Chapter 10
Declan Buchanan
We order food from four different restaurants before I offer her a tour.
She accepts and walks barefoot through my apartment, fulfilling one of my deepest fantasies in quiet awe.
I miss her playful devil-may-care attitude from the foyer, but I don’t dare push when she’s finally in my home.
While she doesn’t hide her growing apprehension, the soft vulnerability shining from her eyes reveals just how much she trusts me.
It’s mindboggling. She should be running as fast and as far away from me as possible after seeing the violence trapped in my blood, but instead she followed me back to my home and locked herself in with me.
I won’t fuck up this opportunity. Her trust means more than anything. More than my empire. More than my grandmother. More than my cursed blood.
I lead her to the master bedroom and ignore her protests when I declare it hers for the night. She stomps after me as she argues, oblivious to our surroundings as I step into the walk-in closet.
“Go ahead and shower before food gets here,” I say as I turn and place a folded t-shirt and sweatpants into her arms.
“Declan…” She glances between me and the stack of clothes. “This isn’t going to fit me,” she says.
I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the custom shelves.
“Why not?”
She sighs, drapes the pants over her shoulder, and lifts the shirt in front of her.
“Because I have breasts,” she grumbles as she studies the shirt.
My mouth waters. I long to see her naked, but if all she’s ready to give me is walking around in my shirt, I’ll take it.
“Do you normally sleep in bras?” I ask.
“A sports bra. Sometimes,” she mumbles, almost as though she forgot I exist.
Unable to resist, I hinge at the waist until my face is level with hers.
“How about you take that one off then decide which shirt you want to wear? I can keep my hands to myself,” I lie.
She stiffens and lifts wide eyes to mine.
Less than an inch away, her startled breath teases my lips.
After a moment of uncertainty, a wicked smirk graces her lips.
Magma pulses in my balls, and my cock jerks in my trousers.
Pain streaks up from my pinched shaft, but Karey holds me immobile with her eyes.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” she murmurs.
With my heart in my throat and desperation pounding through me, I remain as still as a statue as she turns around, tosses my pants onto the nearby bench, swoops her hair off her back, and meets my stare over her shoulder.
“A little help?” she coaxes.
She gives a suggestive look downward with a little wiggle of her shoulders.
Holy shit, she wants me to unclasp her bra.
My hard on pulses and tests the structural integrity of my pants.
In complete awe of her perfection, I slip both hands under her shirt and bite back a groan at the soft, smooth, warm skin of her back.
I skim my palms up either side of her spine and trace the edges of her bra straps, exploring every inch of offered flesh.
She doesn’t complain when I skip the clasp and continue up to her shoulders, taking liberties she didn’t give and splaying my hands over her upper back. I relish her sharp inhale when I reach around and tease the sides of her breasts.
“I’m sorry, can you not find the clasp? This doesn’t bode well for other areas of my body,” she goads.
Dozens of expletives run through my mind at her quip, but I chuckle, hook my fingers around her bra strap, and tug her closer.
She shivers as I brush my lips along the shell of her ear.
“Don’t worry, cupcake, I’ll enjoy tasting, teasing, and taking every inch of you,” I promise.
I enjoy the view of her heaving breasts down her shirt. She reaches up and teases my earlobe with her fingertips.
“I’m not worried. I know how to lead my beast where I want him,” she whispers.
I growl, unhook her bra, and reach for her hips, but she slips away, snatching up the sweatpants, and stops in the doorway before I can grab her.
“Shower and dinner first. Then dessert… for both of us.”
I stare in delighted disbelief as she blows me a kiss and disappears into the bathroom.
Good goddammit, if she walks out in that semi-sheer white blouse without a bra underneath, I will one hundred percent bust a nut in my pants.
I adjust myself and curse under my breath but smile as I grab a set of sweats for myself and head to the guest bathroom.
Rubbing one out in the shower offers minimal relief, but at least I shouldn’t embarrass myself by coming too soon.
Without her within arm’s reach, discomfort vibrates along my nerve endings, but even though I want nothing more than to claim her as mine, the existence of boy toy number one and boy toy number two stop me.
Our flirting was the stuff of legends, and I fully intend to see her in the throes of passion sooner rather than later, but not before I untangle her from her ill-fated love triangle.
I’d rather deal with them the same way I dealt with her ex-new roommate, but she may never forgive me if I do.
