Chapter Forty-Six
Amber
With Declan having left under the guise of an emergency at work, I find myself struggling to sleep alone, especially after the barrage of recent events.
I can’t shake the way everyone spoke to me about him.
George acted like he didn’t have a brother.
Kent seemed wary about me calling, though I suspect it might be a best friend trying not to rat out his buddy.
Of course, the sleeping pills are refusing to do their one job, leaving me here to weave a million terrible theories into conspiracy blankets.
Am I being deceived? Is he seeing someone else? Where was he really? Would Declan turn his phone off so that nobody could reach him? What is he hiding?
Knowing how responsible Declan usually is, I can’t help but consider every possible terrible scenario, no matter how absurd.
Is his name even Declan? Is Kent in on it? Does he have a brother?
THUMP!
Something smacks against the house. With the random winds in this area, it could be anything. It’s probably the trashcan.
THUMP!
The sound grows louder, but I try to ignore it.
CRASH!
The third time sounds more akin to a dumpster crashing into the garage door, which would alarm me, if I had a dumpster. My concern is tickled, but not enough to move from beneath my cozy blankets.
THUMP, CRASH, BANG, RUMBLE!
The house starts shaking—swaying back and forth like a boat in a hurricane. I guess I can’t ignore it. Rolling out of bed, I feel sluggish and recognize the pills may be working more than I realized.
Wrapping myself in a robe, I turn on the lights and walk down the hallway, across this big ass house, and out to the driveway. The noise and tumbling have stopped. Because of course they have. The neighborhood is filled with the sounds of dogs and cats lamenting their misfortune.
Rolling my eyes, I finally realize I’m all alone. My neighbors won’t be joining me in the street.
Dammit.
THUMP!
That’s definitely the trashcan on the side of the house.
Tired of standing around, I stroll around the end of garage where the gate to the backyard is latched to a fencepost cemented onto the house’s foundation.
The combination padlock I use to keep strangers from waltzing freely through my backyard slows me down, but I eventually work some magic and get through the gate.
It’s odd that the motion-sensor floodlights haven’t come on.
I try waving my arms and jumping up and down but remain in the dark.
There’s a glint of streetlight from the sidewalk, but it’s of little help.
THUMP!
That noise crashes again, yet the bins don’t seem to be moving. The hairs on my arms and neck stand on end while a chill runs down my back.
Well, this is exciting.
I almost laugh, thinking it would be better than crying.
THUMP!
Still, I see nothing.
What is that?
I creep closer to what I think is making all the ruckus, but now I’m not so sure.
THUMP!
There must be a raccoon or something trapped inside.
That wouldn’t account for the whole world bouncing beneath me a few minutes ago, but I'm too tired to put two and two together.
I stretch my right arm out while my left hand clings to the dangling sleeve.
Taking a deep breath in and out, I quickly grab the lid and yank it off the trashcan.
Nothing. It’s empty. There isn’t even any trash inside.
Great, I got all worked up for nothing.
When I try to put the lid back where I grabbed it, I see what, in my opinion, is the scariest thing on the planet—a Black Widow spider—on the top of my hand.
“Aaaah!” I shout, flinging my hand and tossing the trashcan lid into the neighbor’s backyard.
I turn and run back around the front of the house and inside, my arms flapping the whole way.
The red-hour-glass-spotted arachnid flew off somewhere between my scream and the door closing.
Now, standing in my living room, I perform an impromptu rain dance, jogging in place, as I strip off my robe, tank top and underwear, and check every visible speck of my skin for more tiny, black would-be assassins.
Eventually, I conclude there are no more bugs crawling on or around me and make my way to the kitchen, leaving the discarded garments on the floor for someone else to incinerate later.
I’m not going to sleep for a week.
Guzzling a glass of room-temperature tap water, my heart thudding in my chest. Pissed about the eight-legged monster and feeling abandoned, I grab the cordless phone on the counter and call Declan, hoping he’ll answer and talk me off my mental ledge.
But just as it has for the last week, it goes straight to voicemail.
What the fuck?
I’d flip the fuck out and start breaking shit, but between the death scare and the pills, I’m just too tired to unfurl a tantrum.
After putting the glass in the dishwasher, I turn off the kitchen light and head back to my bedroom.
I’m surprised by the yawn that stretches across my face but welcome it all the same.
My short, tanned legs burn from that midnight workout with every step I take.
Just five feet through the doorway, I turn to close the door behind me, and, out of nowhere, a figure in the shadow of the corner jumps out at me, causing me to clam up and stumble backward.
“Oh my God,” I tremble. “Declan, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” he says, realizing his pleasant surprise isn’t working out as planned. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m back and wanted to surprise you, but you weren’t in bed.”
I grab hold of Declan and wrap my arms around his body, clenching my hands together in the small of his back.
My breath races with a mixture of fear, relief, and sudden arousal. The adrenaline from my earlier fright combines with the warmth of Declan's body against my naked skin, igniting a fire within me. Without thinking, I press my lips to his, kissing him hungrily.
Declan responds with equal passion. His hands roam over my bare back.
"I missed you," he murmurs between kisses.
"Where were you?" I manage to ask, even as I fumble with the buttons of his shirt.
"It's complicated," Declan says, his voice husky. "I'll explain everything, I promise. But right now..."
Lifting me up and carrying me to the bed, he doesn’t bother finishing his sentence. I koala my legs around his waist, and all thoughts of spiders and mysterious noises are forgotten. Right now, all that matters is his touch—his lips on mine.
