Never Been Ready (8 page)

And then, there was Leah. She was the other reason I'd stayed away from Natasha. It had been years since I'd given a woman my word, and I intended to keep it. I never made women promises that I couldn't keep. It was why I was so careful with how I treated them. When I'd agreed to Leah's terms last night, it wasn't something I had gone into lightly even though the words had tumbled out of my mouth instantly. Whatever crazy, fucked-up excuse we had for this relationship, I was going to keep my promise to her until we parted ways.

I just hoped she did the same because as I'd watched her shatter in my arms over and over again while screaming my name, I'd known one thing.

I'd kill any man who touched her.

~Leah~

"Oh fuck...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 fucking 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 fucked 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?"

"Fuck 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 fuck did I agree to this
?