CHAPTER 66
Summer
We leave the prison in Declan’s rented SUV. I don’t look back at the complex. There’s no point.
All this ugliness and pain has nothing to do with me, and I will never be coming back.
We walk hand in hand into the diner, and Mary, the nice waitress I’ve gotten to know over the last few days, smiles when she sees me. She takes us to a booth by the window.
“Well, who do we have here, honey?” she asks.
“Mary, this is my husband, Declan. Declan, this is Mary.”
When she gets a good look at him, the poor woman morphs into Bambi in the high beams. Declan is only being his usual kind and charming self, but I get it. He’s an exceptional man, in every way, but he’s so good-looking that women sometimes forget what they were saying.
I have no idea how I wandered into this spectacular life of mine, this one-in-a-million kind of love. Or why I got so damn lucky. I’m just grateful that I did.
I’m infinitely proud of the man my husband is. And I love him so much that I’m tearing up just watching him have a normal, everyday chat with Mary, because that man over there is mine.
He did not let me go. I’m worth that much to him.
“You okay, honey?”
I catch myself and quickly look at the menu. “It’s a shame it’s not meatloaf special day, since I know Declan would love it.”
“It’s not our special but we still have it.”
I look up. “You do?”
“Honey, there’d be a riot in this town if we didn’t offer it every day.”
I close my menu and nod to Declan that I got this. “Then we’ll have two meatloaf not-specials and two chocolate milkshakes, thank you,” I say.
When Mary’s gone, Declan reaches over and grabs my hand. He stares at me, like he can’t believe I’m real. Then he grins. “I see you’re wearing your deluxe-wedding-package, gold-plated ring.”
“I am,” I acknowledge.
Then he lifts his left hand and wiggles his fingers. “So am I.”
“I’m glad.” And I really am.
We chat about a lot of things, but he isn’t asking me about what happened in the prison. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it, but I can see the bone-deep exhaustion in his eyes. He’s been crushed by worry—worry that I made him carry. He probably hasn’t had much sleep in the last few days.
Running off was a shitty thing to do to him.
I ask him how they tracked me down, and I think he’s enjoying giving me the play-by-play. But I look around to see that the place is starting to get crowded and I’m not sure he should be telling me all this.
“Stop,” I tell him, lowering my voice. “Are you sure it’s okay to tell me about all the hacking you did? I thought you couldn’t talk about your work.”
He grins. “It wasn’t for work. It was for you.”
He assures me that the new kayak I used for my getaway was found undamaged and that Special K has already retrieved it.
I’m glad to hear that, since I know that thing cost a fortune.
Then he tells me about Jasmine’s boss-lady phone call, and it cracks me up.
But hearing how everyone at the ranch is losing their shit without me is too much.
I almost cry. But I’m rescued by the meatloaf. And it’s delicious. Declan is a big fan.
We walk next door to the motel, and I let Declan inside. There’s really no maid service here, so it’s a mess, but Declan doesn’t mind.
I want him. He wants me. But I rest my palm on his chest.
“I need a scalding hot shower. I don’t want to be carrying around the stink of that place when I’m with you.”
I walk into the bathroom and turn around when I notice he’s not following me.
“Coming?”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone.” He says it in a way that makes it obvious he doesn’t know what end is up or what’s coming next.
I reach out my hand to him. He joins me in front of the big mirror, and we strip off each other’s clothes. It’s not the world’s largest shower, and he’s a MacLaine, so there’s no room for acrobatics in here even if we were up for it.
We aren’t. We’re both exhausted.
So we simply stand under the hot water, holding each other tightly as the steam rises around us. I run my hands over the slick muscles of his back, shoulders, and arms and then squeeze him as tight as I can.
I lean into him. I let him hold me up, carry my weight. Not because I’m too weak to stand on my own, but because I know it makes him happy to do this. Declan loves protecting me, and he needs to know that he can.
And now, after all those years of resistance, I’m okay with it. In fact, I love it. Because I love him.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say.
