Page 21 of Beastly Mr. Buchanan
I push his wrists, but before I can tell him off, he settles his hand on my thigh.With unnerving accuracy, he rubs his thumb along the inner leg seam of my shapewear.The warmth of his palm seeps through the thin material.
I shove his arm, but he doesn’t budge.My soft curves jiggle against his hard muscles.He captures his bottom lip between his teeth and cuts off a groan as my antics rub my ass against his cock.
His massive, hard cock.
Liquid desire pools between my legs.
This isn’t fair.Not only is he relentless, but my own body is working against me.
I close my hands into fists and glare at him.
“I’m not that easy.I’m not a whore.Let me go.”
“I never said you were,” he growls.
“Yeah, well, this—” I gesture to our laps “—is suggesting otherwise.”
“Why?You’re not doing anything wrong,” he says.
The tiny curve of wicked mirth lifting the corner of his lips hints otherwise.
He can’t know I’m wet, right?My panties may be damp—for only the second time in my life—but there’s no way I soaked through.
To my absolute horror, a blush creeps up my face.
“Goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbles.
“I’m taken.This is wrong.Put me down.”
“I already told you: I can’t.”
“And I already told youno!Many times.Different words.All the same meaning.”A band tightens around my chest, and the cloud of depression, which has been strangely absent the past few minutes, casts me in shadows at the thought of never seeing Declan again, but I push onward with sheer desperation.“This is not happening.I will not be yours.Not your wife.Not your girlfriend.Not even your friend.”
The muscles tense in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.As though each movement shreds his soul, he stands, turns, and settles me with my back against the headboard and my legs extended toward the footboard with pillows under my knees.
He looms over me, and for a few milliseconds, my memories transport me back to last night, but Declan drops to his knees beside the bed and props his elbows on the mattress.As though praying to an all-powerful goddess, he weaves his fingers together and bows his head.
“What can I do to earn your friendship?”
The question sideswipes me.My thoughts tumble and swerve in a million directions.
I’ve never met this version of Declan Buchanan before.I don’t know how to handle him.In middle school, I was always the one closing the distance between us.
I swallow my initial response—an emphaticnothing, leave me alone, psycho—and study his build.He’s massive.Bigger than my best friend and his betrothed.
An idea forms.
I should erase it before it solidifies, but the thought of burdening Matthew and Fabio with my issues churns my stomach.They’ll feel responsible for what happened, even though Brad is the only one to blame.Except for maybe me too, since I ignored the warning signs.
All I have are the clothes on my back, my purse, and my phone.At the very least, I need my prescriptions from the apartment.Some clothes, my laptop, and a few toiletries would be nice, too.
It may be the stupidest decision of my adult life, but I wait until Declan raises his head and pierces my soul with his intense grey eyes before I speak.
“If I let you help me, it doesn’t mean I’ll trust you; it means I will consider trusting you.We won’t even be friends after this, and I will not leave my boyfriend.”
He doesn’t need to know I don’t have a boyfriend or that I’ve never had a boyfriend.Even in high school, I was too busy fending off the bullies from both myself and Matthew to even consider dating.
Plus, my overly romantic heart refused to give up on the boy who saved me in middle school.
