Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dublin—12 years ago
Olivia eyed the plate in front of her dubiously. The heaping plate of bacon—rashers, Declan had been quick to correct her—eggs, sausages and potatoes didn’t seem appetizing. She poked at a round, dark-colored blob before glancing to Declan, already devouring his plate. “Do I even want to know?”
“The name?” His eyes gleamed. “Probably not. Eat it anyway. It’ll put hair on your chest.”
“Yeah, that’s just what I’m after.”
Declan laughed and pushed her plate closer with his fork. “Eat. You’ll love it. I promise. And if you don’t, I’ll find you a bagel.”
Olivia resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. A few bites later, she conceded he was correct. She didn’t know what magical ingredient was in this meal, but she was hooked.
Olivia hadn’t missed the fact that the café they had stopped at, after a not short walk, had stopped serving breakfast hours ago. But, after a few quiet words to an older woman behind the counter and a kiss on each cheek, the gray-haired woman disappeared into the kitchen, following a lighthearted cuff to the back of his head and a “cheeky bastard.”
Declan selected a booth toward the back. When Olivia slipped into the seat facing the door, he’d intercepted her with a vague excuse. But she didn’t miss his quick survey of the restaurant, or the fact that every time the bell over the door chimed, he looked up to see who entered.
It should have been alarming, his vigilance to their surroundings. It wasn’t. There was no concern from Declan, only a simple self-assurance that made her feel comfortable and safe in a way she never had. Particularly not with a stranger.
“Why are you being so nice to me, Declan Riordan?”
His expression arrested, and she could see her own confusion at their situation cloud his eyes.
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
Declan shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with his own admission, and she decided to take pity on him.
“Whatever the reason, I appreciate it.”
Their gazes caught and held, something passing between them. A shiver ran down Olivia’s spine. It felt like every cell in her body was focused on this moment. On the man sitting across from her. Declan’s nostrils flared on an inhale, his pupils dilated, and she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt it.
Her voice was slightly breathless when she blurted out, “What’s the last book you read?”
She mentally kicked herself when he blinked at her. The strange intensity of the moment gone.
“ The Importance of Being Earnest . Though technically it’s a play.”
“Oscar Wilde?”
“Yes.”
His expression grew defensive, and she hurried to add, “I just finished A Portrait of Dorian Gray . I started reading Wilde when I knew was coming to Ireland. I’m a dork like that,” she babbled, feeling embarrassed. “But I was hooked. Blake used to be my favorite, but Wilde has a way of just cutting through…”
“The bullshit? Yeah, he’s a bit more blunt than Mr. ‘Love seeketh. ’” Declan popped one of the sausages in his mouth.
Olivia knew her mouth was hanging open. “You read Blake?” Declan frowned, so she hurried to add. “I just wasn’t expecting you to quote poetry. You’re an onion.”
Her cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Inside thoughts, Olivia
“Excuse me?”
“From Shrek.” Olivia didn’t think it was possible, but her face flamed hotter. She couldn’t seem to shut up. “He tells Donkey that Ogres are like onions. Lots of layers.”
Declan stared at her like she’d lost her mind. He was probably regretting being nice to her now.
“You… I mean… you quote Blake, read Oscar Wilde, but there’s also the whole…” She waved a hand at him. “Sexy, muscly, alpha-male thing going on. You’re kind of a fantasy.”
My fantasy.
Olivia wanted to slap a hand over her own mouth and disappear. Could she claim to still be drunk?
While she scrambled for a way to walk back her words, Declan’s lips lifted into a full, genuine grin. “Sexy, alpha male, huh?”
Olivia was convinced her mortification was going to reduce her to ash right there in the cafe. The only way through was to brazen it out. “I have eyes.”
Declan dragged his tongue over his lower lip, his eyes heating. The low-level arousal she’d experienced since waking up next to him exploded into full-fledged lust. Her breath caught as she stared at his mouth, and she squeezed her thighs together against the ache.
The words “let’s go back to the hotel” were on the tip of her tongue when Declan sucked in a sharp breath.
“What were your plans for Dublin?”
Olivia swallowed the words, all too aware that his thoughts weren’t on the same page. “If I’d rallied earlier, I probably would have gone to see the Book of Kells or gone on the Irish Writers Pub Tour. At this point, I’m sure all the tickets are sold out for the library, and I think I should probably give my liver a break.”
