Chasing Serenity (Seeking Serenity) (31 page)

He stares up at me, thumb on bottom lip before he moves in to steal a kiss. “Very, love.”

My body should have been exhausted. I have pushed it beyond its limits. The two hours I slept after the marathon was not enough to rest all the sore joints and muscle. The marathon of Declan and I together last night should have collapsed me, left me incapacitated. It did not. I felt energized, as though the reserves of vigor left huddled beneath my bones, overflowed and filled to urge me further, over his body, taking all that he could muster.

He mustered three times last night.

When we slept, he was soundless, his heavy body pressed against my back, colorful, warm arms draped around my stomach, gripping me so that I could not move or shift. It was comfortable and I can’t recall the last time I dreamed so vividly, REM sleep taking me into deep slumber, relaxing my muscles, my mind so that I woke refreshed.

The soft patter of rain against my windows this morning had me unwilling to move. Declan’s hot breath against my neck, the scent of his body, had me wanting to move against him. But in the silence of the room, in the contentment of my bed I felt something that I thought would never again be mine to claim. Peace. Serenity. Safety.
 

I enjoy the steady rhythm of his heart pulsing against my back for a few moments longer than I should, drinking in this quiet ease, before my aching body demands I move. I don’t want to wake him, but it is difficult to slip away without rousing Declan a bit. He grumbles as I push his arm back, then rolls onto his stomach and instantly curls my pillow under his chin.
 

The hot spray from the shower beats a healing path over my skin, massages into my aching joints. I wince when the water hits my blistered feet, but then I stretch my back and stand still under the showerhead and the pleasure of the steam and scalding water pelt into my body, massages away the ache. I smile at the thought of the other twinges my body releases, at how they came to me and at images of Declan’s body over mine, of me gazing down at him.
  With each thought, my smile widens.

The cool air rushes into the steamed bathroom when the door opens and I wait, listening for what Declan will do. The faucet runs, he yawns and then the shower curtain inches open. His green eyes are bright, friendly, then quickly spark as they sweep over me.

“Budge up, will you, McShane?”

I step back and he is in front of me, tall and broad, a smile pulling his lips. For a moment, I’m struck speechless, not certain if he’ll want to shower and leave. An irrational fear is also present, a fear that he’ll regret last night, though I suspect if he did, he would have simply left when he heard me turn on the shower.

When I cross my arms over my chest, he pulls my hands away, brings me close so that our chests touch. Declan’s fingers glide over my shoulders, across my collarbone and cup my breast. He shifts his gaze to me and the smile is gone. “Are you sorry, then? About last night.”

“No. Are…are you?”

His arms wrap around me like a cloak and his hands run down my back. “Are you mad? You’re all I’ve thought about for months now. I couldn’t even stay away from you. I tried, but it was just no good.” He pushes me back to watch my face. “I didn’t come here last night for that and it was sudden, I’ll grant you, but no. I’m not sorry a’tall.”

My mind wars against indecision and doubt. He felt so good against me and I thought we found our rhythm together. But there is still my own doubt, the brush of uncertainty that I had disappointed him. I can’t help myself. “Did you…was it good?”

He laughs. “Christ, McShane, better than good.” Then he shows me how good he thought it was. Hands cupping my face, Declan’s quick thrust into my mouth, working my lips until they are numb, quickly amplifies, sets chills across my skin despite the hot spray on my back. “I want you again. Always. All the time, don’t I?”

“Now?”

“Oh yes.”

Declan picks me up, sets me against the tile and licks the water from my neck, cups my ass until he is nearly ready to enter, but then he jerks back. “I’ve forgotten. Dammit. Do you have anything, in here?”

“What?” I ask, confused, but then his eyebrow lifts and he looks down at his standing-at-attention body and realization dawns, makes me curse myself for not thinking of it before. “In the medicine cabinet above the sink.”

He sets me down on my feet. “Don’t move.”

It takes him only a minute and he is already prepared before the curtain closes and Declan returns his attentions to me. My back squeaks against the cold tile as he lifts me up, settles my legs around his waist and then enters me. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him buried inside me. It had only been a few hours, and still I missed this. He holds me, hands trained on my lower back and I am so filled, so satisfied just by his body rocking against me. I don’t mind that he isn’t kissing me, that his fingers don’t tease me. This is enough for now, just the two of us connected and the heat from the shower mixing with the fog of our heavy pants.

