Chapter 3 Declan
I watch the man from my perch high above the crowd.
A light sweeps across him, and his face comes into view.
He has delicate features that any model would kill for.
He has curly brown hair that bounces with his movements, and looks soft to the touch.
My fingers itch to know what it would be like to pull his head back by it.
The need to touch this man is consuming me.
I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.
“Who has you so captivated?” Finn asks when he comes to stand beside me at the railing. “You’ve been staring at the dance floor for almost ten minutes. I don’t think you’ve even blinked. Which one is she?”
I point to the man. I look over at Finn, and he hasn’t noticed who caught my eye. He’s looking for a hot girl, not the guy I am watching.
“Baby blue shirt, black pants.” I point to the spot where my prey is still dancing.
“You know that’s a guy, right?” Finn asks like I’m some idiot.
“Yes, I know it’s a man, fucktard.”
“So, what, you’re into guys now?”
“Just him.” I feel this draw grow into something more.
Who is this man? What is it about him that makes it impossible for me to look away?
It should throw me off that it’s a man, but that fact seems to intrigue me more.
I watch as another man slides in behind him and, after a minute, puts his hand on what does not belong to him.
A possessive feeling bubbles inside of me.
I’ve decided I want him. It’s obvious that my new obsession doesn’t want the man touching him.
Good for him, because it makes what comes next easier.
I don’t give a fuck if he thinks he belongs to someone else.
He’s about to get a crash course in who he belongs to, and that someone is me.
I can hear Finn laugh as I make my way to the stairs.
I tap one of the two security guards at the bottom and motion for him to follow me.
“Throw this guy out. Get his name and blacklist him.” I tell him before making my way through the crowd.
I am getting even more pissed off when I see him being half-carried toward the bathrooms. While yes, Perfection is an upscale club, the bathrooms and the darkened hall are used for more intimate encounters.
And that is not happening. My anger builds the closer I get to them.
If this weren’t so public, I would tear the man to pieces and do it with a smile.
A picture of him tied to a chair at the family compound flashes in my mind.
The bastard bumps into me. He tries to step around me, but my size and ire won’t allow it. He turns his head to see who is stopping his movement. I can tell by the look on his face that he knows who I am. I lean in and whisper in his ear, something just for him.
“Let him go and walk away with all of your blood where it should be, or don’t, and you will be bled out on this floor. Now decide.” My voice is low and cold. I want nothing more than to feel his blood on my hands.
I keep my eye on the man who has caught my attention as I say it, not looking away from his face.
He thinks he is safe now. But is he when he’s drawn my attention?
The fucker touching him lets go of him, and security throws him out.
My little obsession finally meets my eyes.
His are like melted milk chocolate, rich and creamy.
They are big and round like a deer’s. Beautiful.
álainn, in Irish. My cousins and I learned to speak Gaelic fluently growing up.
It’s not a language widely spoken in the US, so it allows us to communicate without others understanding us.
He leans in and yells what I think is a thank-you.
Between the almost foot height difference and the blaring music, I can’t be certain that’s what he said.
I point up to the VIP section and start walking that way.
My body is hyperaware of him now, and when I feel he is not with me, I turn to see him still standing in the same spot.
He is just standing there. He should be following me.
I don’t think he is physically hurt; maybe it’s a mental or emotional trauma response.
I take two steps back to him and grab his wrist, not tight enough to hurt, but enough for him to brook no argument.
I feel the heat of his skin, as if a pulse not my own had entered my body.
This response is new. I need to understand why.
I want to take him out of the club. Away from everyone else, where it’s only me.
But I know he would not be comfortable with that.
As we make our way back to the VIP area, I look up to see all three of my cousins at the railing watching me with bemused looks on their faces.
Liam has his phone out, pointed directly at us.
He is either recording my little altercation or FaceTiming with Ronan.
Either way, I don’t give a shit. A tug on my hand gets my attention.
“We can’t go up there! That’s the VIP area.”
“We can, and we are,” I say as I continue to pull him along. The security guy moves the rope so we can climb the stairs. All three of my cousins are standing near the top of the stairs. I want them to disappear.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” Finn leans toward him with a grin on his face.
“Mine. Now fuck all the way off.” I snarl. My reaction only makes Finn’s grin widen. Of the cousins, Finn likes to stir the pot, then sit back and watch the destruction. He thrives on chaos.
“I’m Xavier. Is it okay that I’m up here?” He asks. Didn’t I tell him it was okay? Why is he asking these jackasses?
“Considering that you were just dragged here by one of the owners of this fine establishment, I’m pretty sure you won’t be allowed to be anywhere else. You see, we own this place.” Liam winks at him. Yes, fucking winks. I don’t like it, and before I can stop it, a growl leaves me.
“Won’t be allowed… wait, I’m sorry about the disruption.
I don’t even know that guy. I’ll just go.
I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
” He stammers out. He tugs again at my hold, trying to get me to let go, but it isn’t happening.
I dig deep into the few social norms I know and come up with something to say to calm him down.