“I can get you in.
Olivia studied the dark curls of his bent head as he pulled several bills from his wallet and laid them on the table. “Yeah? With no ticket?”
He looked up and smirked. “Yeah.”
She narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if he was serious, and decided to call his bluff. “Okay.”
“Finish your food, Petal.” He jerked his chin at her plate of food. “It’s a bit of a walk.”
A steady drizzle started on the trek back up the hill to the city centre. Declan shrugged off his jacket and insisted she hold it over her head when he noticed her shivering in the rain.
“Who told you wearing just a thin sundress would be appropriate for Irish weather?” He laughed.
“It’s summer,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
“Irish summer is not the same thing, Yank.” He grinned at her, rubbing her chill-bumped arms.
His words reminded her of something that had been puzzling her. “How come you don’t have a strong accent, like your cousin?”
Declan’s arm slipped to her waist, pulling her away from the curb as a car approached, rainwater splashing out from its tires. “I have an accent.”
“You do, but it’s not as thick as I would have expected.”
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Did you think we all sound like the Lucky Charm’s leprechaun?”
She flushed. “No.”
Declan chuckled, the arm around her waist giving her a quick squeeze. The heat radiating off him was unreal, and Olivia resisted the urge to cuddle closer. “My dad is an American.”
“Oh.”
“Here we are,” he said, turning under the gate to the quadrangle of Trinity College. Declan tucked her under one of the massive stone overhangs. “Wait here. A friend of mine is working. Should be able to get us in.”
Olivia bit her lip, the chill was becoming uncomfortable, and she suddenly realized what he was proposing. The ticket times were well past, and the rain had driven all but a handful of the most determined tourists from the grounds.
She was essentially a rule follower, and without Declan’s grin to distract her, Olivia’s brain had kicked back into overdrive. “I don't want to get you in trouble.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her temple and winked before walking backward out into the rain. “Stop worrying, Rose. ‘ I can resist everything except temptation. ’”
“Did you just quote Oscar to me?”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were on a first name basis.” He grinned, the dimple in his cheek appearing.
“Yeah, we are,” she shot back, but Declan had disappeared around the corner of the building.
Less than five minutes later, he returned with a short man, dressed in a suit, in tow.
“Come on, Rose. Live a little,” he whispered, pulling her out of the alcove and over to a side door. Without a word, the man unlocked the door with a heavy-looking iron key and gave Declan a speaking look.
“Thirty minutes. They’ll be making the rounds.”
Declan clapped the man on the shoulder before dragging the door open and propelling her forward. The dim light of the hallway hit her at the same time as the faint mildew smell of old books. It was heaven.
“If I go to jail, I’m blaming you.”
“You aren’t going to jail.”
Declan led her through several small hallways and short staircases until he pushed open a heavy, carved wooden door with a creak, and Olivia gasped.
In front of her, from floor to ceiling, and covering one end of the long library hall to the other, were the priceless books of Trinity College.
“Oh my god.” Olivia’s heart fluttered as she took a few halting steps forward.
Declan smiled at her, interlacing their fingers again. “Book Of Kells?”
She nodded as he led her to the illuminated manuscript displayed on a pedestal.
“They only moved it in here recently. It used to be at the top of the stairs, which would have made it more difficult. Lucky for us, they are getting ready for an exhibition.”
“This is incredible.” Olivia turned back to the rows of books. “Can you imagine what must be hidden in these shelves?”
“Have you always loved books?”
Declan rested his hip on a bench set in the middle of the hall as Olivia strolled down the length of the room.
“Always.” She craned her neck to look at the books near the ceiling. The building’s thick stone walls and the rain outside made her feel they were completely separate from the rest of the world. “I haven’t had as much time to read in the last several years, but I love it. It’s always been a way to escape from the real world.”
“Did you want to escape?”
“Sometimes.” The admission startled her.
Declan pushed away from the bench and walked toward her. “What is your favorite thing to read? When you want to escape?” His voice was hushed when he stopped in front of her.
Heat swept through her at his proximity. Olivia caught a hint of his cologne as he absently adjusted his jacket on her shoulders. Her hormones kicked into overdrive, making it difficult to form a coherent thought. “The Romantics,” she managed. “Wordsworth, Blake, Shelley…”
Declan’s damp curls had fallen onto his forehead, and this time when her fingers twitched, she didn’t resist. He sucked in a breath when she pushed them back, and then lightly ran her nails through his hair.
