12. Declan
12
DECLAN
T his was an insanely bad idea—of epic proportions bad. I couldn’t even really explain why I offered it up. My only excuse was I felt like Hayden inviting me had caused a rift of some sort with the people who were supposed to come along yet didn’t.
Trying to pull the gawking grunts from the window, I asked, “So, what do y’all normally do when you’re here?”
“Dude, I don’t think I even know where here is!” Priest said, his eyes still glued to the view.
I couldn’t help but laugh at him, but I knew what he meant. I could look at that view for hours. All I needed was a couple fingers of whiskey, some good music playing softly in the background, and that view. My eyes drifted to Hayden’s tall, broad body, and I sighed.
Add that big, sexy fucker to the view, and, yeah, I’d be content for hours.
Possibly days.
Shaking my head, I walked to the security closet in the room and scanned my palm. The door popped open, and I pulled out the laptop I’d need to set the guys up with access to the room while we were here.
“Hayden,” I called out after setting up at the bar and logging in.
“Yeah?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. I sighed. Jesus Christ, he was fucking beautiful. I needed to get my reactions to him under control before someone caught on to all the sighing.
He moved toward me with that slow hip-roll swagger he had that hinted at what he could do to you with the monster in his pants. I swallowed yet another sigh and chastised myself for being swoony. I’d never been swoony a day in my fucking life.
“What’s up?” he asked, his arm sliding around my back, resting on the top of the barstool as he braced his other hand on the counter next to the laptop.
Our eyes collided when I looked up at him, and a soft gasp left my mouth because the electric shock that traveled between us took my breath. This man was dangerous. Seriously fucking dangerous. He had me doing shit I never dreamed I’d even consider, much less enjoy. Yet, I did enjoy them. I’d spent the week we were apart dreaming about them. I even woke up drenched in sweat and cum a few times, and the times I woke up clean, it was only because my raging hard-on woke me before I got off.
Forcing my eyes from his, I cleared my throat and licked my lips, trying to settle myself back into the professional I needed to be for the next bit. When that didn’t do the job, I took a deep breath, letting my eyes fall closed, only opening them when I exhaled.
“Umm, I need some info from the guys.”
I clicked a bunch of keys and buttons, and Hayden’s phone buzzed. Without looking at him, because I couldn’t seem to do so without falling into a fucking needy slutty mess, I said, “That’s your access card for the room.”
He pulled out his phone, tapped the link I sent, then said, “I’ll forward it to the guys.”
Clearing my throat, I corrected him. “That won’t work. The card is attached to the cell phone. “Sending it to the others won’t work for them; it would flag you as a security risk, preventing it from working for you, too, and I couldn’t add you back with that device.”
“Fuck. That’s some serious shit. Okay, I’ll forward you contact cards. Does that work? You don’t need a blood sample or handprint?”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“No. That’s saved for secured weapons and headquarters.”
I’d said it as a joke, but it wasn’t. The security system at our weapons depots and the private military locations were some crazy ass shit straight out of Batman. It is no joke that we even had our own bat cave. It was in a South American jungle and held a covert ops location big enough to house numerous contractors, helicopters, and all the vehicles they could ever need.
He leaned down, his lips brushed my ear, and he whispered, “You’re full of fucking surprises, carin?. Aren’t you?”
I licked my lips before turning to look at him. His minty gum breath caressed my face, and I tried to look him in the eye, but my gaze caught on his lips. His full, pouty mouth called to me like a siren. I struggled to keep from answering.
“You’re fucking dangerous, Papi.”
That mouth, yes, I was still staring at it, curled up in a smirk, and my head jerked back. I hadn’t clocked his movements or even registered him gripping my hair.
“Yes. I am, but then again, vato, so are you. You push me toward shit I’ve never done or even considered. You’re all I can think about, but…” he paused and looked around the room, “I think there’s shit you’re not telling me, and it scares me.”
“Nothing that matters.”
“And you’re the one that gets to choose what matters to me?”
“We all have secrets, Hayden, but anything I’ve not told you… it doesn’t change who I am or how you make me feel. And since we’re talking about being scared, the way I respond to you, the way you make me, that scares me to death.”
“Hey! We came to party, not take in a live porn show!”
Hayden didn’t respond. His eyes searched my face until one of the guys yelled, “Hayden!” and then he said, “It scares me, too,” before he released me.
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and my phone buzzed on the counter. I ignored it to watch him walk away.
Damn.
That saying about loving watching someone walk away had to be written for Hayden Marin.
“Y’all help yourselves to the bar while I finish up here.”
Hoops and hollers filled the room as the guys rushed to the other side of the bar I sat at. A dark, sexy bass line filled the room, and exclamations of glee blended in when they discovered the stash of top-shelf liquor.
Moments later, Hayden sat a drink in front of me. “I hope it’s made right.”
I looked up at him with a smile. “Thank you. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s pretty hard to fuck up a Vodka Cranberry.”
I sent off the access cards to the guys and shut the laptop, returning it to the security closet. When I came back, Cameron was lining up shot glasses. My brow lifted when he flipped a tequila bottle like a pro and poured out fourteen shots, as if he did it every day.
“Someone’s tended bar.”
“Nah, just a misspent youth with money to burn and parents who didn’t give a fuck what I did or with who, as long as it didn’t reflect badly on them.”
I knew the type but held my tongue because while the family had more money than Midas and Uncle Matthew could make even the most unsuccessful venture turn a profit, we were all raised to work. I learned to muck stalls on the ranch before I was out of preschool and was working the roundup before middle school.
“Alright, boys, let’s get fucked up!” Priest yelled, holding up two shot glasses.
I laughed, following suit as did everyone else. When we all had our glasses, he said, “Up to it, down to it, fuck those who don’t do it. We do it ‘cuz we’re used to it. Drink up, motherfuckers!”
I tossed back both shots, flipping them over in front of me when I sat them down. Looking at Hayden, who looked back at me, heat turning his eyes even darker and sexier.
I was gonna regret this night.