Page 112 of Between Commitment and Betrayal
I sighed. “No. Can we just eat about ten of these and maybe some ice cream?”
She nodded, her face in a permanent frown, but she did what a friend was supposed to in that moment. She went and turned off her Open sign, cranked up the music, and brought out the whole pan of brownies. “If it makes you feel better, I have to work with Dom in the next few months on the Pacific Coast Resort, and I’m pretty sure I can’t stand him, but even so, I can’t look away either. The Hardy men are enigmas of our species.”
I stuffed another brownie in my mouth and let her continue.
We sat there for an hour talking about men, about growing up, about how ridiculous it had been that we weren’t ever brought together on the holidays. A silver lining to my whole stay in Florida was that I’d found Clara.
We walked over to Vibe, and I texted Declan’s driver that I would be late. We sat and ate and talked more.
By the time I got back, I didn’t expect for my own guesthouse light to be on. Yet, when I went to unlock the door, it drifted open, and there was Declan. The soft light of the living room glowed over his features as he sat in a collared shirt, his cuffs folded up, and a tumbler hanging from one hand.
“You’re late.”
“Late?” I stuttered out. “It’s only eleven.”
“You normally turn your lights out at ten.”
I chuckled and set my duffel bag down in the foyer, pushed off my shoes, and stared at him, not sure what to think of him being there. “You seem to know everything about me, I guess.”
He shrugged and swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Want to go get your pajamas on?” I chewed on my cheek without answering. “I’m guessing you showered at the gym.”
I rolled my eyes and stomped to my bedroom to go get a sleep shirt on rather than sitting around in workout gear. It was late, and I did want to be comfortable. When I reappeared, he was still sitting there, a smile that didn’t seem kind at all on his face. Then he stood and pulled from his back pocket the very envelope I’d left him that morning. “See. Creature of habit, and that’s the exact reason why I wasn’t expecting to find this tonight.”
The papers smacked down on my coffee table with athwack. I bit my lip as I took in how he wobbled a bit on his feet, how his eyes looked wild, and how he smelled enough like whiskey to know he wasn’t completely sober. “It’s not something we should talk about after you’ve been drinking.”
He tsked. “When should we talk about it, Everly? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t even come here to talk with you? You thought leaving the papers and giving the wedding ring back would do?”
“Declan,” I scoffed and tried to slow my heart, tried to tell my body that even though he was here late at night it didn’t mean we were getting anything from him other than a fight. I went to get a glass of water and grabbed an apple from the counter bowl where I kept them. I started to cut it and murmured, “I figured we’re over. You’re with Anastasia now—”
“I’m not with her.” The proclamation flew from his mouth fast. “I can’t stand her. I can’t stand any damn woman because all I can think of isyou.”
“Declan, you just went to dinner with her,” I pointed out. Then I cut another slice.
“Yep.” He took a swig of his whiskey and walked over to the counter where I stood so he could slam the glass down on the granite. “And I drank far too much in order to tolerate getting through the night with her. But guess what, Everly? That’s over now. I won’t be seeing her again.”
He was leaning in close to me, his chest on my arm as I glanced to the side to meet his gaze. “What?” I whispered out.
He went behind me and caged me in before he rubbed his length against me, my nightshirt catching on him and riding up a bit. “My cock doesn’t like anyone but you. I did all this for you too.”
He wasn’t making any sense. I frowned at him in question.
“Then I see those fucking divorce papers and you’re not here. Were you with someone else?” His voice was full of wrath.
I looked over my shoulder as he asked and saw those green eyes flash with jealousy. “If I was?” I raised my chin.
He chuckled and nodded over and over before his hand dragged up my thigh and shoved my legs apart. “Let’s see, huh?” I gasped as his hand went under my night shirt. I wouldn’t deny that he’d find me aroused. “Soaking wet as always,” he murmured in my ear and then growled as he turned me around. “You going to eat that apple while I eat you?”
My hands flew to his shoulders as he dropped to his knees and pushed my panties to the side so he could taste me. Everything was more sensitive I’d noticed, and now I knew why. The pregnancy was starting to affect my body, and I felt his touch on my sex like a bolt of lightning in the middle of a dark night. Fast, hot, electric. “Declan, you’re drunk—”
“So? I can’t indulge my wife’s drenched pussy when I am? I just want a taste, Drop.” He lapped at my folds, and I shivered at feeling his tongue against me. “You taste better than the alcohol, baby. I’d rather get drunk on you.” And then he dove in, angrily, ruthlessly, viciously nipping at my clit and fingerfucking me while lapping at my arousal like he owned all of it.
I clawed at his head and told him to hurry, I rushed him like he’d said in the past, but I didn’t care. I wanted him between my legs instead of hers. I wanted him here instead of with her. I wanted him.
When I orgasmed on his mouth, he held me there as I rode out the aftershocks on his tongue, moaning his name and then he slid up my body as he put my panties back in place. “Yeah, you weren’t with anyone else either. That pussy only spasms like that for me.”
“Declan—”
“I’m not having a child with her. I wasn’t even seeing her. I just had to act like I was. We’re not getting a divorce.” He walked over to the papers and ripped them up. Not just into two or three pieces. He stood there shredding them as I watched.
