Bang (Black Lotus #1)(26)

He doesn’t move, and I add, “Or maybe your distaste is for your father.”

“Interesting. Why bring him up?”

I smile and say, “Come on. We’ve both met the man. He’s a bastard; you said it yourself the other day.”

Declan laughs under his breath, saying “You’re not delicate with your words, are you?”

“Did I give you the impression that I’m delicate?”

With a soft hum, he gives me an inquisitive look, and then asks, “What about your father?”

He catches me slightly off guard. A pinprick in the one soft spot that I’ve never been able to harden.

You want to know my weakness?

Well, there it is.

I miss my father.

Shifting the focus, I redirect, saying, “We’re not talking about me, remember?”

“Of course.”

“Do you even get along with him?”

“As well as anyone else does,” he answers.

“That’s a very political answer.”

With his hand, he brushes my cheek slightly as he takes a lock of my hair and tucks it behind my ear, saying, “Whether or not you’re in politics, everything is political. We all save face for others to perceive us in the best light. Nothing is real until you break down the walls and reveal the ugliness.”

“Ugliness,” I repeat as I look at him.

“The truest part of a person is always the ugliest. And with your evasiveness, I would bet that you’re pretty damn ugly beneath all that gloss.”

He keeps a straight face as he says this, and the truth behind his words irritates me. I know I’m ugly. Uglier than most. I’m tarnished and decrepit, but I’ll be damned if I ever let him or anyone else see the wretched heart that beats inside of me.

“You’re an *,” I bite.

“Baby, I’ve been called a lot worse, so if you’re trying to offend me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

With a glare, I say, “I don’t get you and your insults. I thought you wanted to be my friend.”

He moves in closer to me, and with a low voice, murmurs, “I don’t want to be your friend, Nina.”

Taking a hard swallow, I feign nervousness, whispering, “You should go,” as he continues to move himself toward me, and then over me, forcing me to lie back on the floor with both his hands braced on either side of me. “Declan, this is wrong,” I breathe.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Tell me you love your husband,” his voice taunting.

“I love my husband.”

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he says, eyes pinned to mine.

“I don’t want you.”

My breathing increases and grows heavy when he lowers himself onto his elbow and starts running his one hand down the center of my sternum, between my breasts, adding quietly, “Tell me you’re not lying to me.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

Then, with his legs intertwined with mine, he slips his hand down my pants, under my panties, parting the lips of my * and dragging his finger through my heat. He smiles cagily down at me when he feels how wet I am and then quickly removes his hand, bringing it to my lips and shoving his finger into my mouth, telling me, “Taste your lies, Nina.”

His breath bathes me with his words, and I give in, allowing my tongue, for a brief and noticeable moment, to wrap around his finger, giving him the obedience I know he craves, but inside, I’m mortified and disgusted. I hate that my body would react this way—growing wet for this man. Pulling away and jerking my head to the side, I don’t look at him, but soon feel his nose gliding along my exposed neck, hearing him inhale my scent.

“Declan . . .”

“Hmm . . .?”

I roll my head back, and look straight up at him. “Get the f*ck off of me.”

When he doesn’t move right away, I fist my hands, and flip the switch on him, weakly slamming them against his chest, allowing the look of guilt to wash over my face. “Get off of me now, Declan.”

He moves back and sits on his heels as I rise off of my back and scoot away from him, muttering, “Please, just go. Just leave me alone.”

“Nina . . .”

“You can’t do this to me. I’m not that person.”

He reaches out for me, saying, with apology in his voice, “I don’t want to upset you; you just make it hard for me to control myself when I’m around you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like you. Because I know you’re not happy. I can see you hiding, and I don’t want you to do that around me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I affirm sternly.

“Okay then,” he releases in frustration. “You want me to accept that when we both know it’s a lie?”

“I’m not hiding,” I repeat, and with that, he stands and walks away and out the door.

Fucking, Christ!

A part of me wants to squeal in victory, knowing I’ve got this guy by the balls, and the other part feels like it needs a drink because he’s so goddamn deluged with intensity. I’ve come across a few guys in the past year, but none have shown this level of interest. They all fizzled before anything could ever get started, so the elation that I feel with Declan gives me the power I need to move forward.