Page 76 of Truce: Declan
It feels natural, holding her in my arms as I keep her against me, swaying to the music. There aren’t too many couples dancing, but we’re not the only ones.
She rests her head on my shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. “I didn’t think you’d come, and I wasn’t sure how I would survive tonight alone.”
“You’re not alone.”
Charlotte pulls her head back, staring up at me. “Well, I know that. I mean there are hundreds of people here, but I feel alone. I hate these extravagant types of events with guests that I don’t know or care little about.”
“You’re not the only one,” I whisper into her ear. What I hate even more is that her father is using Charlotte for his own benefit.
A blush crosses her cheeks when she pulls back and smiles up at me. “You’re something else.”
“So I’ve been told.” My hand rests on her lower back, holding her against me. She’s warm and her body melts into my touch. “Listen, I never got to thank you at the courthouse—”
“No thanks are necessary. I don’t deserve it after what I’ve done.”
“You helped me gain full custody of Zayn. If you hadn’t reached out to my lawyer, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“That was all you,” Charlotte says. “I just caused a few speed bumps along the way.”
That’s putting it mildly. “I think I get why you did what you did that night, with the police, having me arrested. I’m not happy about it, but I understand your motivations, protecting my son.”
“I was always trying to do the right thing. I’m sorry Zayn was returned to his mother when you were arrested.” The smile vanishes from her face, and there’s a heaviness behind her sullen sapphire gaze. “If I had realized what I was doing, I don’t think I can forgive myself for that. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for it, either.”
“I’m willing to move on, look forward,” I say. What she did still hurts, there’s no denying there were consequences, but I don’t want to hold a grudge indefinitely. My hand cups her face, bringing her gaze to meet mine.
“How about we work on trusting each other?” she asks, smiling weakly into my hand. “We start anew.”
My thumb grazes her bottom lip.
She has no idea what I’ve done, what I’ve planned for tonight. I’m not sure she’ll trust me after this evening. But the cogs are in motion. There’s no stopping it.
“We don’t have to date. I mean, I get it. I’m probably the last person in the world you want to be romantically entangled with,” Charlotte says, “but for just tonight, can we pretend to be happy and in love?”
Her lips are red and luscious. They’re close enough for me to brush mine against hers and kiss her. My mind screams at me to back away, but her scent is intoxicating, and it’s as though I’m under her spell. “I can do that,” I whisper, leaning in, taking a taste of the ripe forbidden fruit.
The kiss lasts seconds, but it feels like minutes, exploring each other's mouths, the pressure perfect as it starts slow, and we hungrily explore one another with our tongues.
My fingers dig into her hip, refraining from tangling in her hair. I want to unclip the updo, make her shake her red curls out, and bend her over the bar. I’d enjoy fucking her from behind, letting my cock fill her tight pussy as she screams my name for everyone to hear.
But that’s a mere fantasy.
And one that I’m not willing to explore and put my career and future on the line over because there are reporters and guests with phones who, on a whim, will record anything that looks remotely juicy to upload to their social media for two minutes of fame.
“Reece,” a rough male voice pulls me from my kiss with Charlotte. My stomach churns, already knowing who that voice belongs to without even having to look. Grant Brass.
Of course, he’d be attending tonight’s event. He’s one of the star players for the Island Bruisers.
He has impeccable timing.
“What are you doing here?” Grant asks, sharp-tongued as he sizes me up. “This is by invitation only, and you’re ruining the ambiance.”
Two of his teammates, Knox Storm and Mack Conrad, stroll up behind Grant. Does he think that he needs backup at a charity function?
“My girlfriend invited me,” I say, wrapping an arm around Charlotte’s waist.
“Took you two no time at all to shack up again,” Grant says, glancing Charlotte over. “Lucky for me, Char is auctioning herself off for a night.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I step forward, blocking Grant from going anywhere near Charlotte. “You place one bid, and I swear I’ll—”
