11. Declan
DECLAN
We takeDa’s private jet to Vegas, and Bree’s eyes widen.
“What? Your father doesn’t have a private jet?”
“He does.” She sits down in one of the plush chairs. “But he only uses it for business. I’ve never been on it.”
“This is still business.” I shrug.
“Of course,” she mutters. “How could I forget?”
I look at her, smiling. “You almost sound disappointed.”
“Well, I did expect we could have a little fun.” She buckles up her seatbelt as the pilot announces that we’re about to take off.
I reach into the cabinet behind me and pour a glass of champagne for her, handing it over before pouring my own.
“Don’t worry, princess. We”re going to have lots of fun.”
She sips the champagne, looking straight ahead.
It’s about a three-hour flight, so once we’re in the air, I put my hand high up on her thigh.
She looks up at me, having finished her champagne. “You trying to ask me to join the mile high club?”
“And what if I was?” I unbuckle her seatbelt, and she looks at me for a moment before climbing into my lap, straddling me.
She rocks her hips forward, and I start to harden beneath her immediately, groaning against her throat before kissing her there.
“Only one rule,” she murmurs. “You gotta let me be on top.”
“I’ve never minded a woman on top.” I grin, and she scoots back on my thighs, reaching between us to unbutton my slacks.
She frees my cock from my pants and pumps it up and down until I hiss, putting my hand on hers.
“Were you going to blow like a teenager?” She giggles.
“Maybe.” I smirk. “But I wanted to be inside you first.”
I bunch her dress around her hips, tugging aside the crotch of her panties so that she can seat herself on top of me. She does. So slowly that I’m sure she can feel every inch.
Bree lets out a long moan as she gets me to the hilt, and I grit my teeth to keep from thrusting up into her like I want. She wants to be on top, so she gets to be in charge.
Bree’s up for it, though, bracing her hands on my chest and bouncing on top of me. The slick wetness of her walls and the way her breasts bounce in my face get me close to the edge quickly, and I grab onto her hips to slow her movements.
“Wait. Just a few more minutes.”
She whines, trying to rock her hips. “But I’m so close.”
“Me, too.” I grab onto her hips, moving her on top of me slower, at a steadier pace.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, that’s good.”
“So fucking good.” I kiss her neck, biting down on the base of her throat. She moans, bucking her hips, but I keep the rhythm steady.
She comes around me, pulsing, in just a few more strokes, and I only last a few more after that, my orgasm hitting me like a freight train.
Bree breathes heavily and leans down to kiss me, slow and sensuous.
I chase after her lips when she pulls away, smiling, to go to the bathroom.
I watch her walk away, her hips swaying, and I want to grab her and kiss her again, but I restrain myself.
It’s strange, really. This could almost be a real marriage if it weren’t for how things started. And more and more I’m finding I wouldn’t mind that one bit.
We stopin front of the Four Seasons. ”What do you want for dinner?” It isn’t until she looks up at me that I can see how tired she is, bags under her eyes. I guess the trip has really worn her out. “What about room service?”
She smiles. “I just want to be in a bed. I plan to live there until tomorrow.”
I laugh. “Sounds good to me, princess.”
The valet takes the car, and the bellhop takes our luggage, so all I have to do is check in before we head up the elevator.
She leans against me as we get to the top floor, the penthouse suite, and I kiss the crown of her head.
Our things have arrived before us, and Bree walks in and promptly falls face down on the bed, groaning.
“Oh, God, it’s so comfortable.”
“It should be, with as much as this place costs.”
She turns over, looking up at me upside down on the bed. “Isn’t your dad paying?”
“He is, but I’ve booked this penthouse myself.”
“Let me guess. Business.”
I laugh. “No. I usually come to Vegas for pleasure.”
“Oh yeah. I heard you like Blackjack.”
I turn and blink at her. “My sisters told you that?”
She pretends to zip her lip and lock it with a key, and I chuckle.
“My sisters talk a lot. I’m used to it.”
“Are you going to teach me to play?”
“You don’t know how to play Blackjack?” With where she comes from, I’d assumed she did.
Bree shakes her head. “My dad doesn’t like playing cards.”
Funny, that. Because he probably got caught cheating.
But I don’t want to start a fight. Bree’s been considerably better the last couple of days, maybe excited for the vacation. I haven’t told her that I brought Sean and Finn O’Toole, knowing that she’ll hate the idea of being watched. But she needs someone to protect her while I’m away taking care of business. I have a couple of things to do while we are here, and the first order of business is meeting up with John Renno and his friends.