“I want to make sure you are okay, so you are staying here with me.” It came across as a command, and that’s okay; it’s the way I mean it. Xavier is going nowhere anytime soon. He noticeably relaxes.
“Okay, thanks. But I promise I’m fine. I need to text my friend to let her know where I am.”
“What friend?” I ask. He’ll learn quickly enough that his life and his choices are no longer his own. I’m not sure how he’ll take this change in his life, but it’s how it’s going to be.
“Why don’t you text your friend to meet you up here. I’m sure she will enjoy the view. I’ll even meet her at the stairs so that she won’t get lost.” Conor offers. He is doing this on purpose, and I can’t help the sneer that crosses my face.
“If you’re sure that’s okay. I don’t..”
Conor cuts him off. “It’s no trouble at all.
A friend of yours is now a friend of ours.
I’m Conor, by the way, and this is Liam and Finn.
” He adds, pointing at each in turn. “And I suspect that your hero hasn’t introduced himself yet.
Meet Declan, your black knight.” Xavier turns toward me and blushes.
“Don’t you mean white knight?”
“Nope,” he says, popping the p, “I definitely mean black knight. Text your friend and tell her I am waiting.” I roll my eyes at Conor.
He is the biggest man whore of us all, so hopefully the friend will be kept busy while I get acquainted with my new obsession.
He takes out his phone and quickly sends off a text.
He looks out over the balcony railing and scans the floor below.
He must see who he is looking for because he waves his hand above his head.
The smile on his face makes him that much more beautiful, but it also pisses me off that it is aimed at someone else.
It’s bright, lighting up the darkness. I look to see who I may need to kill, and I see a very petite little blonde wave back and start making her way over to the stairs.
She’s tiny but cute, but nothing compared to Xavier.
Conor brings his friend up the stairs. He’s close enough to her to make any sane person uncomfortable, but not so close as to cause alarm.
“Guys, this is Jesse. Jesse, this is Liam, Finn, and Declan. Would you like a drink?” He asks, calling over the server assigned just for us.
We also have our own bar up here, so there is no wait.
If there is one thing that a group of psychopaths don’t have, it’s patience.
“Could I have a vodka cranberry, please?”
“And how about you?” Conor asks Xavier.
“Um…” He looks over to me. Good, he is already looking to me for direction. Or at least that is how I am taking it. I nod my head.
“Order anything you want.”
“I’ll have a lemon drop martini, please.” He gives his order to Conor. I still have my bourbon, so I wave him off as he gives the drink order to the server.
“Xav, what’s going on? Why are we up here?
Not that I’m complaining, but I never thought we would be in the VIP section of Perfection.
” She reaches out and takes Xavier’s arm.
There are several things I don’t like in this moment, and it is taking a lot for me not to throw him over my shoulder and chain him to my bed.
I don’t like the nickname, and I don’t want her touching what is mine.
The problem is that he is currently unaware that he belongs to me and that no one would touch him again.
A thousand different ways to make this little “friend” bleed and scream in pain run through my head.
I doubt Xavier would take well to a cocktail stick being jammed in her eye, so I take a deep breath and refrain from acting on my thoughts.
I’m pretty sure the overwhelming feeling flooding through me is jealousy, but I’ve never experienced it before.
“Well, you see sweetheart,” Conor purrs, “Xavy here was getting manhandled by an asshole and our very own Declan rode to his rescue.” I shoot Conor a look that makes it clear he’ll pay for the Xavy comment later.
I need to take back control of the situation and get Xavier to myself.
But before that can happen, what can only be described as an ear-piercing screech comes from Jesse.
“Oh my god, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital, or do you want to go home?” Before she can suggest anything else, I step in.
“He’s fine, just a little shaken,” I turn to him, and he gives his nod of agreement.
I take his hand and pull him toward a loveseat in the sitting area.
Just as we sit, the server places his drink in front of him on the low table.
He picks it up and takes a slow sip. Conor and Finn lead Jesse over to a couch and start talking with her.
Finally, they are being useful. My senses are assaulted again by everything that is Xavier.
I can smell his sweat, but under that, he smells like sunshine.
It’s the only way I can explain it. It’s clean, fresh, and sweet.
I lean back and drape my arm across the back of the little sofa.
It’s small enough that my hand is behind him.
I want to touch him. I want to feel his skin again.
“Feeling better?” I ask instead.
“Yeah, thanks. And thank you for helping with that guy. I swear some people don’t know the meaning of no.
” He takes another sip of his drink. I could tell him I am one of those people because, when it comes to him, there will be no “no”.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Since when do I find the movement sexy? Apparently now.
“No need to thank me. I’m glad I saw what was happening. I’m glad I was watching you.” I say as I pick up my glass of bourbon. The amber liquid goes down smoothly. And just as I had done with him, I see his eyes on my lips and neck.
“You were watching me?”
“Yes, you are very sexy when you dance.” He blushes, and a small smile curves his lips.
His very full, pouty lips. What will they feel like wrapped around my dick?
Will getting a blowjob from a guy be that much different from getting one from a girl?
I have no idea, but I was determined to find out soon enough.