Declan’s eyes burned into hers, the hard planes of his face drawing tight. Olivia felt like she was drunk, even though the alcohol had left her system hours before. There was a magic to this place, and it made her bold.
She wanted him. This mysterious, complex man who she’d met by chance. Olivia knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t act on it.
Lifting on her tiptoes, Olivia pressed her lips to his. At first, she thought he wouldn’t respond, his lips remaining still. But when she flicked the tip of her tongue against his lower lip, it was as if something snapped inside him. Powerful arms clamped around her waist, and pulled her hard against his body. Declan’s mouth slanted over hers, his tongue stroking inside. Tasting and teasing as she moaned into his mouth.
Olivia clutched at his huge shoulders as he thrust a hand into her hair, holding her still beneath his lips. Declan’s kiss was all-consuming, and filled with an urgency that left her breathless. His mouth moved with a desperate hunger, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
When his teeth scraped along her lips a shiver ran through her. The hand gripping her waist flexed, and he pulled her even closer until he was cradled between her legs.
Adrenaline and lust pulsed through her. Olivia felt delirious, and with a gasp she broke the kiss and placed a hand over his chest. His heart thundered beneath her palm.
“I want you to take me back to my hotel now.”
Thunderclouds formed in Declan’s eyes, and he stepped back. Knowing where his mind had gone, Olivia fisted his shirt in her hand and pulled him back to her mouth.
“Your friend gave us thirty minutes,” she said against his lips, when she lifted for air. “I need more than that.”
Declan’s jaw clenched twice, emotions she couldn’t identify racing across his face.
“Please,” she whispered.
His whole body trembled, and then her hand was in his, and Olivia was doing her best to stay on her feet as he strode for the door. The drizzle was still steady; the rain was refreshing on her overheated skin.
They were silent as Declan led her back through the streets to the hotel, her fingers securely interlaced with his like he was worried she might change her mind and pull away. It should have felt awkward, the long walk back, but with every step, she was more confident.
There was no rational reason for her to feel this level of closeness to someone she’d met less than twenty-four hours before. But Declan made her feel safe… valued. As if she was the most important person in the world. When Olivia covered their joined hands with her free one, he looked down at her, raindrops clinging to his eyelashes.
The hotel door had scarcely shut behind them when Olivia found herself spun to face him. Declan was shoving his jacket off her shoulders, his mouth crushing hers. Lips and tongue claimed her as goosebumps covered her skin, and her nipples hardened. Olivia groaned, almost lightheaded with need, as she arched her hips against him and yanked at his shirt. Desperate to touch his hot skin.
Barely breaking their kiss, Declan reached an arm up and roughly pulled his shirt over his head, before tossing it to the floor.
Olivia’s fingers scrabbled at his belt. His big hands cupped her shoulders, and his lips traveled from her mouth and over her jaw, leaving a trail of kisses. “Easy.” His lips teased at the delicate skin of her ear lobe.
Declan let out a low groan when she cupped him through his jeans, filling her with a sense of power. His head tipped back, his eyes squeezed shut, panting as her palm pressed and stroked against the length of him.
“Fuck. Slow down, Petal.” Declan ignored his own words, lifting her and walking the few steps to set her on the edge of the bed. Olivia reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head in one movement. Declan’s nostrils flared as he took in her white cotton bra and panties. She hadn’t brought any sexy underwear for the trip, not expecting that anyone would see it.
Declan’s reaction made her feel as though she were the most desirable thing he’d ever seen. His face taut, he placed a hand beside her on the bed, his massive chest pushing her flat. When his lips found hers, the kiss was slower. His thigh bumped hers wider, and he settled against her.
Olivia whimpered and attempted to lift her hips to grind against his erection, but Declan’s weight had her deliciously pinned beneath him. Panting, she clutched at his back, her nails digging into his skin, her mouth biting down on the hot, tight skin of his chest.
Olivia had never felt this way before. She was out of control. Her whole body was on fire. The intensity of sensation was so strong she thought if she didn’t come soon, she might be at real risk of heart failure.
“Wait,” Declan growled against her neck as he decorated her collarbone with open-mouthed kisses. When he licked between her cleavage and pinched her nipple between his fingers hard, she bucked upward.
