Down and Out(21)

I won’t, of course. Declan might be comfortable with saying what’s on his mind, but I’m not. Not like that, at least.
All I can manage to do is nod at his words, acknowledging that I’ve heard them. I’ve never had anyone rattle my defenses this much, and I think I’m still shell-shocked from the breach.
I turn and start opening the door, but Declan puts his hand on it and stops me. I feel him just behind me—close, but not touching. “I don’t know what you’re running from, but you’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”
My head nods again and he removes his hand, letting me slip out the door. For the first time in a really long time, I want to believe someone’s not totally full of shit.

? ? ?
I’m in love. His name is Samsung, and I think we’ll have a long and beautiful relationship.
I sigh and sink into Declan’s couch, mesmerized by the crisp images on the giant flat screen before me. I didn’t even know they made TVs with built-in Wi-Fi. How cool is—
“You ready?”
I jump at Declan’s voice. When he said he just needed to take a quick shower before we headed to the store, he wasn’t kidding. He wasn’t even gone for a whole ten minutes.
Turning the TV off, I toss the remote on the couch and stand, pausing when I finally get a good look at him. He’s really not wearing anything special—faded jeans and a plain white tee—but on him, with those tattoos covering his arms. . .
My. God.
I swallow, feeling my mouth go dry as my insides clench. I don’t know where to look. I like it all. His tats, his biceps, his face, his lip ring—
Wait, what?
Doing a double take, I see that, yep, holy shit, his lip is pierced. How am I just now noticing this? I look closely, realizing it’s the “earring” I saw this morning. He hasn’t worn it to work, probably because he’s usually sparring with that guy. . .
I frown, briefly wondering if Declan’s some kind of boxer or something. Why else would he be sparring practically every day?
“Your lip is pierced.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel like an idiot. Of course he knows his lip is pierced, Captain Obvious—it’s his damn lip.
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to stifle the smile pulling on the corners. “It is.”
Oh, God. He’s trying not to laugh at me and my spectacular observational skills. Feigning confidence, I say, “I’d ask if you have any other piercings, but I already know the answer to that,” and smirk as I glance down at his crotch.
He leans in and reaches past me, grabbing his keys from the breakfast bar. “Maybe I just didn’t have the piercing in at the time,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
My mouth drops open. “Wait—do you?” I ask, following him out the door and down the steps. It wouldn’t be such a leap with all his tattoos and the piercings I have seen, but the thought of it still has me shocked and, honestly, a little interested. I’ve never met a guy who has their junk pierced.
Well, not up close and personally, at least.
Declan stops at a sleek, black vintage car I’ve seen in the parking lot every day. I should’ve known this is his car. It screams “Declan.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says over the roof of his car as he unlocks his door. “You show me your vibrator and I’ll whip out my cock so you can see for yourself.”
I roll my eyes, but I feel heat creeping into my cheeks and spilling down my neck at the idea of him “whipping it out.” This, of course, only makes his smile widen as he climbs in and pops the lock on my door.
Getting in, I mutter, “I don’t want to see it, I was just curious.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He glances over at me as he sticks the keys in the ignition. “Is that why you barged in on me last night? Because you were curious?”
The warmth in my face burns hotter at his insinuation that it was anything other than an accident on my part. It definitely wasn’t. Goddamn it, why am I the one blushing when he’s the one who got caught masturbating?
Declan turns the ignition and the engine rumbles to life. I’m immediately jealous that a car twenty years older than my already ancient Honda just starts right up, without any coaxing or sweet-talking. It’s not fair. I had to tell my car “I love you” three times yesterday before the damn thing would turn over.
Needy bitch.
“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat, right, Kitten?” Declan winks at me, grinning smugly.
My lips purse as I shake my head and buckle my seatbelt. He wants to tease me? Fine. But for his sake, I hope he can take it as well as he dishes it out. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but it wasn’t curiosity that had me barging in on you.”
Arm outstretched, he rests his wrist on top of the steering wheel. I can’t help but stare at all that inked muscle. “Oh, yeah?” he says, amused. “What was it, then?”
“Necessity.” My eyes flick up to his. “I’d just gone a round with my vibrator and I had a huge mess to clean up. I was soaked when I accidentally walked in on you doing what I’d been doing only minutes before.”
Declan’s smile fades, his face going slack before the back of his head hits the headrest and his eyes close. “I don’t even care if you’re kidding. I’m just gonna pretend like you’re serious, because holy f*cking shit is that hot.”
“I am serious. Had to bite one of your pillows to keep from screaming out. And, um, I should probably wash your sheets when we get back. They got kind of . . . wet.”