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But instead, he yanked it away. “I said, stop calling me that! And I want you out of my house before I call the cops.”
“Geez, what’s biting your ass? Just last night, you said you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with me. What happened to that?”
“Gone. Dead. All of it. Please leave.”
Slowly and heartbroken, Kaitlyn swung her bare legs over the bed and dragged herself off. She bent down to retrieve her bra, and as she did, Declan couldn’t help but grow stiff staring at the way her tight naked body glowed in the sunlight. But he knew he had to be strong. He didn’t have feelings for this girl; it’s all physical. And he knew that one slip of the tongue could cause her to climb back into bed. No, he couldn’t have that.
“What’s with all these pictures of Tara Bardot?” Kaitlyn asked as she found herself staring at Declan’s office area. She chuckled, “I thought only little girls liked her. You suddenly into makeup and fashion?”
Declan’s eyes widened. He quickly rushed over to Kaitlyn and pushed her toward the front door, one final nudge to get her to the other side. “Bye, Kaitlyn.” Without waiting for an answer, he slammed the door in her face.
He turned back around, coming face-to-face with the pictures on his wall. No one else was supposed to see this. This was supposed to be his own secret, his dark secret hidden from the rest of the world. From the base of his desk up to the ceiling, and encompassing an entire wall, were pictures of Tara Bardot, with images taken directly from her social media page to screenshots of her streams; Declan had an entire memorial dedicated to the influencer herself. He reached out and tugged off a picture of Tara in a bikini. So smoking hot, he thought. If only you were mine.
His phone rang, the sound of a message. He leapt onto his bed, still completely nude, and unlocked it. And there it was. Staring at him right in the face.
Tara Bardot: Hey, Declan! I’m Tara. Wanna grab a drink later?
TARA
“I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED familiar! Remember me?” The man behind her said when she spun around.
It took a minute for Tara to recognize the face staring back at her. “Declan? You wrote your number on my coffee cup.”
“I did! And you never called me back!”
“I know. Sorry, things have been pretty rough the past few weeks.”
He placed a hand on the small of her back. She shivered.
“Hey, no worries. Fate brought us together instead. I guess it’s meant to be. What’s your drink?” He gestured her toward the bar.
Tara tensed her shoulders as she followed him. She wasn’t sure what to think. Sure, Declan was extremely handsome and such a gentleman, but she also partly blamed him for ruining her marriage.
If only he’d never written down his fucking number.
However, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she knew that, deep down, her marriage was ruined way before she ever met Declan.
“Long Island,” she said, giving him a weak smile.
“Talk to me, Tara.”
“About what?”
“Last time I saw you, you were skirting away from me to meet your husband. Now, you’re messaging me on a hookup app and chilling in the swankiest, and might I add, sexiest, club in all of New York City. What gives?”
“Things changed. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
She took a sip of her drink. Her head started feeling woozy as she did, but she blamed the single granola bar she’d eaten the entire day, too nervous about her night out to really stomach anything else.
As her vision focused in and out, she could hardly make out the words he was saying, and it wasn’t until he leaned over and kissed her did she remember where she was. He leaned into her ear, whispered a long slur followed by the word place, and led her off her seat and out the back door of the club.
“Wait… Ash…,” Tara began to mumble, but before anyone could answer her, she found herself tripping on her heels as Declan led her into a cab parked outside.
The thirty-minute ride back to his place felt surreal, like her mind was floating outside her own body, soaring high in the sky and dancing in circles around the cab. It felt as if her ethereal self was trying to tell her something, but the blasting music and voracious slobbers of Declan’s wet kisses on her neck and face distracted her, pulling her away from her own conscience.
“I’m gonna make you forget all about that husband of yours,” he whispered into her ear as he nibbled on it.
She felt her body fall victim to his roaming hands, with all her inhibitions and wariness of who this man was completely thrown out the window and crushed under the public bus behind them. She let herself go, sinking to his every touch, and he knew it, dragging down the straps of her dress as his lips explored her shoulders.
