I’m desperate for more of him—all of him.
“Declan,” I whine, my eyes rolling back.
“You’re so perfect, Hailey. Such a good girl letting me dry hump the fuck out of you. Do you like the way it feels, sweetheart? I’m so hard for you. Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”
“Yes,” I moan. “I want more, Declan. I want all of you. I want you inside of me.”
“I want that too, sweetheart. I want nothing more than to have this tight little cunt soaking and milking my dick. I’m going to make you feel so good.”
Holy shit.
His words send a jolt of arousal through me, and the telltale signs of an orgasm building tingle. Catching my lips again, Declan kisses me, and it’s as desperate as I feel. Full of teeth clashing and heavy moans peppering through every stroke of our tongues. His hips never stop moving, thrusting and rocking against me so intensely, all I can do is squeeze my legs around him tighter and free-fall when my orgasm crashes into me.
Crying out his name, I toss my head back, stars overtaking my vision. He releases my wrist and moves his hand to my hair, pulling my head back to him and catching every whimper and moan I give him through my climax. His hips work in time with my incoherent chants, and seconds later, he grunts long and hard, his head falling to my shoulder.
It takes several minutes for us to catch our breath. My legs stay wrapped around Declan’s hips, my hand on his shoulder as he keeps his head on mine.
“You’re absolutely perfect. Trust me when I say that the moment we’re truly alone, I’m going to worship your body, sweetheart. I’ll take my time with you and give you everything you deserve.”
I lean back to look at him, and he lifts his head. His eyes sparkle, and with a quick glance down, I notice his sweatpants are saturated near the waistband from his release, and pride blooms in my chest.
Idid that. He wants me just as badly as I want him.
But I still have doubts. There will be so much working against us if we give this a chance, the biggest thing being Sailor. If Declan and I don’t work out, how could I still be her nanny? Losing them would be devastating…
But not giving us a chance would be even more soul-crushing.
When our eyes meet, I ask, “You’re sure about this? What about?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. I’ve lied to myself for months about not wanting you, and I’m done. We’ll figure it out as we go. This is just the beginning for us.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The planes that were chartered for the team to go home were smaller than the ones we arrived on, so Sailor and I flew commercial. Despite Declan’s protests of staying with us, I convinced him to go with the team and that we’d be fine. Little did I know we’d be delayed until the turn of the century, but it was fine. Sailor and I enjoyed some nachos in the airport, watched a couple of movies on her tablet, and shopped in just about every store they had.
Holding her hand, we get off the plane and are assaulted by the Ridgewood airport’s air conditioning as we step into our gate.
“I’m so sorry.” Declan rushes to us the second he sees us in baggage claim, pulling Sailor up into his arms. Her hand slips from mine as he hugs her tightly.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he sets her back down and immediately pulls me into a tight hug, which surprises me, but is more than welcome. Wrapping my arms around him, I nuzzle my face against his chest and inhale his scent.
“It’s not your fault.” I let go of him and readjust my purse. “Thanks for picking us up.”
“Of course.” Declan’s phone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, brows furrowing as he looks down at the screen. Ignoring the call, he shoves it back into his pants, then grabs Sailor's hand, and surprises me again when he reaches down to lace our fingers together too, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Are you girls hungry? I brought snacks for the car, but dinner is ready at home.”
Snacks and dinner made? Who is this man?
“I’m starving,” Sailor whines, practically jogging next to her dad as he drags us both through the sea of people in the airport. It’s not that he’s walking fast necessarily, it’s just that his legs are so much longer than both of ours that we are both having to keep up at a light trot.
The car ride seems to zip by quickly, the hour between Ridgewood and Bridge Point flying by in a blur as I sit in the front seat and try to keep myself from staring at Declan the whole time.
I’m not sure if our kiss has me seeing him in a whole new light, or if I’m really justthatobsessed with him, but the attraction I’ve had for him feels more amplified than it has in previous days.
I’m falling for him fast. Which is ironic because I hate reading insta-love in romance novels, but here I am, living my very own version. I guess to be fair, I’ve known Declan for a few months now, interacting on a daily basis and carrying out our very own forced, or at least close, proximity trope.
There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, though, nervous he’s going to change his mind and want to go back to keeping things professional for the sake of Sailor. It’s unsettling, but I push it to the back of my mind as he carries my suitcase up his walkway.
Stepping into the Lane house feels like coming home. The late evening sunlight pours into the open windows, draping theentryway and living room in a warm, golden glow. I drop my purse in its usual spot, and Sailor takes off running down the hallway toward her playroom with an excited squeal.