“You fit me so well, Autumn,” he says and I have to agree. I love the way he covers me, how his hands grip me, how my body seems made for his.

Declan kisses my breasts, lapping up the water from my skin and my hand climbs up the wall, head working side to side as I clench around his length, so close to shattering already. When my climax builds, I feel his stare, heavy on my face, his breath against my wet skin and I love the attention, love how I feel full, deliciously stretched.

“Look at me,” he whispers. “I need to see you.”

But I can’t keep my eyes from clamping shut, they are too heavy, my body too full of sensation. “I…it’s too much.”

Then, my eyelids instantly launch up, widen as Declan thrusts harder, as his fingers squeeze against my hips. He is deeper than he ever was last night. “Look at me, love,” he says. One finger slides lower down the curve of my ass, lower still… ”There, that’s it.”

“How are you doing that?” I have to dig my fingernails into his shoulders to keep from slipping out of his grasp.

Declan’s smile relaxes me, settles the quick beat of my heart as that wandering finger slinks lower and an unbitten moan bubbles from my throat. “Like that, McShane?”

“Ye…yes. Oh God—“

He pulls my lips between his teeth, gentle, nibbling, and continues to pound into me, and my breath grows labored. Declan’s eyes are the darkest of I’ve ever seen them, deep pools of green that flirt near inky black and his movements are firm, steady, his pace climbing like a crescendo. “I want you to say my name… like you mean it,” he says, pulling my chin up so that I can look nowhere but in his eyes. His scrutiny is fierce, commanding and I swear my body clinches tight against him without my direction. “I want you staring in my eyes, looking at me while I fill you up with nothing but my name coming off your lips.” He pounds still deeper, quicker and I can’t concentrate on anything but the searing kindle buzzing in my body, running to peak in my core. He leans into me, teeth pulling on my earlobe. “Do you mean it, McShane?”

“I…I do,” I say, my voice weak as he plunges deeper.

“Then say it. Say it for me, love.”

“Declan.”
His name, issues from my lips like a promise, a declaration that I would not ever stop loving this, that each syllable would be held tight in my heart and nothing, no one, could make me forget, could ever fill me like he does.

And when I soar and our eyes lock, the steam mingles with our accelerated breaths, my orgasm pulling him in deeper and I watch the play of emotion on his face, how the creases under his eyes soften, relax as he thrusts inside me. A second, perhaps two, and Declan’s eyes slam shut, but I touch his face, scrap my nails against his stubble and they open, searching. “I need to see you too.”

He shatters, eyes rolling up, lip sandwiched between his teeth and I am struck by how beautiful he is, how his gruff barriers have disappeared and the raw, honest look on his face is reserved for me, something I suspect not many have ever seen.

My hand still on his face, my chest tight, I attempt a kiss but am stopped when his whispers something against my lips.

“What did you say?”

He takes a breath and that naked expression hasn’t changed. “I said, ‘I love you.’”

My mouth hangs open and I am overcome by his scrutiny, but the way his eyes won’t leave mine or how tight his hold on my thighs have become. “I…”

“Don’t, will ya? I don’t think I could bear to hear you reject me.” He sets me down and I hate how empty I feel with his body separated from mine.
  “Not yet. Don’t say anything until you know it.”

He kisses me then leaves the shower.

“You’re going to get a stomachache if you don’t slow down.”

“I’m starving.” Declan pulls me onto his lap and tries to feed me a pan fried dumpling dripping in sauce. I shake my head and he licks his fingers clean. “You exhausted me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Never, McShane. It was well worth it.”

My kitchen table is littered with opened boxes of Chinese food. We have at least managed to get dressed, more or less, and avoid touching each other long enough to feed ourselves. There is contentment yet again, as if the banter between us and the comfort we feel is natural and effortless. When I try to move off his lap to reach for the noodles, he pulls me back and I jump up, feeling the hard wedge between his thighs. I am more shocked than offended.

“What? Can’t help it, can I?” he says.

“Declan, again? It’s only been,” I look at the clock over my mantel, “half an hour.”

He ignores me, pulls me back onto his lap, his hand fitting under my shirt to cup me like it is the most natural thing to do. “Isn’t this what’s called the ‘honeymoon phase’?”

