“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.” He sets the food aside and flips the other box open. He always gets the peppercorn steak and fettuccini.
“Are you okay with the guys coming over?”
“Oh yeah, of course.” He nods a bunch of times and focuses on twirling noodles on his fork.
“It sounds like there’s a but coming.”
“I think we should probably keep what’s going on between us.”
I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Uh, it’s not like I’m going to tell the guys you’re giving me orgasms because I’m incapable of giving myself one.”
“Yeah, no, I know. I just mean, I don’t think they’d like it is all, so we should act like nothing is going on when they’re here.”
I set my fork down and give Declan my full attention. His ears are going red, and he’s been spinning the same noodles on his fork since he brought this up. “You don’t think they’d like it if they knew I was having orgasms?” I’m playing dumb, because I know if I push hard enough, Declan will crack and come out with it already.
He gives me a look. “No, Ave.”
“Are you worried it will make things awkward?” I’m trying to figure out why he’s suddenly so sketched out.
“I don’t want to rock the boat, especially when you’re still healing.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I like all this time I get with you right now. I like that I get to take care of you and make you feel good. I don’t want there to be drama with the guys to mess it up, you know?”
I’m trying to understand why he’s so adamant about keeping this from the guys. “Why do you think there would be drama?”
“They’ll have questions. They’ll want to know what the deal is and what we’re doing.” He threads his fingers through mine and brings my knuckles to his lips.
“What exactly are we doing here, Deck?” The question comes out an uncertain whisper. I’m acutely aware of the way my body is already reacting to his touch. My skin tingles as his lips move along my knuckles, soft and sweet, and an ache swells and settles between my thighs. It makes me both nervous and needy.
“I don’t know. I guess it really depends on what you want this to be.” He flips my hand over and presses his lips to the inside of my wrist. “But I don’t think the guys need to know about how well I’m taking care of you.”
I huff a laugh. “It only happened once, maybe it was fluke.”
It’s Declan’s turn to chuckle. “That sounds a lot like a challenge.” He unthreads our twined fingers and tugs at the edge of the blanket covering my legs. “Should I give it another shot? See if it was a one-time thing or not?”
I lift my shoulder in a careless shrug. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to at least see, would it?”
“Probably a good idea, really. That way we’ll know for sure if it was a fluke or not.” His fingers drift up the outside of my thigh and slide under my nightshirt.
“You’re probably right.” I bend my knee and the blanket slips off my leg. We both look down as his hand moves higher, curving inward, the fabric bunching as he goes.
His fingertips brush over me, skimming the sensitive skin.
A soft moan escapes my lips.
Declan’s lips meet the edge of my jaw. “Fuck, Ave, that has to be my new favorite sound.”
“Oh, yes please.” I shift, giving him better access.
“Definitely just a fluke since it doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying this much.” He bites my earlobe on a low chuckle.
“Stop talking smack. Your ego is going to ruin this for me.” I grab the back of his neck and twist my head until our lips meet.
We tilt our heads, mouths opening to accept each other. Every sensation is heightened, my awareness magnified. This is about so much more than physical gratification, at least for me.
Maybe I should have expected this level of connection. In a lot of ways it makes sense since we know each other so well, but the intensity of the emotion isn’t something I anticipated. Want and need take over. I pull him closer and lift my hips, seeking more of his touch, wanting more pressure.
“Did you think about me today? About how good I made you feel?” he whispers against my lips as his fingers tease and explore.
“Deck.” I try to pull his mouth back to mine, but he shakes his head.
“Don’t wanna admit it? Think it’s gonna go to my head?”
I groan in frustration and at his soft touch.
His grin is devilish and his eyes darken, but under that lurks another emotion that I recognize as vulnerability. “Just tell me, Ave, that’s all I want.”
“Yes. I thought about you all day.” About how good he makes me feel, about how I want more of this closeness, about how I can see the possibility of how good we can be together.