CHAPTER 29
Summer
“Hey, folks!” Declan greets his entire family in his normal happy-go-lucky way. I try to smile next to him, but I’m a terrible liar, and I just know one of them is going to figure me out.
Everyone’s on the call except for Jasmine and, of course, Evander and Phoebe. I see Jamie, Phyllis, Cal and Victoria, Finn and Emma, and a bored-looking Special K.
Phyllis in particular is studying me. She has the most advanced bullshit radar of any human being I’ve ever known. I take a step to the side to half-hide behind Declan.
“Hey, bonehead,” Cal growls. “Evander gave you the slip.”
“I’ve tracked him down by hacking into his shaver,” Finn tells Declan.
“He’s in Mexico,” Jamie says.
“Honduras,” Victoria corrects him.
“Can you fly to Honduras?” Phyllis asks.
“If they’re eloping, they probably already did it,” Emma says.
“Just forget it,” Cal grumbles.
“Forget what?” Declan jokes.
“We’ll talk when you get back,” Jamie says. “Anything new with you, Summer?”
“Uh.” I grab the phone and throw it into the street.
Declan and I watch as a stretch limo runs it over.
“Good thinking,” he says looking at the flattened phone.
“I might have panicked.”
“Let’s go back to the hotel and regroup before we fly home. I think we need some breathing space between the shocks,” he says.
“I would say we need a drink, but I don’t think we should ever drink again.”
We hold hands on our walk back to the SUV, and Declan opens the door for me. I crank up the air in the SUV as Declan takes the long way back to the hotel. We ride in complete silence.
I’m lecturing myself for going off on him like I did. I know he’s sitting over there thinking I’m a head case.
When we arrive, he hands the key fob to the valet, and we walk into the hotel, defeated.
We take the elevator to our floor, and Declan unlocks the door to our suite. The maid has been there, and it’s nice to not have to see the bed messed up from our lovemaking and Cheeto frenzy.
If that’s what it was. Lovemaking.
Declan goes into the kitchen to raid the fully stocked refrigerator. “You want a Toblerone? Salted almonds? A banana?”
“Almonds.”
“Good, because I plan on going full Toblerone.”
I turn on the television to a football game, and Declan tosses me the pack of almonds.
“Oh, hell no. It’s a Cowboys game,” I complain, taking a seat on the couch.
Declan sits next to me. “Gods among men, the Cowboys.”
“I can’t understand why you’re a Cowboys fan. You’re such a traitor.”
“I respect talent. And those cheerleaders are unnaturally talented.”
I toss an almond at Declan’s head. “So typical.”
“Hey, I’m nothing if not dependable.”
I laugh and feel a wave of relief to feel normal again. This kind of banter between us is normal. There’s no undercurrent of embarrassment or shyness or another sexual detonation.
I scoot next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. He puts his feet up on the ottoman and crosses his legs at the ankles. We watch the game for about fifteen minutes before Declan begins to stroke my hair.
I close my eyes, reveling in his touch. “Are you hungry?” I ask him.
“We just ate and followed it up with a snack. But you know me—I’m always hungry. Arguing with you has always been the ultimate appetizer.”
“What are you hungry for?”
“You. I’m hungry for more of you.”
I look up at him. He’s looking down at me with a lopsided grin.
“I guess I could be convinced.”
“Yeah? What will it take?”
“I don’t know. You might have to spank me. You know, to get me to warm up to the idea.”
“Spank you?” His eyes go dark and one dark eyebrow arches high. “You want me to warm you up by spanking you? Did I hear that right?”
I sit up, feeling a little awkward. I was joking around. At least I think I was. “It was just an idea.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you get that idea?”
“From you.”
“When did I say it would be good to spank you?”
“When we were bickering in the restroom alcove at Leon’s Rock or whatever it’s called.”
“Rock Leonne.”
“That place. You don’t remember what you said about spanking?”
“What did I say?”
“You said, ‘I should put you over my knee and spank you.’”
“I said I wanted to spank you? What did you say?”
“I said, ‘I’d like to see you try it, big boy.’ And then you got this evil glint in your eye. Like you actually wanted to spank me. Like you thought spanking me would be fun.”
He cocks his head, scrunches his brows in concentration, and goes, “Spanking, though? Really?” like he can’t quite picture it.
That’s when I finally realize what’s going on. “Hilarious, Declan. Did you enjoy that? Was it entertaining for you to hear me repeat the whole exchange? Did you count how many times I said ‘spank’ or ‘spanking’?”
“Seven times for you. Five for me. Which makes twelve altogether, so, yeah, it was pretty great.”
I shake my head.
I’m grabbed around the waist, lifted up, and bent over his knee. I’m suddenly staring down at the geometric pattern of the suite’s expensive area rug.
He slides a hand between my denim-covered legs and cups his palm against the outline of my pussy. I start to pant. I hear myself make a few little squeaks of apprehension, which only makes him laugh.
Then he begins to caress my ass and upper thighs with his big hand. He’s lulling me into some kind of strange, sexual trance. I feel myself relax. Until he slips a finger beneath the back of the waistband of my new jeans.
My skin feels so tender to the touch. Too hot.
Too sensitive, like I’m a live wire. Declan traces that finger around to the front of my pants, where he unbuttons the waistband and unzips the zipper.
I feel his hot palm cup the bare flesh of my pussy, and then he crooks a finger and runs it up the seam of me.
I hiss.
“You like this, don’t you?”
I know it’s rude not to answer, but I’m a bit stunned.
“You like this a lot.”
I begin wiggling my ass. It’s a reflex to get his finger deeper inside me or to feel his hand move all over me or both. I wonder if something’s wrong with me. Maybe I like sex too much.
Sex with Declan.
“Take a breath,” he whispers. I’m about to sit up and cuss him out when he presses me back down and holds me in place with a firm hand. “I know it has a deeper meaning now that you’re my wife, but I thought you liked it deep, Summer.”
“Okay,” I squeak.
He laughs again. He’s having way too much fun. But that’s okay, because I am, too. Can a person get too turned on? What happens in that situation?
And then, without warning, my jeans are tugged down off my ass.
Before I can even register that development, Declan’s hand meets my ass cheeks with such force that a crack!
echoes through the room. Heat immediately spreads over my flesh.
Everywhere. Ev. Ery. Where. My nipples. My lips. And especially between my legs.
His hand comes down again.
My back arches. I gasp.
Again.
I suck air through my teeth. I squirm and kick my feet.
Then I feel his hot palm gently caress away the sting, knead my flesh with tender care. I feel his mouth drop to the small of my back, where he leaves a string of kisses. I relax so much into his gentle touch that I go kind of floppy. I let my arms hang loose and I close my eyes and sigh.
Then he spanks me again, slips a finger underneath my belly and touches me directly on my clit.
I almost shoot to the ceiling.
He’s laughing again.
I feel his big cock jab into my belly. He’s as hard as marble.
I’ve created a monster.
Or maybe he has.
Oh, fuck, this is great.