She’s mine. All of her. Her heart, body, mind, and soul. I refuse to be her side piece. I must eliminate all competition before I enjoy the delights of her body.
I groan and drop my forehead on the tiled shower wall. Tonight will be pure torture, but it’ll be worth it when she gives me everything.
I’ll have her writhing on my cock, screaming out my name and only my name, and living by my side as soon as fucking possible.
I clean up, dress, and bring in the deliveries before she emerges from the master bedroom. Flushed from the shower and without makeup or her hair styled, she looks impossibly softer and more delicate.
Despite her bravado before our showers, a sweet shyness wafts from her and she stands in the doorway uncertainly for a moment before joining me in the living room. I hand her the remote and finish spreading out the food on the coffee table.
“Isn’t this carpet worth thousands of dollars? The couch must be expensive, too. Let’s eat in the kitchen,” she suggestions.
“First off, I don’t give a damn how much something costs; it’s useless if we can’t use it. Second, nothing is too expensive for you. Sit and eat. Spill away. I’ll keep the stains as mementos if you insist on making them,” I say.
She fiddles with the hem of my shirt.
Tight across her chest and hips but loose everywhere else, the black material highlights her amazing curves.
“Right. Mementos,” she grimaces as she settles on the couch.
My cupcake doesn’t like the thought of leaving, does she? I smirk and sit beside her.
She clicks through several different streaming services before huffing and tossing the remote at me.
“Too many options. I’m too hungry to choose,” she snarls and reaches for a plate.
Realizing I haven’t watched television for pleasure in years, I fumble around until I happen across a documentary about baby animals.
I press play and turn the volume just loud enough to hear over our chewing.
The show may not be conducive to sexy time—hell, maybe it’ll help me keep my hands off her, but probably not—but after the challenging last few days, Karey deserves a lighthearted distraction.
I dig in, my enjoyment of the food otherworldly with my cupcake by my side. Food, like sex, hasn’t held the same appeal in recent years, but Karey wakens my tastebuds and brightens my life. I need her by my side every day for the rest of my life.
Our legs brush against each other every time either one of us leans forward. Karey makes no move to put distance between us. In fact, when she sets down her plate and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch, she shifts closer and falls asleep with her head on my shoulder.
I don’t dare move for fear of breaking the spell and waking up from my deepest fantasy. Her trust floors me. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and pull her tighter against me.
She sighs and snuggles closer.
Her phone buzzes but she doesn’t budge, so I let the TV roll onto the next documentary and pull another blanket down to cover her feet.
I fight to stay awake so I can relish every moment with her, but the peace in my soul lures me into a doze, and within a few breaths, slumber overtakes me.
Deep sleep reaches up with inky hands and yanks me into a nightmare.
My father’s fist collides with my cheek. His cruel words and crueler boots torment me. Pain and misery invade every inch of my body until the overload leaks out as sweat. Everything hurts but he won’t stop.
It’s not enough. It’s never enough.
He turns toward my mom.
She still hasn’t seen a doctor since his last drunken rage, but he won’t stop hurting her. Her screams pull me down the hallway.
My father slides his belt out of his belt loops.
The world blurs.
He stares up at me with unseeing eyes from the bottom of the stairs. His body twists, but the angle of his limbs are wrong.
I killed him. He’s dead.
So is my mother.
I’m a monster. A killer. A demon.
I’m cursed.
No one is safe with me. Karey will end up the same way.
Soft, insistent hands coax me out of my nightmare.
I snatch them off my face and push my father to the floor.
Karey’s terrified shout clears away the fog. I curse and roll off her with my heart in my throat.
My worst nightmare almost came true. I can’t let it happen again. She needs to get away from me, but I can’t let her go.
I flop onto my back and throw my arm over my eyes to hide my shame.
“Sorry, cupcake. I almost squished you. Let’s get you safely in bed.”
My voice doesn’t sound like my own. Deep, tortured, broken. There’s none of the detachment I show in public nor the life Karey gives me.
She deserves better.
My stomach bottoms out as she crawls over and curls up next to me. Emotions clog my throat as she wraps an arm around my chest and drapes her leg over my hips.
“What are you doing?” I growl.
“I feel safest here.”
Her words steal my breath and mend another piece of my shattered heart.
I need her. All of her.
Which means boy toy number one and boy toy number two must go. Tomorrow.
No matter what it takes. Karey Justice is mine and only mine.