“I don’t want to wait.” Her voice was a desperate whine, and she twisted her hands tight in his hair, trying to pull him up from his exploration. “I need you in me… now.”
Declan pulled one bra cup to the side, and the feel of his rough palm was almost her undoing. Her head thrashed, and her legs shook as his tongue rasped against the pebbled peak.
“So beautiful,” he said, blowing cool air across her moist skin. His fingertip lazily circled the nub. “Perfectly pink. Just like your mouth,” Declan’s lips closed over her, tugging and sucking her into the hot moisture of his mouth.
Olivia cried out as almost painful electricity shocked her between her legs. Declan slipped a hand between their bodies and into her panties, his fingers curving over where she throbbed. He nipped at the underside of her breast with a groan as one thick finger slipped through her folds and sank deep inside her. Her legs trembled.
“Perfect.” The guttural sound came from deep in his throat. “You feel fucking perfect , Petal.”
Lifting off her slightly to pull her underwear down her legs, she felt his weight lower over her again. “Open for me.”
Olivia’s thighs fell apart, and she bit back a sharp cry as a second and then third finger joined to stroke and twist, curling inside, driving her insane. Olivia’s body tightened into a coil. “Declan… yes. Oh my god…”
His thumb pressed against her clit, and she exploded. Declan swallowed her scream in a kiss, as a rainbow of color burst behind her eyelids. His fingers slowed, gliding in and out as wave after wave of pleasure shook her body, his lips moving gently over hers.
Pulling back, Declan stood next to the bed gazing down at her. “Your whole body turns the most delectable shade of pink when you come.”
Propped on her elbows, Olivia watched as he removed his jeans and boxer briefs, shoving them down his thick thighs and kicking them away.
She tried not to stare. She really did. But if Declan in clothes was sexy, Declan naked and fully aroused, violet eyes hooded with desire, was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. He wrapped a hand around himself, stroking once, a half-hopeful, half-resigned look on his face.
“Don’t suppose you have a condom?”
Olivia grinned and pointed at her suitcase. “An entire box of pink ones.”
She thought he’d ask the obvious question, but within seconds Declan had found the box and rolled one on, settling himself between her thighs. He stroked his tip through her slick folds holding her gaze. “Pink is definitely my new favorite color.”
“Hen party fav—” The last of the word lost. She cried out as he surged into her. He stilled for a minute, letting her adjust to the fullness.
He was so deep Olivia felt like she couldn’t breathe. Declan was overwhelming. He was everywhere. His scent in her nose, his forearms framing her face—above her, inside her.
Her hips lifted to meet his relentless thrusts, the tension inside her spiraling higher with every plunge. Declan hooked a hand behind her knee, pushing it high on his back, and angled his hips so that he rubbed against her with each stroke.
Olivia’s orgasm crashed over her, her body shaking as Declan’s rhythm became less controlled, more frenzied. He buried his face in her neck with a hoarse shout, as his body shuddered and finally slumped over her.
His weight was almost suffocating, but she didn’t care. She ran her hands up and down his arms. He was still inside her, but it didn’t feel like enough.
Declan’s lips moved against her neck. “That was…”
Olivia squeezed around him, and he moaned, before slipping out of her. Discarding the condom, he returned to lie on his side next to her, supporting his head with one hand while he watched the other lazily run up and down her bare thigh.
Olivia sighed happily, the words from one of her favorite poems slipping out. “’ And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea—What are all these kissings worth if thou kiss not me?’”
His hand stopped, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Stupid Stupid Stupid . And just when she was sure she had ruined the moment, his palm cupped her chin, and she opened her eyes.
Declan’s gaze felt like it saw all the way into her soul. With a sweet smile, he said in his low, rumbly voice. “’She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes…’”
He stopped, the thunderclouds back in his eyes, and he flopped onto his back an arm over his eyes. “I can never remember the whole thing.”
Olivia was pretty sure that at some point on this trip she must have died, because not only did this man just give her the best orgasms of her life, he quoted Byron in all his naked glory.
“What time is your flight back to the States?”
Her heart squeezed. “My flight’s at noon tomorrow, but I’m going back to Oxford. I’m not due home until next week. I’m starting a new job.”
Declan was silent for a minute, and doubt began creeping into her happy bubble. Then he was up, pulling her to her feet and turning on the shower.
“Excellent. Plenty of time to finish that box.”