Page 67 of Declan

And how much I want him to.

The bass thumps through the floor and into my bones, the crowd packed tighter as the night rolls on. Lights flash. Laughter rises. Drinks flow freely. The heat in the room thickens, but none of that has my full attention.

Declan’s eyes are locked on me like he knows exactly what he does to me. Like he enjoys watching me try to keep my shit together when all I want to do is walk over there, grab him by the collar, and taste that smug mouth of his.

He doesn’t look away. Not once. Even as Hux and the others start talking to the bartender, Declan's body is angled toward me, his attention laser-focused.

It’s like foreplay without a single touch.

I pretend to focus on Vivianne and Jeanne, who are still dancing like they’re living their best lives. But my body’s already humming with the need to move to get closer. My skin prickles with awareness. My pulse is ridiculous. I feel like I’m burning up and chilled all at once.

Declan turns his attention to Lex, another member, slow and unhurried, like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does.

I take the moment to turn away, heading toward the bathrooms. I need a second to breathe. To calm the hell down. He’s already got too much power over me, and we’ve barely spoken tonight.

The bathroom’s mercifully empty when I step inside. Cool, dim lighting and the faint buzz of a neon fixture overhead.

I lean on the sink, grip the edge, and stare at my flushed reflection in the mirror.

“Jesus,” I whisper, trying to gather myself.

And then I hear the door open behind me.

The soft click of the lock being thrown sends a bolt of anticipation down my spine.

I don’t even have to look.

Declan’s reflection fills the mirror behind me, dark eyes locked on mine as he moves toward me like a storm rolling in. A storm that’s inevitable and unstoppable.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” I say, voice breathless, betraying my own need.

“You think I care?” His voice is low, rough, already dragging shivers down my spine.

He stops right behind me, hands bracing the counter on either side of mine, caging me in without touching me. His body heat seeps into mine. His breath fans against my neck.

“I didn’t invite you here just for Killer,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I promised you the entire weekend, and I couldn’t wait until I got home later. I needed to see you, even if I couldn’t touch you.”

I swallow hard, every nerve on edge, strung tight between need and restraint. “You’ve got this whole intense thing going on, you know that?”

He chuckles softly, but there’s hunger in it. “I only get like this with you.”

I turn in the cage of his arms, heart pounding, and find myself face to face with everything I’ve been trying to resist. His dark eyes search mine, lingering on my lips before dragging slowly back up.

“I’ve been watching you all night,” he says. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

“Then do something about it.”

That’s all it takes.

His mouth crashes down on mine, all heat and desperation and want. I moan against him as his hands grip my hips, lifting me just enough to settle me against the counter. The kiss deepens, hungry and raw, the kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for permission. It claims you.

I thread my fingers into his hair, tugging him closer, needing more. He tastes like whiskey and sin and everything I crave but shouldn’t.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless, lips swollen, heart racing.

“Now we’re even,” I say, trying to find a shred of sanity.

Declan chuckles, brushing his fingers down my jaw. “Not even close.”

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