Never Been Ready (Ready #2)(10)

Much like I had done at her house, she settled herself on the sofa, making herself comfortable without asking permission. She had her spunk back tonight. Dressed in a low-cut black sweater, a short pink skirt, and heels, she looked fierce and very tempting. The flustered girl I'd walked in on last week was gone, and Leah, the firecracker I'd met in bed all those months ago, was back. Having met both sides of her now, I couldn't decide which I liked better.

"So, when exactly do I get my striptease?" I asked.

"Well, that's up to you, Hotshot."

"Hotshot?"

"Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition, and sexy as f**k —it's a good nickname."

"All right, so what are your terms, Leah?"

I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself from just saying, Fuck it, and pinning her against the wall before she could lay down any terms or requirements. Because whatever she was about to say, I was going to agree. She didn't know it, but she had my balls in her perfect little hands, and I was at her f**king mercy. I both hated and wanted her at the same time. She made me feel out of control and weak with need. I couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk away.

"I will not be an easy f**k whenever you get too lazy to find a new bimbo for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed, wondering where you've been and what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting," she declared.

Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to hear.

"I want to be exclusive with you —for however long we decide to do this. I don't care about labels or dates. You don't have to take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The only thing I ask is that, for the time we are together, you are mine."

"Yes," I answered immediately, surprising us both.

"Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out or temper tantrum, Declan?"

"No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one request,"

I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers, and I heard her breath falter.

"And what's that, Hotshot?"

"Make it two," I amended. "First, the same rules apply to you. While we're together, for however long, you're mine, Leah," I purred against her ear.

Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged, giving me a quick sense of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and collected exterior.

"And second?" she asked timidly.

"Don't f**king call me Hotshot."

She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before saying, "So not happening, Hotshot."

~Leah~

He stood and circled the room like a predator stalking prey. I was the gazelle, and he was the hungry lion. I could still remember the feel of his lips from last week when they'd moved against my neck, so soft and warm. It had been six months, but every detail had been memorialized in my memory —every touch, every moan, every earth-shattering second.

My hands trembled in anticipation, knowing those memories would finally become reality again. When you knew what you were missing, it was almost worse than anticipating something you'd never had. I was like a drug addict standing in front of a dealer, eagerly anticipating her next hit.

"I believe I was promised a striptease," Declan said, breaking the heavy silence that had filled the room. He sat down in a plush beige chair, kicking his legs up on the nearby desk. He placed his hands behind his gorgeous head and leaned back, like he was waiting for the show to begin.

"I don't recall promising you one," I fired back.

I was a little breathless at my new view. Seeing Declan sprawled out in front of me did dirty things to my mind. I wanted nothing more than to knock those legs off that desk and sink into his lap, so I could relive all the fantasies I'd been living off of for so long. But I was stubborn as a mule, and I refused to give in so easily. This was a game we were playing, and I definitely wanted to play with him.

"Mmm...well, seems you told the desk clerks you were here to give your boyfriend a striptease. We wouldn't want to disappoint the poor boys, would we, Leah?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"You're not my boyfriend."

"No, but you did just agree to be mine, didn't you? I think we'll start with the top. Lose it." His voice deepened, becoming darker, sensual, and sexy as hell.

My muscles tightened in response, and I instantly flushed. I felt like a raging inferno had erupted inside my body, melting me from within. Complying with his command, I rose from the sofa and slowly lifted my sweater up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor in a billowing heap. His hazel eyes darkened, becoming greener, as he took me in.

"Now, the skirt, Leah," he said, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor in front of him.

He leaned back in the chair, trying to appear relaxed, but his former calm was gone, replaced with the hum of sexual energy now coursing through his system. He looked feral, barely contained, and I loved that my presence was bringing the animal out in him.

Achingly slow, I slid the skirt down my long legs, still tan from the summer, until it joined my sweater in the growing pile of clothes. I was now standing before him in nothing but black lace and heels. Feeling emboldened, I reached for the closure of my bra.

Declan interrupted, "No, my turn."