“That’s never smart.”
“I was thinking that I should get a tattoo to complement Selkie the Junk Juggler.”
“Oooh. I like that idea. Let’s brainstorm on designs. I’ve already thought of a great one.”
My cheek presses against him as I smile.
“It has to be something that reflects the true man I am.”
“Of course.” I already know what he’s going to say.
“A giant Mantis overlord.”
Ding, ding, ding! I was right. “Any other options? Oh, and where on my body is this tattoo going?”
“Right over the smooth porpoise.”
I laugh into his wet skin. “It won’t stay that way much longer, unless I return to the torture chamber.”
“Don’t do it on my account. I don’t care about the wrapper. All I want is the taco.”
We both laugh this time.
“How about you in your Vegas beer bong hat?”
“That would be fine art right there.”
I release my grasp of him and pull back, looking up. He’s looking down on me.
“I love you with all my heart, Declan.”
He nods. Water drips from his black curls.
“I’ve put you through hell and I’m sorry. No more running. I will never hurt you again.”
He smiles sadly. “Please don’t. I know I’m a badass, but I couldn’t take it.”
“Never again. You have my promise.”
He leans down and gives me a gentle kiss.
We soap up, rinse, and towel each other off. Then Declan lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed, carefully lays me down, and joins me.
We hang on tight to one another, and I think we both fall asleep almost instantly. I know I do. But I’m woken up by a hungry bear.
Hungry for me.
Declan still cradles me in his arms. He’s leaving tender kisses down the side of my neck, in the hollow of my throat, and along my collarbones. His lips feel so soft and loving, and I relax into the bliss of his mouth brushing against my skin.
His big cock is nudging up against my belly and I throw a thigh over his hip.
Declan rolls me under him and props himself on his elbows. I can see his expression in the dim bathroom light. He’s looking at me with relief and love. I push a lock of his black hair away from his face.
He drops his mouth to mine. I’ll never get over how a man this big and powerful can be so tender with me, so willing to let me see who he is.
Declan rises up, scoops an arm under, and slides me toward the foot of the king-sized bed. I’m just about to run my hands all over his chiseled body when he lifts both my arms over my head and pins my hands to the mattress with one large palm.
I gasp.
He smiles down at me.
“Wrap yourself around me, my pretty wife,” he says.
I do. I lift my legs and press both calves against his muscular ass, then press him into me. We lock on to each other, looking into one another’s eyes as he slides inside me in one steady, slow go. I moan. This feels so good. He feels so good inside me.
Declan fills me up.
I don’t look away and I don’t close my eyes. I stay with him, getting lost in the intense violet black of his gaze. He’s so serious, so focused as he starts to move slowly inside me, pulling out a bit and pushing back in.
I move with him. Open to him. My body knows what to do. It has since the first day he touched me, and I gave myself to him. Waiting for Declan is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
He’s the beginning and the end for me.
His hard abdomen kisses my belly with each thrust. The way he’s taking me feels luxurious, unhurried, the kind of silky, sensual skin-on-skin comfort that only my husband can provide.
Declan adjusts, rearranges my hands so that my elbows bend, and my hands rest palm up next to my head. He links his fingers tight with mine and rests on his elbows to hover over me.
He’s invading me, everywhere, my body, my heart. His gaze bores into me as deeply as his cock does. I told him there’d be no more running. I think this is his way of sealing the deal.
I arch up into him, ripples of heat pouring through me.
“Cum for me, Summer. I want to feel you cum all over me. But don’t close your eyes—stay with me. I want to watch.”
I explode. I shudder and cry out while Declan continues to take me in languid, deep strokes, not letting up. I keep my eyes open, cumming too many times to keep track, pinned under the weight of his gaze and his body.
“I love you so much,” I tell him, my voice shaky.
“I know you do. I love you.”
It’s happening again. I’m cumming. He joins me this time, and we fall hard and fast over the edge.
We go together.