Page 91 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Two

Declan

Goddamn it. I hadn’t meant to say any of that, especially now, but I couldn’t let her walk away from me thinking she’d done something wrong, that she didn’t deserve to be worshipped.

She was the best of everything in this world and if anyone should feel unworthy, it was me. The fact that I’d made her feel the opposite was unacceptable. That’s why I’d said what I had even though my gut churned with dread and I wished I could take it all back. Un-say it. Keep that confession pushed deep down inside of me where I kept all of my emotions locked away from the light of day.

Because whatever this was between us? It was a limited time deal. I had no business getting caught up in her, wanting more than a few stolen moments before she packed her bags and flew home to America. Before the Six Nations took up all my time, energy, and focus.

Rugby is my life, I tried reminding myself. There’s no room for anything more than that. Any one, I amended staunchly.

Even as that thought came and went, I pictured Sophie sitting in the stands at Lansdowne, a green jersey stretched tight across her chest, those luscious tits I wanted to spend hours feasting on bouncing up and down as she cheered for me. But the tournament didn’t start until February and she’d be long gone by then.

I’d always known we had a firm expiration date. Fuck, we’d both known it, and yet when I held her in my arms, my cock sheathed by her pussy, I’d had this insane moment where I wanted to be inside of her always. It was complete rubbish but that hadn’t stopped me from feeling, for a brief second, that Sophie felt like home.

Shit, fuck, arse!

When the look on her face morphed from panic to skepticism and then to what looked a lot like pity, I pressed on. Only this time, I attempted to walk my confession back.

“Listen, just ignore me. I don’t know what I’m talking about,” I said, trying to muster a smile but the gesture wouldn’t stick. My heart wasn’t in it, didn’t care to play along.

To my shock, Sophie crossed the room and dropped to her knees in front of me. Resting her hands on my thighs, she leaned forward and placed a tender, gentle kiss to my lips, our mouths barely touching. Sitting back on her heels, she examined my face for a few heartbeats.

“It’s okay Declan,” she whispered into the air that separated us. “I feel it too—” she swallowed “—and it terrifies me.”

I let out a breath and slid my hands across her shoulders, lacing my fingers behind her neck.

“I don’t deserve you,” I confessed. Then—more somberly—added, “This a bad idea, Sophie.”

She nodded. “It is.”

I swallowed, then laid out all the reasons why, since it seemed we both needed convincing.

“I have zero time for a relationship and you’re leaving soon so even if I did have time, you’re pretty much already gone.”

“Yup. Gone,” she agreed.

“And yet …” I continued, rubbing the pads of my thumbs in small circles over the nape of her neck, afraid to give voice to the thoughts swirling in my head.

“And yet?”

I pulled Sophie close and dropped a kiss on her forehead, another on the tip of her nose, then still more over her full, rosy lips.

“And yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to stop thinking about you. You’ve got me tied up in knots Sophie, and I don’t want to unravel them.”

“Then don’t.” She cupped my face and kissed me softly, slowly, like she was savoring the moment. “Let’s get tangled up in each other,” she whispered as she trailed her lips along my jaw and into the crook of my neck where she nibbled, sending a rush of adrenaline through my body.

I wanted to undress her and bury my face between her thighs again, taste and tease her until she whimpered and soaked my face with her passion, but I held back. Against all my instincts, I nudged her away so we could talk. So we could figure out how to move forward. Because one way or another, Sophie would be mine.

“Declan?” she asked, confusion clouding her eyes.

I ran my hands down her arms until I reached her delicate wrists and felt the rapid beat of her pulse against my fingertips.

“I know,” I responded mirthlessly, shaking my head. “Believe me, I’m as surprised as you are … but we need to talk about this.” I squeezed her hands in mine. “As shocking as this might sound, I want more than a few weekends with you.”

Sophie rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, something she did when she was nervous or thinking. Or in this case, nervously thinking.

“I want to give this a real shot,” I continued.

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