Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) by Michelle Irwin Page B

me.
    She let loose a sob. “I’ve barely seen you all day. I don’t know anyone else here. At Hazel’s insistence, I put Phoebe to bed in the main house, and then I was alone. I couldn’t see you in the throng of people who surrounded you. Then when you finally bother to try to find me, the first thing you do is accuse me of trying to run off or something with the one person who actually made the effort to come over and talk to me while the rest of you boys were doing whatever the fuck it was you were doing.”
    “What do you want from me?” I asked.
    “A little support and some trust.”
    I had to make her see that I trusted her—it was the snake in the grass, Hunter, I didn’t trust. “Baby, do you know that when I was . . .” I didn’t think bringing up a reminder of my past would be the wisest thing at that moment. “Well, before, I didn’t give a shit who someone came to a party with? Only who they left with.”
    Which was usually me.
    “What’s your point?” she asked, growing angry again.
    I knew I had to be careful stepping around the minefield she was slowly laying out. If I didn’t catch shit for the Hunter thing, then it would be for leaving her alone. If I managed to sidestep that devastation, it would be my past that would blow up in my face. But I could see those things coming—what would really set me on my arse were the bombs I didn’t expect.
    “I love you and you’re mine.”
    “Yours?” she repeated, rolling the word around on her tongue. “Like a piece of furniture? To be paraded around as needed and then dumped when it suits you?” She pushed away from me.
    Damn! ”You know I don’t think of you like that,” I growled. “You and Phoebe are everything to me.”
    “Whatever,” she muttered, turning away again.
    Fuck! ”No, not whatever!” I exclaimed. I grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly against me. To silence her argument, and show her the truth, I kissed her. Hard. Without giving her a chance to resist, I pushed my tongue against her lips and demanded entry. She stiffened at first, her hands pressing against my chest to push me off, but after a beat she responded as I’d hoped she would. She relaxed into me, and her own tongue snaked forward to meet mine.
    We moaned with desire in unison. It had been too long. Far too long. My hair trigger was back in force, and my dick was pressing hard against her thigh, with only the material of my board shorts separating us. She hitched one leg around my waist, and I supported her weight with my hands. With her in my arms, I staggered forward until we hit the house. Pressed hard against her, my head swum from the heady combination of Alyssa and alcohol.
    She hummed against my mouth before kissing my neck. Even without her touching me, I was just about ready to drop my load.
    “Fuck, I want you . . . so badly,” I whispered to her.
    “Me too,” she said, her voice little more than a sigh. “It’s usually right about now that Phoebe interrupts us. Or one of us falls asleep.”
    I grinned wickedly. “Good thing she’s inside the house fast asleep and we’re out here wide awake, right?” I winked at her.
    She smiled slyly. “Good thing,” she agreed.
    Running her fingers into my hair, she brought my lips back to hers. Then she dropped her hand down to gently rub the tip of my cock through my shorts.
    I grunted at the feel of her touch.
    Fuck me.
    Someone came up behind me, but I was willing to ignore them.
    “Well, I guess it isn’t a Sinclair Racing party unless Declan Reede is grinding into someone pinned against the house,” one of the promoters said with a laugh on his way past.
    Fuck me! I thought. That fucking prick! And just when I’d managed to get Alyssa back onside. I turned back toward her, but she was blushing bright red, and I knew it was over. She untangled herself from me and then set about adjusting her sarong to cover herself back up.
    Fuck me!
    “I’m going to check on Phoebe,” she