15. Declan
DECLAN
I kiss her softly at first but quickly deepen it as she moans against my mouth and parts her lips.
Our tongues meet, and her flavor explodes on my taste buds like I just took a sip of the most decadent dessert wine.
My other hand comes up to cup her head, holding her in place as I walk her back to the porch steps.
One of her hands slides into my hair as she steps up onto the bottom step, putting her at a better height for us to press closer. With this added height, she is able to arch against me, and I relish the feel of her breasts against my chest and her hips pressing into mine.
“Declan,” she says with a little whimper, and her fingers tighten in my hair.
Fuck, I love that. “Right here. Not going anywhere.”
She licks along my bottom lip, and fire shoots through my veins.
“Okay, maybe inside,” I murmur, nudging her up the steps. I need a firm surface to press her against. Immediately.
She steps up, but her heel catches on the third step, and she stumbles. My hands drop to her hips, steadying her. I also have to pull my mouth from hers.
“I hate these damned steps,” I say.
“Of course you do. They’re not perfect,” she says, her mouth tipped up at the corner.
“They’re definitely not,” I agree. The third is at least two inches higher than the rest, and the fifth is somehow shorter, and they’re all crooked.
“But you still managed to get into my house and into my business.”
I nod. “I absolutely did. No apologies.”
She laughs softly. “I’m shocked.”
I grip her hips a little tighter. “And I want to be inside your house again tonight.”
Her pupils dilate, and she steps up the next step, not missing it this time. I follow.
We make it to the porch, and as I step onto it, the floorboard creaks menacingly.
This fucking porch…
She bends to retrieve the key from under the otter statue, and my hand slides over the curve of her ass.
She freezes. I freeze.
The curve fits perfectly in my palm.
Suddenly she spins and presses against me, her arms around my neck, her mouth on mine again.
I put both of my hands on her ass, pulling her up against me firmly, letting her feel that I’m hard for her and that we fit perfectly against each other in more places than one.
She shivers in my arms, and acting on instinct more than an actual plan, I pull her toward the porch railing, intending to at least use it for some leverage so I can feel her more fully.
“Dec,” she breathes against my lips.
No one calls me that. I’m not that casual with anyone. When I was growing up, my brothers and sister would, but it’s been a long time.
Now, hearing it from Astrid, my entire body is on fire.
“Anything you want,” I tell her, meaning it from the very bottom of my soul.
I will do absolutely anything she wants or needs me to do. But I need her against me. Right now.
I back up to the railing and lean back, settling my ass against the top and pulling her between my knees. She leans in, seemingly just as eager to get our bodies aligned.
I just register how fucking good she feels and realize that she must be acutely aware of how she is affecting me, my cock pressing hard and full against her stomach, when I hear a crack and feel my body shift left.
She gasps, and one hand moves to grip the railing next to me.
Then the railing gives, my weight shifts again, and I jerk forward instinctively.
Because I had my weight fully settled back and Astrid was leaning into me, my hand flies up to grab for the post to my right while my left foot shoots back to try to find firm ground.
My foot slips off the edge of the porch as the railing breaks away.
To keep her from falling off the porch, I push Astrid away from me. She stumbles back, her head banging into the wind chimes hanging next to her front door. The clanging mixes with my cursing as I barely regain my balance instead of pitching off the edge of the porch into the vegetation below.
She gasps. “Oh my God, Declan, are you all right?”
I catch my breath. “Yes. Are you okay?”
She nods, stepping away from the wind chimes. “Yes. I should’ve warned you about the porch railing.”
“You knew it would break?”
“Well, I knew it wasn’t very stable.” She steps forward. “You…distracted me.”
I smile and step forward to cup her face. “I’m glad. I guess. That seems hazardous around here, though.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and nods. “Sorry about that. I don’t think anyone’s done anything to maintain this porch the entire time the house has been here. And it’s pretty old.”
“I don’t like you having a porch that’s falling apart. Or anything that’s falling apart.”
“It’s not like I’m having porch parties. I know the spots to step around and which step is uneven.” She gives me a look from beneath her lashes that is sweet, adorable, and sexy all at once. “Usually anyway.”
I can’t help it. I have to kiss her again.
I cup the back of her head and lower my mouth.
She immediately responds, lifting on tiptoe, and pressing her mouth fully against mine.