As Declan lowers me onto the bed, a nagging voice in the back of my mind reminds me of all the questions I have. All the suspicions that were gnawing at me. But the feel of his body against mine drowns those thoughts, for now.
Our movements are urgent. Desperate. Like we're both making up for lost time.
His hand brushes my exposed nipples, and waves of pleasure course through me.
I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him.
Declan's lips trail down my neck, each kiss sending shivers down my spine.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he moves lower—his tongue tracing patterns on my skin.
"Declan," I gasp, trembling with need.
He pauses, looking up at me with dark, hungry eyes.
"What is it, baby?"
For a moment, I consider asking him again where he's been, demanding answers to all the questions that have been tormenting me. But the desire coursing through my veins is too strong to resist.
"Don't stop," I whisper instead.
Declan's mouth curves into a smile before resuming his adventure south.
His hands and lips explore every inch of my exposure.
I lose myself in the sensations, pushing away all thoughts except the feel of his touch.
The sound of his ragged breathing. And the taste of his skin as I pull him back for another kiss.
But he won’t be deterred from his goal. I watch as he lowers his head, tracing his tongue down my chest and across my navel.
He presses his lips softly on my waist before journeying further between my legs.
His hot breath on the insides of my thighs sparks a euphoria I’ve longed for days.
He bites my flesh ever so slightly, then kisses the redness his teeth leave behind.
Yearning for him to take things further, my legs curl around Declan’s shoulders and tug, urging him to lick me.
Happy to oblige, his tongue finds the most sensitive spot.
I gasp, and my fingers clutch the sheets as ripples of pleasure wash over me.
Knowing exactly how to build the tension, he works me like an expert, bringing me to the edge and then backing off.
He presses his taste buds against my swollen clit and drags that marvelous tongue of his up and down my folds, sending electric shocks through my body. My hips buck involuntarily as he increases the pressure and speed. I'm climbing higher and higher, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Oh God, Declan," I moan with one hand tangling in his hair, while the other grips the headboard.
He hums in response, and the vibrations intensify the ecstasy.
My thighs begin to tremble as I feel my climax approaching.
Declan slips two fingers inside me, curling them as he continues his relentless assault with his tongue.
My hips move with a mind of their own, grinding against his face as I chase my release.
Right when I'm about to crest that peak, Declan pulls away with a final kiss to my hardened clit.
I whimper in frustration, throwing my head back on a pillow at the head of the bed.
But, my tantrum is cut short when he silences me with a profound, passionate kiss.
Tasting myself on his lips heightens my arousal.
In one smooth motion, he enters me, filling me completely.
We move together, finding our rhythm quickly.
It's familiar yet exciting. Comfortable yet intense.
As his girth stretches my slick pussy, Declan's eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, there's only us, only this connection. His thrusts consume me, and I feel like I’ve been on the verge of coming for an age.
Declan's pace quickens, his hips slamming against mine with increasing resolve.
I cross my ankles at the base of his back and pull him deeper each time he pounds his throbbing cock inside me.
The headboard bangs against the wall, but I'm beyond caring about the noise.
My nails dig into his back as I feel myself sprinting to the edge once more.
"Declan, please," I pant. "I'm so close."
He grunts in response, and his movements become more erratic.
I can tell he's close too. One of his hands snakes between us, and his thumb finds my clit. He rubs me in tight circles, adding a modicum of pressure with each rotation. The added stimulation is too much, and I’m falling from that glorious cliff.
My back arches as a monsoon of pleasure crashes over me.
I cry out Declan's name as my inner walls clench around him.
The intensity of my orgasm triggers his own, and he buries himself deep inside me with a final thrust, groaning as his cock unloads.
When his hips finally stop bucking into me, he collapses onto my chest, leaving me with the warmth of Declan's body and the sound of our heavy breathing.
But as we lie there in the afterglow, reality begins to creep back in.
I lower my head to look at Declan, studying his profile in the dim light.
He must sense me staring at him, because he lifts his head to meet my gaze.
He seems different somehow. There's a tension in his jaw that wasn't there before, and his expression feels far away.
Then he slides himself beside me on the bed and reaches a hand toward my head.
"I really did miss you," he murmurs, stroking my hair. "More than you know."
I want to bask in this moment. To believe that everything is fine. That all my fears were unfounded. But I can't quite shake the unease that's been building.
“Declan," I say softly, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him. “I’ve had the craziest night, and that was before… this. And holy shit, did I need this.” I close my eyes and exhale through an unexpected aftershock.
I kiss his cheek and try to focus. "But, what's really going on?” I ask.
“Why did you leave so suddenly? And why couldn't I reach you before?”
“Amber,” Declan says with an evil grin growing on his face, and suddenly the room turns freezing cold.
“Oggggrrrd,” I wail out in agony. I start to push myself away from the man of my dreams when I look down. His free hand pounds another thrust into my gut, and a butcher’s knife stabs deep into my intestines.
“Ha, ha, ha.” A creepy tone chuckles in my ear. Gazing back at my attacker’s face, I find an unsuspecting pair of bright red eyes glowing deep in Declan’s face. He presses down with his hand, causing the long sharp blade to cut through my insides.
Gasping aloud and opening my eyes, I find rays of sunshine highlighting my face while my alarm clock blares to the heavens.
I guess the sleeping pills did work.