Curve Struck (A Celebrity Stepbrother Romance) (23 page)

"It had to be you," she repeated.

"Skye didn't just think the government was out to get her, or the aliens. She thought the entire universe was sentient and targeting her. When I turned around to find the woman I'd been fantasizing over for two months standing next to my father's new wife, I felt like the universe was out to get me. That scotch I threw back while you were inhaling the peppermint schnapps was the first alcoholic drink I've had since Willie's apartment fire."

She stared at him, eyes misting, but couldn't get her mouth or any other muscle in her body to work.

"The alcohol makes things that are already too vivid in my mind even more real," he explained. "It makes me walk and talk in my sleep and blurs lines between dreaming and an awake state."

Reaching up, he touched his nose, rubbing at the bridge between his eyes, his fingertip catching each time he hit a particular spot. It was a gesture she'd seen him make many times over, but not when he was stressed.

"When I was sixteen, I broke my nose trying to levitate," he explained, his Southie accent thickening. "I had dreamt that I learned a technique, quite by accident, that worked one hundred percent of the time. All I had to do was lean further and further forward and then I would be floating on air."

Declan paused and studied her for a second before he went on.

"Sometimes, I remember my dreams as fact days or months after I've had them."

He dropped his hand back to his lap. "So I learned to build in little reality checks. When I touch my nose in a dream, it's never been broken, so I know I'm asleep."

Feeling the last of her resistance crumbling, Melanie sagged in her chair. She searched her memory for all the times she'd seen him rub his nose like that, just more discreetly.

In the limo at the private airfield -- that was the first time she could remember.

In the screening room was another.

And that first walk to his bedroom stood out in her mind because of how his cheeks had colored when she caught what he was doing.

The rubbing was one of those details she hadn't been able to fit into her picture of who Declan was and what he wanted until that very moment in Greggs' office.

Every time Declan had stroked that small spot, he was asking himself one question.

Was he dreaming? Was he dreaming she was with him, not running away, opening to him, accepting him, loving him?

Declan leaned forward, his body careful to avoid contact with hers.

"There are parts of me I was never willing to cede to my mother or Willie, Melanie. I have ceded everything to you."

Slowly, she lifted her hand, one finger tentatively extended, and stroked the bridge of his nose, the bump invisible but detectible by touch.

Closing his eyes, Declan grinned.

"I was actually itching to do that," he confessed.

Her finger slid lower, then she brushed three of them against his lips.

"All that time on set, I didn't think I deserved you," he whispered. "Or that you didn't deserve my baggage. I was afraid you wouldn't walk out of my life to save yourself if..."

Retreating, he glanced away.

"You bloomed late," she filled in.

His Adam's apple bobbed erratically, her heart bobbing with it.

"I'm sorry," she said, covering his hands with hers and leaning far enough forward she could rest her cheek against his. "I love you. I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to admit it this morning."

Before Declan could respond, a discreet knock sounded at the door and then it pushed open. Entering the room, Mike found Declan and Melanie pressed cheek-to-check.

"Either I need to hustle Miss Archer through security, or I need to record a reason why she has a boarding pass but isn't boarding."

She looked at Mike over her shoulder. "A reason?"

Was it illegal to lie to a TSA officer if he knew she was lying?

"Well," he answered. "You didn't check any bags, so that's good. If, say, you forgot prescription medicine--"

"Yes!" she blurted then her cheeks colored. "Do you need to know wh--"

Mike shook his head. "We have the discretion not to pry unless certain factors are present, and they are not present for you."

Exhaling, she realized she had been holding her breath. Freeing a short giggle, she softly brushed the side of her nose against Declan's cheek.

"I'll just clear you in the system and then you can leave," Greggs said, emphasizing the leaving part before he walked out of his office, closing the door so that they were alone again.

Hesitating for a few seconds, Melanie rolled her lips.

"What is it, love?"

"I know there are paparazzi all over the world, but I'm getting pretty sick of Los Angeles."

He nodded. "I should have at least a few weeks' reprieve from anything to do with the lawsuit. We could visit your mother in England. "

She had been fishing for that exact suggestion, but she quirked her mouth to the right. "Visiting my mom also means visiting your dad."

