Page 50 of Trouble

This time Declan does glance at the phone, but an instant later, he’s got me caught in his snare again. “If she says red, we stop everything. Good or bad, you say red, we end it.”

Good or bad what? Once again, I’m too eager to get started to bother asking for clarification. I know to say stop, and that’s enough for me. Everything else? I’m elated at the knowledge that any of it is even on the table.

“Most basic designs use a simple knot called the single column tie.” Declan uncoils the rope and lets it dangle in front of him so we can watch as he slowly demonstrates the steps and then ties it off, creating what quite literally looks like a column.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I angle forward, studying each step as he does it again. With each knot he makes with the rope, his breathing eases, and the tension in his posture and in his expression dissipates.

“How did you learn this?” I ask, watching him work.

His cheeks are pink above his scruff as he peers over at me. “YouTube videos, books. There’s a lot of information out there. If you can sort out the more kink-based things and narrow it down to technique, there’s not a ton, but Shawn helped me find stuff to help with my anxiety.”

On the phone screen, Cade is wearing a perplexed frown. It’s clearly all new information for him. Now is not the time to get Declan to open up to Cade, but eventually?—

“Would you like me to try it on you?” Declan asks, cutting off my thoughts.

“Yes, sir.”

He lets out a low, pleased hum inresponse. He’s focused on undoing the knots he’s created, but there’s no denying someone is watching me. I turn to Cade and find him leaning forward, looking from me to Declan and back again. As if my answer pleases him even more than it pleases Declan. He’s fixated on me now, his gaze intoxicating.

The heat in my core simmers on low, bolstering my courage. “Should I remove my clothing?”

It’s a mechanical way to ask, but I can’t help but wonder if it’ll make things easier for Declan.

He peers at me through his lashes again, as if I surprised him. Then his lips twitch and tip up in a cocky smirk. “No.”

“No?” Disappointment washes over me. The hunger I feel for this man is unreal.

He kneels in front of me, pushing my knees wide with his sturdy body, and brushes back a lock of hair that has fallen out of my messy bun. With each long, steady exhale, his minty breath skates across my skin, sending goose bumps prickling over my chest and down my spine. From this close, I can count his black lashes as they flutter. Feel the rapid beat of his pulse. When he swallows, I’m fixated on the way his throat works. Blinking, I drag my gaze up to his face and settle on his lips.

He’s mesmerizing.

A tantalizing dichotomy of a man. To the world at large, he’s hard, rough. Yet with me, he’s soft. Kneeling atmyfeet.

“OnlyIundress you.” His fingers dance across my jaw and down my neck, sending sparks flying in their wake. “Itake care of you.” He slips a thumb beneath the strap of my camisole and tugs. “Iplease you.”

Dipping my chin, I watch as he slips the strap down my arm.

It’s barely a touch, barely a caress, and yet the gratification it gives me is enough to have me sucking in a breath like he just sank inside me.

He does the same thing on the other side, his tongue swiping at his lip as if he’s trying not to dip down and lick me. God, do I want him to.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” That simple, strained phrase reminds me that we’re not alone. Cade is watching the way he touches me too. He’s moved even closer to his screen, as if he’s desperate to dive through it. His pupils are blown out, and by the way he shifts, it’s clear he’s adjusting himself. He’s turned on.

I understand it, because I feel it too. I’m so wet I’m going to embarrass myself if Declan truly does undress me. He’ll see the evidence of what he does to me.

I think I want him to.

Ghosting his fingers over my forearms, Declan garners my attention again. “Give me a color.”

“Green.”

Lips curling up, he slips his hands down my arms and over the fabric that covers my belly. “Lift your arms.”

I obey, and he gently pulls the camisole over my head. He doesn’t throw it like I imagine Cade would, desperate to focus on my breasts, which are now practically in his face. No, Declan folds the shirt and then places it on the cushion next to me. His movements are slow and deliberate. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he returns his focus to me, his eyes locked with mine, and pushes back so he’s balancing on his toes, his knees no longer on the ground. He brings his right hand to my ankle and squeezes, then slips it up my inner calf. “Still green?”

“Yes,” I whisper, though it comes out more like a plea.

The smile Declan gives me isn’t big, but it’s full of satisfaction.

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