“That’s reserved for married couples.”

“Nah, it’s for everyone in a new, um…”

I laugh at the quick sweeping blush that passes his cheeks. “You weren’t going to say relationship, were you?”

Declan’s lips twist into a pucker. “And if I was?” He pauses, a small beat to narrow his eyes at me. “What would you say then?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

“Why?” He turns me in his lap.

I’ve been so focused on training, on sorting out how I felt about Declan, how I didn’t feel about Tucker, on my father and rebuilding our relationship that I didn’t give the details much consideration. I know I like him, I might even love him, but didn’t think there was a rush to label whatever it is that we have. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Scared, are you?” Bingo. How the hell does he do that?

“A little. Maybe.”

Declan’s features soften as his arm tightens around me. “I’m not Morrison, love.”

“I know that. I know you won’t treat me like he did.” Declan relaxes against the chair, pulls me to his chest and I love listening to the steady pulse work in his neck. “I was never with him.”

“Hmm?” he says and tilts his head, doesn’t catch my meaning.

“These past few months. We weren’t actually seeing each other at all.”

Declan pushes me up, holds my arms by the elbow. “What?”

“I only told you that because I was mad and I guess I wanted to make you jealous.”

He pulls his hand away from me completely. “Why would you do that, McShane?”

“Because you hurt me. Because you acted like I didn’t mean anything to you and then
  whenever I was with Tucker, hell, whenever  he even looked at me, you acted like a crazy person.”

The scowl he wears starts to falter. “So you didn’t kiss him?”

“No. I only agreed to go out with him because I knew he was hanging something over your head. I was trying to find out what that was.”

Declan straightens his shoulders, his back, and pulls our fingers together. “About that.” He clears his throat and I have to push down the nervousness I feel, the great swell of tension that passes from him to me. “I tried to tell you last night, before—” Declan gives his hand a wave, “but you distracted me.” There is a half-smile on his face, self-deprecating and mildly unapologetic. Finally, his eyes shift up and I can feel the moment surfacing. “Tucker knew, well, about my family, when he came to Ireland to recruit—”

Three quick taps against my door breaks between Declan’s confession and I instantly glare across the living room. “Ignore it,” I say, but Declan shakes his head and moves me off his lap.

Limbs straight, so that he seems very tall, highly imposing, he walks to the door, but when he hears Sayo’s voice, “Autumn, it’s me. Open up,” Declan’s gait slows, relaxes.
 

He opens the door, buttoning his shirt. “What the hell…oh. Hi. Um, where’s Autumn?” He steps back and Sayo thunders in. “Are you okay?”

“I was,” I say, giving Sayo a pointed look.

She whispers, “I want details” then recovers. “I tried calling you this morning.”

“I must have forgotten to charge my phone.” I stand, head toward the hall to retrieve my cell from the bedroom, but Declan waves me off.

“I’ll get it. I have to check my messages anyway.”

The second he disappears down the hall, Sayo attacks. “Okay, how did this happen?”

“He came over last night,” I say, pulling her away from the hall to sit at the kitchen table.

“I mean, obviously. So you two—” she finishes her question with a ridiculous eye waggle.

“Yes, that exactly.”

Sayo starts to smile and I know there is a stupid girly gush about to evacuate past her thin lips, but Declan returns with his phone in his hand, scrolling over the screen and my best friend sobers.

“So, I had to tell you. Both of you, actually,” she says, her eyes shifting between us. “Tucker called Sam last night. He said Mullens kicked him off the squad.”

Declan’s head jerks up, eyes off his message and wide on Sayo’s face. “How’s that?”

She nods. “Mullens found out what he did to Autumn and between that and the bet, which he yelled at Layla about for a solid hour last night, he told Tucker he hadn’t acted like a captain. Something about behavior unbecoming a captain. When Tucker argued with him, told Mullens he couldn’t do that, he kicked him off the squad. He’s out.” Declan steps toward her as though he can’t believe what she’s saying. “The rumor is you’ll get captain.”

“God, that’s wonderful,” I say, coming to Declan’s side.

“Yeah, well, when Sam told me this morning, I got all happy.” Sayo takes a breath, wrings her fingers together. “He got pissed at me and we broke up.”

“Sweetie,” I say, reaching for her.

