that he’s playing it up, but I decide I like this professor—and I can see why he’s Hannah’s favorite, too. But before I can tell him that, another man standing behind him who was clearly eavesdropping spins around and locks eyes with me, then smoothly inserts himself into our conversation.

“Hannah! What a lovely surprise,” says the slick-looking man with perfectly coiffed hair. “And who might this be?” His tone suggests he already knows exactly who I am but wants me to say it anyway.

“Max, this is Declan Murray.” Hannah introduces us with a professional smile. “He plays for the Aces.”

“Max Whitmore.” The man extends his hand with a too-wide smile. “Personal injury attorney. You probably already know me. My face is on damn near every highway billboard in the city. You know, ‘Get Whitmore, Get Paid!’” He laughs at his own tagline. “I made seven figures last year just from slip-and-fall cases.”

I return his handshake with a firm grip, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

Hannah squeezes my arm gently, and I swear I can see the corners of her lips twitching as if she’s holding back a laugh. “Max is a former student who comes back to recruit for his firm.”

“Only the top one percent,” Max interjects. “Hannah here is on my shortlist. Brilliant legal mind.”

I nod politely, and when Max turns to talk loudly to Dr. Price about a case he recently won, Hannah leans over to whisper in my ear. “He’s one of those TV lawyers. Rich as hell.”

“And just as full of himself,” I whisper back, and although Hannah snorts, she keeps it under wraps.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Declan. Enjoy the rest of your night,” Dr. Price says, turning back to us before he excuses himself from the conversation, leaving us standing with Max.

The TV lawyer pontificates to us for several more minutes until the fake smile I’m wearing starts to make my cheeks hurt. He doesn’t ask either of us a single thing about ourselves, which annoys me—Hannah is here to network, and even though I have no doubt that she’d never want to work for his firm, I feel like this guy should be more impressed by the amazing woman standing in front of him.

Finally, Max sees someone across the room who must be more “important” than either of us, because he quickly wraps up his latest story.

“I’d better move along. Gotta keep making the rounds,” he says with a brash laugh. “See you two later.”

He wanders off, and I rest a hand on Hannah’s lower back as I watch him go.

“What a douche,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else, but Hannah still hears it.

She shrugs, laughing softly. “He’s a rich TV lawyer. What do you expect?”

You deserve better than this crowd .

The thought flashes through my mind, hovering right on the tip of my tongue, but somehow I manage to keep it to myself. It’s true, though. Dr. Price seemed nice enough, and I’m sure the rest of her professors are fine too, but as I’m looking around the room, I can’t help thinking how fake and pretentious all of this is—and how equally fake and pretentious most of the people are.

No wonder Hannah hates this. I don’t blame her. These aren’t her people at all, and she’s nothing like them. She does a good enough job of faking it because she has to, but something tells me if she had her way, she’d never set foot in a place like this again. And that’s exactly what I like about her. She hasn’t let all of this glitz and glamour change her—she’s still real in a room full of pretenders.

As I’m surveying the room, my chest tightens when my eyes land on a familiar face I really did not want to see. Hannah’s ex, Aaron, is standing across the room talking to a small group of people.

Thankfully, Hannah hasn’t noticed Aaron looking every bit the part of the rich child of privilege he is as he schmoozes with the best of them in his expensive suit. He looks just as smug and arrogant as the rest, and even the sight of him is enough to stir my protectiveness and possessiveness again.

Something primal ignites in me.

I need to get her alone. Now .

“Come with me,” I whisper in Hannah’s ear, my voice rough with sudden urgency. I pluck the glass from her hand and set it down along with mine, then wrap my arm around her waist to guide her away before Aaron notices us and inserts himself into our business again. I’ve seen more than enough of him lately—I could honestly go the rest of my life without ever running into that asshole again—so I’m not about to create an opportunity for him to bother her.

“Where are we going?” she asks, her breath catching at my tone.

“You’ll see soon enough,” I reply, my fingers pressing possessively into her hip.

I lead her from the main ballroom into a quiet hallway in search of somewhere a little more private. My blood pounds in my veins as I try door after door, desperate to find somewhere—anywhere—to be alone with her. They’re all locked, so clearly the staff is trying to keep everyone corralled in one room, but I’m determined to find a place where we can be alone. Eventually, one of the doors clicks open.

“Found one,” I murmur with satisfaction, flashing Hannah a smirk as I pull her by the hand inside the small supply closet loaded with folding chairs and tables.

The door clicks shut behind us and darkness instantly swallows us, but in the last light leaking in from outside, I see hunger ignite in her eyes as I step toward her like a predator stalking its prey.

“What are you…?”

Her voice trails off as I stop in front of her. I can already feel myself getting hard just from the tension crackling between us and the thrill that’s playing out all over her face. Her expression softens as realization slowly sets in, and she blinks several times in succession as she tries to acclimate to the darkness.

I reach out to gently drag one finger up her bare forearm, and the way that goosebumps instantly appear on her skin makes my cock twitch in my pants. Her eyes snap to mine, and she swallows hard. It’s so quiet in the dark, small space that I can literally hear her heart pounding in her chest. The sound sends desire surging through me, hot and demanding.

“Thank god. I can’t wait any fucking longer,” she rasps through the blackness, and the next thing I know, her lips are on mine. The fire that’s been burning low between us all night long erupts into an inferno, and my tongue claims her mouth, forcing its way inside. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I snake my hands down her sides and reach up the slit of her dress for the bare skin on her thigh.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we left the apartment,” I growl against her lips. “Watching you work that room in this fucking dress while knowing you’re bare underneath…”

She gasps into my mouth and shudders against me when my fingers find her pussy. I pull back to stare into her eyes, barely visible in the darkness. “Fuck, you’re soaking wet already. Tell me it’s for me.”

“It’s all for you. You drive me fucking crazy.”

“I’ve been half-hard ever since we left your apartment,” I growl against her ear. “All I could think about was bending you over and fucking you until you scream my name.”

“Do it,” she moans breathlessly, pressing her pussy against my hand as if seeking relief.

Raw need courses through me, and I push her back against the door, forcing a gasp of surprise out of her. I fumble with my belt in the darkness, quickly undoing it and dropping my pants to my ankles. Hannah hikes her dress up over her hips, giving me full access, and I use the door as a balance to lift her up and position my cock at her entrance.

“I need you now,” she whimpers with desperate need, her legs wrapping around my waist.

“Good,” I growl, and I don’t hesitate.

I lower her down onto my cock, driving into her with one thrust. She whimpers in surprise and pleasure, her wide eyes shining in the darkness as she tries to adjust to my size. She buries her face in my neck and clenches around me as she comes instantly. I keep no distance between us, hungrily thrusting in and out of her and grinding my body against her clit to work her through it.

“That’s it, hummingbird,” I whisper harshly against her ear. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel you.”

Her head falls back against the door, her lips parting like she’s going to scream, but my hand flies to her mouth, clamping over it to muffle the sound as she falls to pieces around my cock. Her body trembles against mine, her inner walls gripping me like a vise as she rides out her orgasm.

The sight of her coming undone in my arms makes something possessive and primal surge through me.

“You’re fucking perfect,” I murmur against her neck, nipping at her skin. “So fucking good coming on my cock like that.”

As her orgasm passes and she slumps forward onto me, her forehead resting against mine, I drop my hand from her mouth to kiss her. My cock throbs inside her, dying for friction and release.

When our lips break apart, I can feel her breath mingling with mine in the small space between us as I whisper, “Do you want more?”

Her breath hitches, but she nods immediately, and just the sight of it makes my cock swell.

“Good girl,” I rasp. “If I give it to you, can you keep quiet?”