The things I have to say to John can’t be done over the phone, but I’m surprised Da didn’t want to come himself. Maybe he’s really pushing this marriage thing.
I have to admit, I like being a married man, so far. Even when she’s mad at me, it’s good to have someone to come home to. Good to have someone I can go head-to-head with before sinking myself into her.
It’s not about feelings, though. It can’t be. She’s still Murphy’s daughter, and this is supposed to be just a means to an end.
Besides, it’s not like this is going to last forever. It’s just until her dad is gone because once this war is over, so are me and Bree. We’ll get a divorce and go our separate ways.
It’s not like she wants me anyway, regardless of what these weird growing feelings inside me want to make me think, and I’d never force myself on a woman.
I just want her to be happy, and as long as this marriage lasts, I’ll do my part, but soon she’ll have her freedom back to choose who she wants to be with. And that won’t be me, for sure.
That makes my blood boil, and I can’t understand why.
It’s not like I have feelings for her or anything. I’m just getting used to her, I guess.
I have to admit, though, that I’m enjoying her company.
I watch as she stands up, muttering as she unzips her dress.
I raise an eyebrow, and she snorts out a laugh.
“No funny business. I’m just uncomfortable.”
“Change into your swimsuit. We’ll go down to swim after dinner.”
“Aren’t we supposed to wait?”
“I was a lifeguard in high school—that”s just a myth.”
“Ooh la la,” she drawls, going into the bathroom to change.
I frown. I wanted to see her naked body, but I guess there’s plenty of time for that. I’m still mostly satisfied with what happened in the plane, so I don’t push.
The room service comes while she’s changing. She’s ordered some seafood, and I ordered a steak.
My mouth is watering from the smell as the bellhop wheels it in, and I throw him a hefty tip. He’s about to exit when Bree walks out of the bathroom, wearing what appears to be navy blue dental floss.
I gape at her, how her breasts spill out of the top, how her hips nearly hide the strings. It’s a thong bikini, too, so her perfect ass is on display.
I look over at the bellhop, and his eyes are nearly bulging out of his head.
“Get the fuck out,” I say in a low tone, and he all but sprints out of there.
Bree giggles, plopping down on the bed, and the rest of her jiggles as she does so.
“Jesus Christ. You’re not wearing that to the pool.”
“And why not?” She pops a shrimp into her mouth.
“Because you might as well be naked, that’s why.”
She tilts her head. “What, can’t handle a little friendly competition?”
“There is no competition.” Anger rushing through me. “You’re my wife.”
She just hums, and I realize that short of locking her in the room, I’m not going to win this one.
“Fine, but you stay near me.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not something you can just own, you know?”
“You are mine. I do own you,” I remind her, and her face flashes with something I can’t quite name. Hurt? Anger? A little of both?
“I know. My life is not my own.” She turns glum, and I want to kick myself. Why would I mess it up? We’ve been getting along so well.
Bree and I eat in silence, and finally, I let out a long breath.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“For what?” She looks at me.
I lick my lips. “For being a possessive asshole.”
She barks out a laugh. “Well, thank you, I guess? Never expected you to apologize.”
“I might have to apologize again. I can’t make any promises with you wearing that.”
She laughs again, and it seems less forced, more genuine. “I’ll stick close to you.”
“Thank you.” I smile, hoping that I’ve gotten her out of her bad mood.
Two hours later,Bree and I are swimming in the pool with a couple of cocktails on the pool edge. She breathes out a happy sigh and floats on her back.
Thank God, there’s no one else at the pool, so I don’t have to worry about men staring her down and undressing her in their minds. I don’t want just any asshole to see my wife like this.
She looks unbelievable, though, and I want her so badly I can’t wait to get her back to the bedroom.
She floats, looking up at the tall ceiling of the indoor pool. “When do you have to do your work?”
“Not until tomorrow.”
She smiles, sitting up and treading water, eventually swimming back over to me and looping her legs around my waist.
I hold her up with one hand on the small of her back, wanting to kiss the water beads off her chest and throat.
But in the end, she swims away from me, getting out of the pool and grabbing a towel.
I frown at her, still treading water. “Where are you going?”
“Your sisters told me I had to hit the slot machines.”
I laugh, following her back to the room.
We get dressed and again, she goes into the bathroom, as if I haven’t seen everything she has to offer. It’s a bit annoying, but if it makes her feel better, so be it.
I dress in a button-up shirt and a pair of jeans, not wanting to stand out too much. It’s possible that some of the bouncers still remember me from when I was in my early twenties.
I certainly hope not.
