Page 87 of Declan
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HE’ S USELESS, BUT HE’ S TRYING SO HARD, I CAN ’T BE MAD ABOUT IT. SO FAR, HE’ S FAILED spectacularly as a waiter, repeatedly forgetting drink orders and having to go back to the tables to ask them to repeat them. He was so adorably flustered no one gave him any shit, which is a miracle.
He’s behind the bar now with Bree, his hoodie long gone, white t-shirt soaked with sweat. A gaggle of women are at his end of the bar, flirting up a storm, teasing him about taking his shirt off. I can’t decide if I want him to or if I’m a jealous ho-bag with double standards. I play up the sex when I’m on shift. It’s great for the tips and fits the vibe of my club. But Dec doing it? Not sure I’m a fan.
He shoots a panicked look my way. Grinning, I move past his admirers and duck under the bar.
His eyes are wide, the white all the way around his brown eyes visible.
“I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. What’s a Sex on a Beach? How do I make an Orgasm?”
Choking on my laughter, I turn to the women, many of whom are regulars. “You guys are awful! Seriously? Who ordered a Sex on the Beach?” One of the women in the back cackles, and I shake my head at their ridiculousness. “Tanya, since when do you drink shit like that?”
“Girl,” she shouts back, flipping her tight braids off her shoulder. “Don’t ruin it. We almost had that shirt off! Every time we ask him for something he don’t know how to make, he sweats a little more!”
I cross my arms on the bar, drop my head onto them, and laugh. These conniving women.
“Wait...you’ve all been torturing me this whole time?” The shock in his voice makes me laugh harder. “So you don’t want an Orgasm?”
Jesus. The women are in hysterics, catcalling and generally treating him like a piece of man candy they want to take many bites out of. His face is getting redder and redder. I should take pity on him, I know, but I can’t help thinking about those women chasing him out of that cooking class and I laugh more.
His eyes dart between the ladies and me. His eyebrow quirks, and he grabs the bottom of his shirt. “All for this? You just want...what? A peek?” He raises the shirt, making some of the girls yell, then drops it. They boo and shout for him to take it off. Some of the more brazen ones even fish out bills and start waving them around. They’re treating him like a stripper. I take a closer look at Declan’s face, and far from the panic I heard in his voice only minutes ago,he looks...intrigued.
I move to the corner of the bar, so he’s in full view of the women, and lean back against it. I don’t want to get in the way of the show, and maybe I need the support. The way he’s rubbing his hands over his stomach, through the shirt, has my knees a bit wobbly.
I almost feel like I’m watching a really hot butterfly come out of its cocoon. Declan’s always been so shy, awkward even. I’ve seen another side of him the last couple of weeks, but tonight, in front of these women, he’s realizing how sexy he is. And I don’t plan on stopping it anytime soon. Aside from the fact that Dec’s enjoying himself, the women are going to be talking about this for months. You can bet they’ll be back, looking for the hot bartender. If he actually takes his shirt off, I’m damn sure revenues will go up.
A small grin curls his lips as he teases the women. “You really want my shirt off? It’s just a chest, you know. There’s nothing special about it.” They make damn sure he knows they don’t agree. His smile widens. He turns to me, and I send him a wink. Let him play. I sure as fuck would enjoy the show, too. He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re not going to save me from this?”
“Baby, you don’t need saving. They’re all eating out of the palm of your hand. Just look.” His eyes lock on mine, heating, before finally turning to the women.
He studies them, finally seeing that behind their teasing is true interest. Any one of these women would go home with him in a heartbeat, and they have no idea how much money he’s worth. It’s all sexual, primal, and he’s finally clueing in.
A touch of confidence, the kind I usually only see when he’s talking computers, enters his eyes. He raises his arms, reaching for the back of his shirt. My panties are in serious trouble now. It’s such a man thing to do, and it shows off his powerful arms and wide chest. I clench my thighs together and resist the urge to drag him back to my office. We’re definitely going there later, but right now, I want the fucking show.
He winks at me, then grins at the ladies. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks, then pulls his shirt off right there in the middle of my club. The women are going insane, begging him to come closer so they can touch. Some of them are tossing money at him. And he’s standing there, wide-eyed, realizing for the first time that he is a sexy beast. A seriously sexy beast.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
The first time I saw him with his shirt off, I was not in the headspace to appreciate it. The second time, I didn’t get enough of a view before those gorgeous muscles were covered up with body paint. But tonight? Oh, my god. His skin is a light golden color, with a hint of white where his jeans dip down. The dusting of hair on his chest makes me think of running my fingers along it. Of pulling at it. I wonder if he likes a hint of pain with his pleasure?
One of the ladies kneels on the bar, and my brain comes back online. “Woah, now. Settle down. This is a look but don’t touch kinda place. Bree!” She’s been watching the show in between serving the big group of guys in front of her. She’s been playing with them all night, kind of like the old Bree would have, and I am so relieved. She flips a bar towel over her shoulder and wanders down to us, a massive smile on her face. She stops next to Declan, studying him up and down.
“Goddamn big guy. Cara never mentioned how built you are.” She reaches out and pokes one of his ab muscles, making them contract with his inhale. He pulls away from her with a little laugh, and I store that away. He’s ticklish, and I want to see what reactions I can pull out of him. I want to find all his sensitive spots. I just...want.
She turns to the women, grabbing drink orders, distracting them. I move to my man, grab his hand, and lead him away from the bar, through the crowd, and down the hallway. I don’t need to pull. He keeps his big body nearly pressed to my back the entire way. He doesn’t say a word, and the fire between us is a living, breathing thing. My hand is on the door of my office when his arm bands around me, pulling me into his body.
“You open that door, Cara,” he growls, “and we’re not stopping. I don’t care if the club catches on fire. I need to be in you.”
38
CARA
M y mind is being blown over and over again tonight. Declan chipped in at my club, his willingness to help out softened my heart in a way I hadn’t expected. Then watching him strip sent my blood pressure through the roof. Now Dec, sweet, nerdy Dec, is pressing his cock into my ass, grabbing me like he’s about to take what he wants.
Yes, please.
But after all this buildup, you can be damn sure I’m going to make the man work for it.