Declan offered a quick lift of his brows and a side glance, his lips curving in a smile and his nose crinkling. "Where would you and I be if he hadn't finally showed up?"

She matched his smile with a broad grin then closed her eyes, her head bouncing with too much emotion. Opening her eyes, she gave him an impetuous peck just below his ear.

"When can we go?"

"A day or so," he answered. "I'll need to arrange a charter."

Looking down, his foot nudged her two bags.

"And we might want to pack a few more items. Maybe there's even time for you to finish that red dress?"

Her face lit up at the suggestion and she bobbed her head.

"Plus there's one more thing I want to do before we leave."

She looked at him, not only the question of "what" but complete trust stamped on her face.

He flashed another grin, his shoulders pushing forward for a second.

"The Alfa Romeo is parked in the lot outside. If we get out of here as fast as Mike wants us to, I think we can squeeze in a sunset drive up the coast."

She winked at him. "Top down?"

"Of course," he answered, closing in on a kiss that didn't end until Mike opened his office door and kicked them out.

They finished their drive at Oxnard, stopping for the night at the Mandalay Beach hotel. Dinner was brought up to their suite. Sitting on the balcony, curled around one another, they ate and watched night drape the ocean.

"I didn't think I was going to be this happy ever again," Melanie said when the meal was finished.

"It was good sushi," Declan teased.

Pouting, she shook her head then buried her face against his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"Sort of." He traced the curve of her jaw with the back of his fingers. Reaching her chin, he tilted her head up. "But I hoped I could find you before you gave up on us."

Ashamed of how she had run, she eased her chin out of his grasp and hid her face against his neck, softening her retreat with warm kisses that Declan relaxed into. Feeling something vibrate against her hip, she pulled back.

"Your phone again."

Tension glazed her voice. The attorneys had called Declan twice since they had left the terminal at LAX. Technically, they called him half a dozen times, but he had turned the phone off after the first call and only turned it back on when he was registering for the room.

Declan had offered the barest of explanations as to why the attorneys were concerned. He promised more detail when the lawyers were done freaking out.

Which totally freaked her out.

"You should take it," she coaxed when he let it go to voicemail. "Or you can tell me why they keep calling."

"I'll do both," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead and standing up. "Then I'm turning it off for the night."

She pulled him down for another kiss before he could disappear into the suite.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice going husky.

"Or," he rasped, "I could leave the phone out here and take you inside."

A thrill shot through Melanie. Her grip on his shirt tightened but she shook her head.

"I want to ride you with a clear mind," she purred.

Declan groaned, buried his face against her neck then growled as the phone started vibrating again.

"Bunch of sadists."

Sighing, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and stabbed at the screen as he walked into the suite and closed the French doors.

Staring out at the water, the foam caps on the waves catching the moonlight, Melanie let the ocean calm her. Tomorrow, they would return to the mansion. She'd finish up her dress and they would both pack for the trip to England and fly out the morning after. They planned at least a month in one of the cottages at Roger's estate outside of London, with a trip or two during the stay to places like Dublin and Edinburgh.

She only worried that whatever had the attorneys frantically trying to reach Declan would cause the trip to be delayed or cancelled until further notice. But as long as she was with Declan, it didn't matter where she was.

Exhaling, she tried to match her breathing to the waves, but they ebbed and flowed too slowly. Still, their rhythm helped her relax. Out there, time and pressure were grinding rocks and shells to sand. On the balcony and in the suite, time and patience would build up what others were trying to destroy.

Peeking over her shoulder, she looked past the lace curtains framing the French doors and caught a glimpse of Declan. He still had the phone pressed to his ear. His eyes were closed, but Melanie thought she detected relief on his features.

Forcing herself to turn back to the ocean, she waited for him to finish the call.

A few minutes later, the lights in the suite went out. Heart suddenly jackhammering in her chest, she jumped to her feet. Yanking open the door, she froze as Declan struck a match and held it to the wick on one of the many candles decorating the room.

"Sorry, love," he said, lighting a second candle.

"No," she whispered, coming fully into the room and closing the door. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm more worried than I realized that things could still quickly fall apart."

Finished with the room's lighting, Declan crossed over to Melanie and drew her toward the small loveseat. Sitting down, he pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled at her neck.

