CHAPTER 24
Declan
We lie naked on top of the covers. From the waist up, Summer is draped over my chest, her breasts pressed against me and her fingers play in my landing strip and belly button, venturing dangerously close to the main stage.
From the waist down, Summer’s sprawled out perpendicular to my body, her legs open and her toes facing the window.
We may be at the very tip-top of Las Vegas, but I’m still grateful for the tinted glass.
I don’t want anyone to get a look at that ass. It’s too fabulous to share.
I’ve been brushing my fingertips along Summer’s upper arm, then down her back, then down her spine in the direction of that ass.
I chuckle.
“Something funny?”
“Nope,” I say. “Just thinking about that ass of yours. It’s truly a wonder of the world.”
“From all the riding,” she says.
“You got that right.”
“You know what I’ve been looking at?”
“Tell me.”
“This.” I feel her finger trail from my tattoo, around my hip bone, and yet again venture dangerously close to the main stage. She adjusts her position so that she’s propped up alongside me. But she’s scooted down enough that she has an up-close-and-personal view of my ink.
“I didn’t know you had this one,” she says. “I guess because I’ve never seen all of you until today.”
“And what’s the verdict?”
“Oh, it’s a spectacular tattoo.” She looks up at me, grinning. “The rest of you is pretty good, too, but what do I know, since you’re my first…”
She goes back to tracing her finger along my tattoo.
“I have questions,” she says.
I figured she would. “Where would you like to start?”
“I see the Yosemite brand. But what’s the logo around it? I get the feeling this is a MacLaine thing. Am I right?”
“You mean because it says ‘MacLaine’ right there on the family crest?”
“That’s a crest?”
“It is.”
“There’s a lot goin’ on down here, Declan. Tell me all about it. If you don’t mind, of course.” She props up on her elbow and scoots up closer to my shoulder, which I do appreciate, since it’s kind of weird when your girlfriend talks directly to your junk like that.
I want Summer to be my girlfriend.
Of course I do.
And there it is, folks! All tied up in a neat little bow for the endlessly dense Declan MacLaine to figure out!
I love her. Wanting Summer has been so natural, so much a part of my psyche for so long, that I even found a way to carry her with me—even though, at the time, I had no idea that’s what I was doing.
Dense.
But not anymore.
“Who’s the babe tangled up in flowers and whatever that is—a plaid scarf? She’s really pretty. Should I be jealous?”
Oh, now this is getting good.
I smile at her. It’s a little surprising she doesn’t see it. But I didn’t, did I? And it’s on my body! We both deserve some kind of award for how we’ve tripped over the obvious all these years, ignoring what was right in front of our faces.
That’s some professional-level pigheadedness right there.
I remember the morning I put the pieces together. It was just a couple months after I’d come home for good. My house was being built and I was staying with Dad. I stepped out of the shower, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and it came crashing down on my head like a ton of bricks.
I was shocked at first. Told myself that it couldn’t be. I’m a trained observer. I can detect tiny details others might miss. In source code. In the theater of combat. While flying. So how could I have not seen it?
Expert level.
“You’re not going to tell me who she is?” Summer asks again, examining the woman’s slender perfection, her long, trailing hair, and her beautiful eyes.
Maybe I’ll let her figure it out. I shouldn’t reveal all my juiciest secrets the first time we fall into bed together. What will we talk about fifty years from now? A man’s got to keep a little mystery about him. And anyway, I kind of like that Summer would be jealous of her.
I’ll be interested to see how long it takes for the lightbulb to go off.
“She’s a selkie. Do you know what that is?”
“Like a mermaid, right?”
“Similar, yes. Selkies are mythological creatures of Scottish folklore, half human and half seal, known for their beauty, grace, and sensual nature. Selkies can sometimes symbolize women who struggle to find their place in the world, usually because they’ve been badly hurt.”
She frowns at me. “That’s quite the backstory. You trust a girl with that kind of baggage to juggle your junk in her hands the way she’s doing?”
I laugh. “I absolutely trust her. She’s always had my back—or my front—you know what I mean. But you asked, and I answered, and that’s who she is.”
I trace my finger to where the selkie’s transparent robes and long hair intertwine with the tartan as it wraps around my hip. “This plaid pattern is the MacLaine family tartan, and this is a thistle, the emblem of Scotland, and then the Yosemite brand and family crest.”
“Is this Latin?”
The pad of Summer’s finger lightly brushes along the letters.
“It is. ‘Vincere Vel Mori’ means ‘To Conquer or Die.’”