Bree comes out of the bathroom wearing a cocktail gown, deep green with sequins all over it, and it brings out the green in her eyes. It falls just a few inches above her knees, but it’s backless with a plunging neckline.
“God, did you only bring clothes that make you look like a supermodel?” I ask, only slightly irritated.
She laughs, tilting her head back with the force of it, and the sound of it makes the room feel brighter.
She takes my arm, slipping on a pair of black stilettos, and follows me out of the hotel room down to the ground floor, where we get into my car and head to the casino.
“We can spend the night here, if you like.”
“Yeah? Spend the night at Caesar’s Palace? I’d love to.”
Bree sounds excited, almost like a little kid, and I can’t help but smile at her.
“Whatever you want, princess.”
“I want to learn Blackjack.”
I snort. “I don’t think they’d like it if I taught you all my tricks on the floor, but you can watch me play for a bit.”
“And then we can go to the slot machines?”
I nod, putting an arm around her waist and leading her into the casino.
It’s huge, of course, lights everywhere, the slot machines whirring and dinging and bells ringing. It’s raucous at this time of night, too, and Bree’s eyes widen as she looks around at the marble floors and each table.
I take her slowly to the Blackjack table, and she stands next to me as they deal my cards. She looks at the cards with me, humming in the back of her throat, and when I win four rounds in a row, the dealer starts to look a little antsy.
I hold up my hands, stepping away. “Just a lucky streak.”
“Do you cheat?” Bree whispers in my ear, and I clamp my hand over her mouth.
“No, but you don’t say that in a casino.” My tone is low, and she closes her mouth, going silent until we make it to the slot machines.
“I still have no idea how to play Blackjack,” she says. “But I know how to play slots.”
I laugh and sit next to her, ordering us a couple of drinks. She has a taste for Moscow Mules, it turns out, and I’m more of a beer and wine person.
She pulls down the slot arm and frowns. Then I put her arm back on it, rolling it again with her, and it pays out two hundred dollars, spitting quarters everywhere.
Bree squeals and takes the ticket claim, and I take it to the cashout area. I’ve won ten grand myself, in four hands, and with her two hundred, we have more than enough to entertain us.
“How about this—we use this to gamble with for the rest of the trip, and whatever we win, you can keep?”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really.” I lean down to kiss her temple, grinning at her exuberance.
She grabs my face and kisses me.
I grab her around the waist, kissing her back deeply, and when she starts to melt against me, I pull away.
“Tease,” she accuses, but then I put her against the wall of the elevator, kissing down her throat, popping a nipple into my mouth through the fabric of her dress.
As soon as we enter our room, I pick her up and fuck her right there, against the wall, and when I carry her to bed, she puts her head on my shoulder.
My heart starts to race, but I tell myself it’s just the excitement of the night.
She wakes me up when she gets out of bed, stretching, walking naked to the bathroom.
I watch her go, loving the way her ass and hips jiggle, but when she returns, she’s dressed in a pair of shorts and a blouse.
“What’s on the docket today, hubby?” she asks, only the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice.
I sigh. “Unfortunately, today I have to do a little business. But you’ll have some company.”
“Company?”
I take her to the front door, putting my fingers in my mouth and whistling loudly.
Sean and Finn O’Toole come out of their rooms, standing in the hallway and waiting for instructions.
“Oh, Jesus,” she mutters.
I look down at her. “I know you’re probably not happy about this, but someone needs to keep you safe while I’m gone.”
“Someone needs to keep me prisoner while you’re gone, you mean.”
I close my eyes.
I knew this wouldn’t last forever.
“I’m sorry, princess—” I start, touching her hand, but she wrenches away from me, sticking out her hand.
“If you’re going to leave me all day with these thugs, you’re going to pay for it.”
I smile and put a stack of bills in her hand. She’s right. This is the least I can do. This is our honeymoon after all and I’m leaving her behind for a few hours.
I wish I didn’t have to, though. Yesterday was the closest we’ve ever been, and it felt better than I ever dreamed it would.
Her hurt just now when she realized she was staying with the twins pierced my heart deeper than it should be possible.
As she puts the money away, part of me is proud because it is almost as if I’m being the man I should be as a husband. I’m taking care of her.
And my damned traitorous heart skips a beat.
I grab her around the waist, pulling her to me, and she fights just for a moment before melting against me when I kiss her deeply.
“I’ll see you soon.” I let her go.
She stumbles a little, pouting,
I head toward the elevator, smiling, hoping that maybe she is starting to enjoy being with me just as much as I enjoy being with her. And that is a dangerous thought.
My smile fades when I realize what I have ahead of me, and I take a deep breath.
I am so fucking tired.