"I should have been more open about the calls...and the meeting." His embrace tightened and he brushed his nose against her cheek. "I almost lost you because I didn't want to worry you this morning."

"Well," he chuckled in self-deprecation. "Because of that and other things."

Turning in his arms, she curled one hand around the side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. Heat infused her body as he responded with a slow sweep of his tongue inside her mouth.

"Curling my toes," she murmured, hooking the heel of her shoe on the edge of the couch and easing it off then repeating the motion with the other shoe. Pulling her legs onto the loveseat, she rested her cheek against Declan's.

"Are you ready to tell me what's up with the attorneys?"

"I'm more ready for something else," Declan teased and gently bit at her earlobe. "But, yes. Best to get it out in the open so I have your full attention when I take you to bed."

Grinning, she pressed her face against his neck. If he kept talking about what he was going to do to her, she would forget about the calls and the attorneys entirely.

"Stop stalling," she admonished when she could straighten out her smile enough to talk.

"Fine, but my way's more fun."

He gave her bottom a light tap then started.

"Strake's attorneys threatened a counterclaim yesterday evening. Basically, if I was telling the truth, then most of what happened to his face occurred when you were out of harm's way, meaning I didn't have the 'defense of others' excuse to excuse pulverizing him. In addition to wanting ten million dollars and untold punitive damages, he was threatening to press criminal charges."

Melanie's mouth dropped open and she tightened her grip on Declan. Words stumbled on their way past her lips.

"What is he thinking? I can still press charges against him!"

"His attorneys pointed to the fact that no charges having been filed already as proof that any contact between the two of you was consensual and, in large part, misunderstood mentoring on the costume challenges of a film that includes bondage."

Melanie's blood started to boil for all the wrong reasons. "That's exactly what he would have told the police."

She started to pull away but Declan wouldn't let her.

"That was the bad news from this morning, baby girl." He gave another soft tap to her ass then squeezed. "Strake issued a video press release forty minutes ago. He publicly apologized for any misunderstandings and poor judgment on his part, blamed it on interactions with a new prescription medication and checked into rehab. Half an hour before that, he signed a settlement agreement."

"He settled?"

"Barely -- he'll cover my legal fees and drop the counterclaim, in addition to the retraction he's already made," Declan explained. "But I imagine the studio will be quick to kick in a couple million for their breach of contract. Even if they don't, I'm glad there's one less threat to us."

"Us," she repeated, a smile in her voice.

"Yes," he purred and slid a hand under her shirt. "Get used to hearing that a lot because I'm all about us now, Mel."

She hid against his chest, one hand fisting his shirt.

"I love you, baby."

She nodded furiously, her throat too tight to repeat the declaration.

With a soft chuckle, Declan coaxed her off the loveseat and toward the king-size bed with its four posters and gauzy drape of white fabric. He made her stand long enough for him to pull back the comforter and then he sat her at the edge of the mattress.

"I took your Boston cap," she confessed nervously as he gripped the hem of her top and began to lift. She didn't know why she felt more vulnerable than the other times they'd been intimate, but she did.

"I know," he said with a ticklish laugh at the back of his throat. "The exterior cameras are set to always record."

When the blouse cleared her head, she was staring up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. "You saw..."

She didn't want to reference or even contemplate her escape over the side fence.

"Yes, Nancy Drew," he teased. "I saw you climb on top of the trash can and disappear."

His smile sobered. "It's funny now, but I felt like my heart was getting ripped out when I watched."

She dropped her head, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry."

Declan was right when he said she was a little bit crazy. Going over the fence had been irrational and cowardly.

Cupping Melanie's chin, Declan tilted her head up.

"Just promise me that if you ever feel that desperate about us again, you'll talk to me."

"I promise."

Her hands curled around his hips and Declan let her rest her cheek against his stomach as he stood over her. His fingers smoothed at her back for a few seconds in a light massage and then he unhooked her bra.

Grinning, she looked up. "How is it you always have me at least half naked while you still have twice as much clothing on?"

He had shed his jacket and tie before dinner, but the dress shirt and undershirt were still on. as were his shoes, socks, briefs, pants and belt.

Melanie wiggled her arms out of the bra's straps then dodged his hands as he sought to push her against the mattress so he could finish undressing her.