She nods, frowning. “That’s pretty hardcore. I was about to ask if that’s a MacLaine thing or a SEAL thing, but it’s both, isn’t it?”
“You’re right, Summer. It’s both.”
She catches my eye. “I think I know why you have that tattoo, Declan.”
She doesn’t, of course, but it’s sweet of her to say. She knows me well, but she doesn’t know everything.
“That tattoo is your story, Declan. It’s your heritage, and your biography, I guess. A record of what happened.”
I sit up so suddenly that I almost knock her over. “Say what? Did Finn… what did he tell you? I’m going to strangle that little fucker.”
She sighs and rests a hand on my chest. “Hold on. Don’t be mad at Finn. It wasn’t intentional, and when he realized what he’d done, he made me swear not to tell you because then you’d want to kill him.”
“Damn right, I do.”
“Look, I spend a lot of time working with Finn, you know that. And I think sometimes you boys kind of forget that I’m not one of you, a MacLaine.
Finn mentioned the rescue in passing, like I’d heard the story a hundred times, but when I asked him what he was talking about, he realized his mistake. He was really upset with himself.”
I stare at Summer.
“I guess your tattoo has something to do with that.”
I nod. “It does.”
I’m going to hogtie Finn and throw him in the trunk of Evander’s SUV.
Here they come. The questions that Finn’s carelessness will lead to, the ones I can’t answer.
But Summer simply snuggles up against me and rests her head on my chest. I put my arm around her. I wait. But she doesn’t say anything more about it. I glance down at the top of her shiny head, puzzled.
“Of course, I’m not asking,” she says, sitting up. “I know the rules around your SEAL gigs and your tech company and how none of you can say shit about any of it, including the where or when or why or who. I’ve always known the rules. And anyway, that shit’s not important to me.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“The only thing that’s ever mattered to me is that you made it home safe. You and your brothers. I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved in my life than the day Jamie told me you were all coming home for good.”
I reach for her and crush my mouth to hers. I hardly know what the fuck is happening right now, but I swear it feels like a dam has just burst, and the wall of denial we’ve so carefully laid in the last twelve years is not just being washed away—that sucker’s being pulverized.
And only the simple truth of who we are remains.
Summer.
Me.
Summer and me.
I roll her beneath my body. She throws her legs around my hips and nearly breaks me in half with the power of her thighs.
I’m reaching behind me, flailing around toward the bedside table in an attempt to grab another condom.
And since she’s not letting me go, I have no choice but to take her with me.
She hangs on to me like a monkey, her arms clutched around my neck and her legs like a vise around my ass.
We’re both laughing by the time I get the foil packet.
“You’re a greedy little minx, aren’t you?”
She loosens her grip and falls back onto the bed. I look down at her as I roll on the condom.
I want to tell her everything. How I’m sorry for being so dense. How I love her. How I’ve been in love with her for a long, long time.
I want to tell her that I love everything about her. Her toughness. Her softness. The flushed cheeks, the laughter, her tender mouth. The kind words she has, even for Finn, that little fucker. And the patience she’s managed to hang on to over the last twelve years.
Through the strange jobs I can never discuss. The even stranger family.
That I’m in love with her beauty, grace, and sensual nature, and I’ve been honored to take her with me wherever I go. Someday I’ll tell her all about it.
I crawl over to her and drop my mouth to her hard nipples, feasting on her as she whimpers in pleasure. I love the noises she makes. I love that this is real, that it’s happening.
Finally.
I leave little bites and sucks all over the soft flesh of her tits. I nibble down her ribs. I kiss the flat of her stomach and the silky skin of the rise of her pelvic bone.
I support myself on my elbows and crawl up, propping my body over her. I bring my hands to either side of her pretty face. I want to watch when it happens—the first moment of penetration. I study how her eyes widen, then close, and how she arches her head back against the mattress as I fuck her.
This time, it’s a bit easier for her. This time, I move in and then ease out slowly, gaining a bit more purchase with every advance and retreat. It’s unhurried. The rush builds in small increments as I force her open. I’m gentle but determined, not altering course.
With one last drive, I’m all the way up in her, to the hilt. I feel myself throb inside the satiny heat of her pussy.
My pussy.
Summer gasps. She looks right at me as I fuck her. All the way in and almost all the way out again. I see the pulse pounding in her throat.
She reaches up and caresses my cheek. I see the pleasure course through her.
“You’re mine, Summer,” I tell her. “Mine.”