3. Declan
Frustration radiated off him in waves which caused something inside of me to twist. Helpless to do anything to assist, I had to watch the young woman sit opposite of Brogan, and try to coerce him into an interview on the very last topic he’d ever want to talk about.
Ordinarily, he would’ve just thrown her out as soon as she announced her intentions, but after a visit earlier in the day from a detective, and the arrival of more salacious gossip being spread about him, he was exhausted.
Despite his apathy, though, I knew how pissed off he was to be in this situation.
It’d been something I’d wanted and had tried my best to help him with, but even I had no answers for him.
If only I could bring back the deceitful bitch to clear his name, I would.
All the lies being plastered about him were exactly that—lies!
They were still effective and taking their toll on him.
Without an alibi for the night of her disappearance, he had no defense.
Only three people knew what he’d been doing, and the missing was one of those.
Maybe she’d orchestrated this to punish him in some way, or maybe for more sinister reasons that were lost on me.
It’d be so easy to provide him with an alibi, but the truth did not set one free.
In fact, it would open a Pandora’s box that might never be closed shut again.
Finding Layla was the best chance he had to put these rumors to rest, but the truth was that we honestly had no idea where she was.
I, along with Brogan and his father, had spent a small fortune trying to locate the whereabouts of Layla Harte.
We’d even waited hopelessly by the phone, waiting on some sort of ransom call, but it never came.
That was what made us, and the police, suspect that she hadn’t been kidnapped after all.
It didn’t rule out her having run away, but she had no reason to do so.
Not only was she supposedly engaged to the most eligible bachelor in all of Manhattan, but she was the heiress to her family’s fortune.
She also had landed a role on the sitcom I was currently filming, and that had been a dream come true for her.
“I can’t believe I’ve gotten this role. Is working on this show going to make things awkward between us?” she’d asked me on the first day.
“Of course not. We’re professionals, and this is fiction.”
At least until I’d gotten a script a few days later, which included me having to kiss her. The day I had to press my lips to her, there’d been no sparks whatsoever. Unfortunately, that had led to us having to repeat the scene at least a few dozen times, much to both of our chagrins.
“Do you actually want to kiss me, Declan?” she’d asked me.
“Hardly. It’s the last thing I want to do.”
She’d hissed. “Then at least pretend as if you’re enjoying it so we can wrap up this scene. We both know who you’d rather be kissing so just pretend that person is me.”
And she’d been right. After imagining someone else’s lips plastered to mine, we’d nailed the scene. The director had remarked about our chemistry, which was met with an eye roll. The only chemistry I had with her had come from me imagining that I’d been kissing her fiancé instead of her.
Having grown up together, we’d known each other our entire lives.
Never had either of us imagined that our friendship would turn into something more, but Brogan and I had now been together for an entire decade.
It’d started off in our senior year of high school when we’d gotten drunk at a party and shared our first kiss.
Initially, we’d been mortified upon recovering our sobriety and realizing what we’d done.
I still couldn’t even remember how it had happened, but thankfully no one had seen us.
One kiss hadn’t been enough, and it led to us sneaking around to experiment with one another.
At least until we’d been caught and everything had become distant between us.
It’d dragged on for months until we’d become dorm mates in college like we’d always planned.
During our freshman year, like most frat guys, we’d been watching something pornographic, which ultimately led to the two of us kissing again.
This time, the two of us were sober as fuck, and I could still remember our tongues tentatively swirling against one another. There was no forgetting how he’d brought his hand to my throat and squeezed. The moment it tightened down on my nape, my cock hardened to stone. And his did too.
We’d kissed for several minutes, although it honestly had felt more like hours, and knowing we both needed something more than one another’s tongue in our mouth, we did the next best thing.
This time, I’d been the one to take control, and after freeing his cock, he did the same to mine, and we ended up stroking each other off.
As our hands were coated in our combined releases, I remembered pressing my forehead to his and feeling the warmth of his breath against my lips.
I’d known then that I had wanted him, and he’d wanted me.
Our entire friendship as we knew it had changed in that moment.
Our entire lives had too, if I were still being honest.
Neither of us had realized we were bisexual until that time. And maybe we still weren’t. I’d never been attracted to another man, but I was to him. What the two of us shared went far beyond simple biology or sexuality.
It’s a deep-seated love… trust… soul-searing commitment.
Most of all, it’s goddamn fucking real. It’s ours. His and mine.
I’d spent my entire life surrounded by women, but I’d never even found another man attractive, and still didn’t to this day.
Brogan’s not just another man, though.
He’s the man, and more importantly, he’s my man.
And that had been something Layla had known from the start.
Our reasons for the secrecy were different.
For me, I’d been discovered by a talent agent and landed a few recurring roles on different shows filmed here in the city.
Just starting out in the industry, I’d wanted to play up the sex pot image the media projected to further my career.
My big break didn’t come until a year later, though, and only after I’d relocated briefly to Los Angeles, where I’d been cast in supporting actor roles in two major blockbuster films.
From there, I’d begun landing coveted leading roles, and I’d had several of them now as my star continued to shine brighter. While performing onstage, I’d been giving my best performance off it as I’d lived a lie. Or maybe it was more of an omission.
Brogan and I had made the long-distance thing work, and maybe the distance between us had been made easier due to the lies we’d not only told, but lived, each day.