"Not so fast, buddy," she joked as her fingers worked his belt buckle. She loosened the belt then undid the button on his slacks before tugging his dress shirt and undershirt clear of his waist band.

Declan started to unbutton his shirt while Melanie worked at freeing his cock.

He groaned when her fingers curled around the beast and tugged it up past the elastic band of his briefs. When her wet lips closed over its freed head, his knees almost buckled.

"This," he said, capturing her shoulders and forcing her to yield, "is exactly why I stay dressed longer."

Uncurling like a cat along the mattress, she relented and let him strip her pants and underwear away.

"I get to taste you first," she said as he tried to coax her into position on the center of the bed.

Skirting any opportunity for him to protest otherwise, she slid off the mattress and onto her knees on the floor.

"Mel--"

He stopped talking as she yanked his slacks and briefs down past his hips. He stood there, his dress shirt unbuttoned and his hard cock yearning toward Melanie as his abdominals tightened in anticipation.

"You can reprimand me later," she purred, wrapping one hand around the thick shaft and pointing the head at her mouth.

Slowly, she licked swirls, starting at the flared edges and circling in toward the thin slit at top where a pearl of pre-cum was already beading. Reaching the drop of liquid, she curled it onto the tip of her tongue.

Declan's hands braced against her shoulders, the fingertips digging softly at her flesh.

"Baby--"

"Sit down," she ordered.

His ass landed hard on the mattress. She made quick work of stripping his bottom half free of clothes as he removed the dress shirt and tee. When they were both done undressing him, she settled on her haunches and looked at his body bathed in candlelight.

A small grin tugged at her mouth.

"What are you thinking, Mel?"

"That I want to lick you all over," she answered.

His eyelids fluttered shut and his cock bobbed forward.

Lifting up onto her knees, Melanie smothered Declan's cock with her breasts as her mouth sealed around one small nipple. With a groan, he grabbed the sides of her breasts and squeezed them together, forming a mold that slid along the length of his cock.

"Mmm," she purred as she switched nipples. "Salty."

She took a light bite at the sensitive tip then pulled away. She brushed his hands off her breasts and pulled a little further back, his cock still trapped between her flesh. Dipping her head, Melanie rocked on her knees, his cock pushing up from between her breasts to meet her mouth.

Her lips sealed around the head. Moaning, Declan spread his legs a little wider and leaned back on one arm to watch her. His free hand reached forward to pluck at her nipple.

"You're killing me, love," he half groaned, half growled.

Grabbing both of her nipples, he tried to tug her up onto the bed so that she would have to abandon sucking on him.

"Not fair," she moaned. The forceful tugging made her wet pussy throb.

"We can taste each other at the same time," he suggested. "Just get up here and turn around."

Was Declan saying he wanted her to sit on his face?

"You know you want my mouth on your pussy," he teased when she hesitated.

Insides clutching in agreement, Melanie moaned.

"Sounds like a 'yes,'" Declan purred and gave her nipples a playful tug.

Happy that the low light of the candles would hide her blazing hot cheeks, Melanie freed her breasts from Declan's control and got on the bed. Sitting next to him, she continued to stall. Even side-by-side oral was beyond her experience.

"I haven't done anything like this," she confessed as Declan turned his head and gazed lovingly at her.

"Mel, love, you've made yourself vulnerable to me dozens of times," he coaxed. "And not one of those times made me desire your body any less. There isn't an angle that makes me unhappy, baby."

Turning on his side, he brushed her knees apart as she knelt next to him. Watching her face, Declan slid his hand between her legs. Dread at the thought of planting herself on his face had dried her up. He set about making her wet again.

His thumb feathered its way down the length of her clit. The back of one knuckle stroked a firm line up the top split of her labia. Then he treated her to the feathery touch once more. Her eyelids grew heavy and her nipples turned into small, hard points.

"Look at me, love," he rasped.

She obeyed, forcing her eyes to stay open as the mouth of her pussy began to swell shut from his expert teasing.

"Lift," he ordered. "You can brace your hands on your heels."

She did as told, gasping when he surprised her with the hard slide of two fingers inside her. His thumb stayed on her clit, the strokes of his hand seesawing between deep inside her and along the length of that aching exterior spine.