Our tongues are stroking, my other hand is back on her ass, her hands are gripping my shoulders as I back her up against the side of the house.
But then I shift slightly to the right and step on a loose floorboard. Not only does it pop up, but it happens to be the one underneath the otter statue. The statue tips over and falls with a dull thud as the floorboard shifts, slightly twisting my ankle.
I jerk my head up. “Goddamnit.”
Astrid looks at the statue, then at my foot, then up at me. She wrinkles her nose. “Sorry again.”
“I’m not upset about the bodily harm. I’m upset that your porch is cockblocking me.”
Evidently, my use of the term ‘cockblocking’ surprises her because she lets out a quick puff of air and laughs. “Yeah. I didn’t expect that.”
“The rickety porch to be a problem?”
“Us to be doing this.”
I sift my fingers through her hair. “Well, that is very unfortunate. I should’ve spent the entire past twenty months letting you know how much I wanted to do this.”
She presses her lips together, then lets out a breath. “Things haven’t been very traditional between us.”
“But at least we know the attraction is real.”
“Yes.” She suddenly swallows hard. “It is.”
I look toward the door, then back to her. “So we should—”
I’m about to suggest that we should go inside and continue, but she looks down at the porch. “My otter’s arm is broken.”
I look down at the statue, and sure enough, one of the arms is lying next to it, detached.
“Oh shit. What happens when these otters get damaged? Do we need to hide the evidence and fix it ourselves without anyone knowing?”
She shakes her head with a small smile. “We’ll take him to the otter doctor.”
“A veterinarian?” It would not surprise me if the vet here in Rebel also fixed animal statues.
Her laugh is louder. “Well, yes, there are those. But there’s also someone who fixes the statues. Obviously, things like this happen sometimes.”
“Thank God. I didn’t want to be cursed.”
Her smile fades as she studies my face. “We should probably take this slow.”
She’s right. Of course. But I do not want to take it slow. “Haven’t we been taking it slow?” I ask.
She nods. “I guess in some ways. It has been over a year.”
I take a deep breath, then step back, dropping my hands from her body.
“We can take the physical stuff slow. Of course. We’re not going to do anything you’re not ready for.
That you don’t want. Ever,” I say, emphasizing the last word.
“But I need you to know that I want you. In every way. And I’m here now. ”
“It’s only been a day.”
“But again, it’s also been twenty months. I’m done giving you space, being a long-distance husband. I know this seems fast, but I have been caring about you and falling for you over the past twenty months. So now that I’m here, this might feel fast. But it’s not.”
I don’t think she’s breathing at this point. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted.
But the look in her eyes is not one of panic, or shock, or disgust, or fear.
She looks almost hopeful. And excited.
“Falling for me?” she asks softly.
“I am an extremely intelligent man, Astrid,” I tell her. “I have met thousands of people. Traveled extensively. Done a million interesting things. Being inside your orbit, even the distant orbit, of course I’m falling for you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that a good oh?”
“It’s an I-wasn’t-expecting-that oh.”
I surprised her. I like that. And I think I’m going to leave it at that for tonight.
I step to the front door and dig in my pocket for the key that I confiscated from underneath the otter. I unlock the door, push it open, and then step back for her to precede me.
She steps across the threshold, and I scoop up the otter statue and his broken arm. Can’t leave an injured animal outside on the porch, after all.
I shut and lock the door, then follow her through the living room lit only by the gaudy flowered lamp on the end table by the couch.
I put the otter on the kitchen table and watch as she crosses to one of the drawers and rummages inside.
I set the front door key on the table. “Here’s the key to—” I break off when I see what she pulls from the drawer.
I am immediately next to her, frowning, taking the small box from her.
“Why do you need a first aid kit?” I demand.
Her eyes are wide when she lifts her hand. “I have a splinter. No big deal.”
I grasp her wrist and bring her hand up to inspect it. There’s a small splinter in the heel of her hand. “How?”
“From the railing.” She sighs. “I grabbed it when we almost fell.”
“That fucking porch,” I swear.
“I’m fine. It’s no big deal.”
I don’t respond directly to that. I grasp her waist and lift her up onto the counter.
She gasps, but I ignore whatever indignation she might try to hit me with.
“Patty could fall through the floorboards. Wilson could trip up the steps.” I open the first aid box and start tossing aside items I don’t need. “What if Oscar gets out and gets a splinter in his paw?”