Page 5 of Declan's Hope

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“I told you so.”

Declan ignored Cal’s chuckled murmur to Haven as he stared down at the back of Hope’s head and held in a groan.

A damned ponytail—a ponytail now swishing between her shoulders as she shook her head and marched away from him. His gaze followed after her tall, curvy form in one of those jumper-dresses and matching tennis shoes she favored—this time an emerald green that complemented her eyes—as she marched over and dragged a resistant Haven back into Cal’s office, with Destiny right behind them. The latter pulled the door shut.

Now all he could think about was taking that ponytail in his fist while hauling her head up for his kiss. The temptation to go after her and do just that rode him hard. But, of course, he didn’t. But now he had another fantasy to add to the rest involving all that thick, wavy, strawberry blond hair. Hair longer than the day he’d first laid binoculars on her—the day he’d known he wanted her for his own. And now it brushed over her heart-shaped ass like a caress when it hung loose.

God, what he wouldn’t do to have her naked with only her hair draped over her. Bits of flushed, creamy flesh would peek through, begging for him to taste and touch. That or have her lying in his custom-made, king-sized bed with it fanned out around her—waiting for him with her arms out—before he blanketed her and buried himself deep in her body’s welcoming warmth.

And now the ponytail…

He’d have it wrapped tight around his wrist so he could pull on it as he took her from behind. Her luscious ass would cushion his hips as he pounded into her until they both came apart.

And now I’m getting hard.

Declan pulled on his jeans legs to relieve the pressure on his dick, then leaned his butt back against the desk behind him. He shouldn’t be surprised. Being hard around Hope wasn’t anything new. During the last seven months, he’d been hard over this woman more times than he could count.

Seven months of frustrating, stolen moments spent in her presence thanks to his unacknowledged accomplice, Haven. And each time, his attraction for Hope had grown from stark want to a deep need he couldn’t deny.

Because she wasn’t only a goddess with a beauty that slayed him, but also everything he could ever want in a woman—smart, big-hearted, loving, and loyal, with enough sass to keep him on his toes. But each time they ended up “accidentally" running into each other, she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

And he wanted to have a lot to do with one Ms. Hope Danford—a whole hell of a lot.

Now one question remained. How to get her to admit she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her?

Because she did.

He’d seen it in the covert, fleeting glances of desire she’d throw his way, and in the blushes spreading into her fair complexion. Of course she generally followed those up with one of the scowls he found so cute. His fingers itched to touch her rosy cheeks at those times to see if they were as warm as they looked.

But it wasn’t only what he thought. Haven had let them know in a roundabout way—without divulging her friend’s confidences—Hope was not disinterested in him, but found him, in Haven’s words, “A bit overwhelming.” He didn’t see that as a bad thing, since he found her overwhelming as well.

“You should wipe away the drool dangling off your beard before she gets back,” Cal said, settling on the desk’s edge beside him. “And tell me again why you decided to grow that thing.”

Declan stroked a hand over his beard as he side-eyed his friend. He’d started growing it on a whim a couple of weeks ago. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Tim character Hope had gone out with had been sporting a dinky Vandyke. Declan’s full beard was what you would call man style. “I think it gives me a distinguished look.”

“Right. But only if I squint really hard.”

“Squint really hard on this,” Declan said, grabbing his crotch.

Cal snickered. “I’d have to squint really hard at that.”

“This again?” The team’s resident linguist, Solace Davidson, appeared around the corner from the hall leading to their bathrooms and break room. “Please tell me you two didn’t bring out a tape measure again.” She wrinkled her nose. “Nobody won that one.”

“We were drunk and it was cold that night,” Declan complained, then grimaced at his teammate as she sat on one of the couches and crossed her long, jeans-clad legs. “Besides how would you know?”

Solace’s lips twitched. “Don’t worry. I didn’t walk in on anything. Thank god. But Garrett was happy to tell me all about it the next morning,” she said with a broad, toothy grin.

“Tell you all about what?” Garrett Wallace sauntered into the room from the same hallway. The computer genius and team’s communications expert paused and frowned as he glanced at Cal’s closed office door where the low murmur of feminine voices emanated.

“The great dick debate,” Solace provided on a chuckle.

“We never actually whipped them out,” Cal said, a red flush filling in the spaces between his freckles and rising to his gingery hairline.

“No,” Garrett said, distractedly. “You didn’t. And I for one am grateful.” He lowered his voice as he focused on Declan. “Is Destiny in there?”

He nodded. “With Haven and Hope. I’m sure Hope’s giving Haven the riot act for not warning her I was here.”

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