Eventually, I’d wanted to come out of the closet, and Brogan had been at least receptive to it until his father had closed the door before it’d ever fully opened.
Threatened with the loss of his inheritance, his executive role within the company, and his rightful place within the mighty Sinclair Empire, Stanley had gotten his fucking wish. Only, he’d been willing to give it up for me at the time.
I couldn’t let him because our secrecy hadn’t been because of just him.
I also had millions of reasons to stay in the closet, which had been what my dedicated team, mostly consisting of my talent manager and publicist, had wanted.
It seemed like everyone, but Brogan and I, had gotten their wish in return.
An arranged marriage was then quickly set up between Brogan and Layla, and I remained America’s heartthrob and most eligible bachelor. While he’d paraded around with the blonde on his arm, I’d had my share of beautiful women on mine, perpetuating the biggest lie of our lives.
What happened in the dark always came to light, though.
We’d been foolish to believe for even a second that we would get away with this.
It was truly ironic that those on the outside looking in would think we had everything we could ever want, never knowing the pain hiding our true selves had caused us.
So many nights we’d lain in each other’s arms and wished for a different life and a different world, but we’d done what was expected of us. We’d played the cards we were dealt, and breaking our own hearts was the price we paid in the silence.
I’d now been standing in the shadows watching Brogan hold his own against this young woman.
I’d made a mental note about her social media profiles she’d just mentioned, and I would later help ensure she kept her mouth shut where Brogan was concerned.
For now, I needed to conceal my presence and hoped she took the hint and left soon.
Tonight, Brogan was holding her captive with the piercing gaze of his that usually left me feeling both exposed and on edge whenever it was directed at me. He was putting on a marvelous fucking performance right now, causing pride to swell within me.
And then just like that, she rose and fled his office, but I stayed where I was until I knew she was gone.
The other annoying thing was that since I was so popular on the big screen, I was also highly recognizable.
As it were, I got my daily dose of cardio in by just trying to evade the damn paparazzi at every twist and turn.
Brogan hung his weary head as I made my way over to him. Before I could say or do anything, though, he rose and checked the door before returning to me. “I’m so fucking tired, Declan,” he confessed before slamming his fist down onto the top of his desk in frustration.
Placing my hands on his arms, I then drew him into my body. “I know, and I’m so fucking sorry, baby. When will these parasites finally leave you the fuck alone?”
His head was pressed to my shoulder as he avoided my question. The truth was that there was little he could say or do. Unless Layla was found safe and sound, this nightmare only had the potential to get worse.
It made me hold my man even tighter before he finally raised his head. “I’m so thankful you’re here. I fucking need you.”
The latter words seemed to be ripped from his throat, and I could hear how clogged each breath was with emotion. Leaning in, my lips were just inches from his. “I’m here for you, always, Brogan. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Declan,” he groaned before closing the remaining distance between us.
The moment his mouth came down on mine, I gripped his shirt. Our tongues darted between each other’s parted lips, and I began to devour his mouth, which was no less than what he was doing to mine.
My cock hardened, and even more so as he grinded himself against me.
His own was hard too, and knowing what my man needed, I moved my fingers to his belt and quickly undid it.
I unclasped the button on his pants and lowered his zipper enough to pull out his long, thick shaft, which swelled in my hand.
I pressed my thumb over his cock head, eliciting a groan from him then a growl the moment I started to stroke him. I knew exactly how Brogan liked to be touched. He craved pain, both delivering and receiving it, so I showed him no mercy.
As I roughly jerked him, he deepened the kiss.
He was all teeth now as he bit at my lips and tongue while his cock grew even harder.
It twitched in my hand and likely throbbed no less than my own that was now pressed against my own zipper.
I intensified my efforts, and once he was close to coming, I yanked my head away.
Our eyes met, and I held his gaze as I squatted down in front of him. “Fuck yes, Declan. Suck it,” he commanded, and a smirk tipped the corner of my lips.
I took his cockhead into my mouth, immediately earning another low growl seconds before he fisted the spiky strands of my hair in his hands.
After letting his cock fall from my lips, I dragged my tongue down every hard inch of his length.
I loved my own cock—from stroking, touching, and fucking with it—but I loved his even more.
And I needed to prove it to him in this moment.
Brogan was going through so much in his life right now, and I was determined to bring him whatever pleasure I could through all of the pain.
He’d done the same for me when I’d needed it before in my life, so I would do it for him now.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
My tongue dragged lower to his balls as I sucked the first one, then the other, into my mouth and laved them with my tongue.
“Don’t tease me right now.”
I released them with a wet pop and grinned up at him. I took the same path back to his cockhead, and this time when my mouth covered it, he pushed my head all the way down until I felt him hit the back of my throat.
Had anyone ever told me that I would be on my knees taking someone’s cock as they fucked my mouth, I would’ve thought they were crazy. But being here with Brogan, and like this, it was the most natural thing in the damn world.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned as I swallowed down on his tip each time he thrust to my throat. “Your mouth feels so good. It—”
A loud gasp pierced the air, and I knew it wasn’t his even before he froze. Brogan pulled away quickly, and my eyes met the girl’s from earlier.
Fuck! She’d returned, and when her shocked gaze left his and met mine, recognition dawned in hers immediately.
“Oh God. Y-you…You’re…” she cried out before slapping a hand over her mouth.