“It doesn’t matter. No big.” Another shrill tone and I know my friend is lying. She and Sam always seemed to get along well, despite his friendship with Tucker. There’s something she’s not telling me, but I won’t push, not with Declan here. “Anyway, I thought I should let you know.”

Declan grabs Sayo’s elbow, bends down to kiss her cheek. “Cheers, Sayo. Really. That’s great news.” I try not to laugh at the awkward way my best friend moves her shoulder and brushes her pink hair behind her ear. Declan looks at me, nods toward the door and I follow him.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’ve got to go. Something’s come up, but I want you to see you again. Tonight.”

“Okay.”

Uncaring about Sayo’s presence in the room, Declan picks me up, fixes me tight to his chest to kiss me thoroughly. When we break apart I have to blink my eyes to focus. His palm rubs my cheek, thumb back to my bottom lip. “Listen to me, Autumn. I didn’t get the chance to talk to you about everything, but I want you to know I meant what I said.” He lowers his voice. “I love you. Don’t forget that. I don’t say it lightly.” I don’t like the way he says that, like it’s a warning.

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes are soft, mouth barely pulled in a grin. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

The falls are quiet this afternoon. Though I know I should be resting, possibly gorging myself on ridiculous vats of ice cream, I had to meet with Ava to fill her in on what’s been happening these past few months.

She hadn’t been in her office and I really wanted a run, so I headed for the falls, hoping the brisk air would clear my head. I run alone, my pace steady, and let the cool temperatures relax me. Sayo hadn’t left for a solid hour, and it took me insisting that I’d fill her in on all the gory details of my night with Declan after my meeting with Ava for her to leave. My best friend really was just a silly high school girl at heart when it came to men. And sex. And me and men and sex.

The music from my iPod fills my ears, and I enjoy the twin sensations of Bruno Mars’ “Locked Out of Heaven” playing loud and the refreshing breath of the fall wind whipping around my body. I love the seclusion of the falls when I run alone. Thoughts of all that’s happened lately are clearer here with my mind full of oxygen. The Dash, Declan’s presence in my life, Tucker and his ridiculous taunting, it all reorganizes in my mind. Mullens told Ava about Tucker which had her immediately calling me and insisting that we meet today. I don’t know why she hadn’t been in her office. Over the phone, I told her about my first meeting with Declan, his attack, him wiggling his way into my life. She wasn’t happy that I didn’t let her know what he’d done. She went mildly President on me about that, but then she mentioned liking him, liking that he wanted to get me the first edition Lee for my birthday.
 

At the thought of Declan, my mind flashes back to last night…to his skin, his shoulders, his touch, his lips, and his eyes, so sincere, so raw when he told me he loved me. I have to think about that one. I’d asked myself the same question over and over again since he left this morning: do I love Declan? He confounds me. He confuses me and the past few months have been a whirlwind to say the least. Until I met him I hadn’t realized what I’d been missing…that my life, while comfortable, was a bit beige. Joe’s abandonment and the accident were huge, life-shattering events, but there has still been happiness, laughter in my life. I thought life was good, but then Declan shows up and everything is in upheaval.

I think about his smile, his laugh, his overwhelming presence—and then I think what it had been like when he was with Heather. I stop short, realization flooding my mind. The thought of him with anyone else, the thought of him doing to anyone else what he did to me last night…the thought of him telling someone else that he loved them…well, no. I couldn’t bear that. Dear God. I love him. Shit. I’m in love with Declan Fraser.

I don’t bother finishing my run. Mid-way up the falls, the honest realization that I was in love with Declan slowed my steps, made my chest knot up and burn. How did this happen? How had I allowed myself to fall so quickly for someone who was utterly and completely wrong for me?

My legs cramp from the abrupt stop. I stretch my arms over my head, distracted by my thoughts. When Ava runs toward me, I know something is wrong. The first thing that occurs to me is how odd it is that she is even here, knowing how much she loathes anything that looks remotely like physical activity, but then I notice the deep lines around her mouth and the worried stretch of her eyes. Immediately, I race toward her, my heart somewhere in the vicinity of my throat. My first thoughts are of Sayo, then Declan. God, if he had somehow managed to get into another fight…

I reach Ava and her arms stretch toward me. “Autumn, we have to go.” I start to ask what’s happened, but she shakes her head, stopping me. “It’s Joe, honey. He’s had a massive heart attack.”