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I lift our interlocked hands in the air to remind him of our duty. “The reporter we came here to pretend in front of.”
“No.”
“I knew it! You can stop lying now.”
“Lying about what?”
“We didn’t come here so a reporter could see us, did we?”
His eyes lighten. “Why else would we come here?”
“Because you wanted to take me out on a date, but you didn’t want to admit it was that in the first place just in case I rejected you, so you made up this whole elaborate story so I wouldn’t ask questions.”
“Is narcissism genetic or is our child safe from that awful personality trait?”
The way he says “our child” sends a wave ofsomethingthrough me that I refuse to acknowledge. “Depends. If we’re going based on paternal history, they are screwed from the start.”
He reaches out and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “Hopefully they inherit their mother’s selflessness instead.”
I officially raise the white flag as I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss him.
32
IRIS
We sit in silence during the entire drive back to the house. I’m not sure what to say, and Declan looks about one comment away from fucking me in his mom’s car, so I stay quiet.
My heart rate reaches a critical level by the time he drives into the garage, and I’m out of breath as he pulls me out of the car and straight into the house.
He moves so fast. One moment I’m blinking up at him, the next I’m being pushed up against a wall. My spine tingles from the momentum.
“Tell me what you want.” His crazed expression does something insane to my insides.
My heart thuds against my chest, my pulse thundering with each beat. I lose all ability to speak. The way he stares at me, with his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring with each ragged breath, makes me shiver.
“I’m not sure.”
He lets out a groan as he steps away.
I miss his warmth instantly. “Declan—” I reach out to touch him, but he grabs both my wrists and locks them above my head.
“You haven’t earned the right to touch me yet.”
“And you have?”
He traces the column of my neck with his free hand, and my whole body lights up like a firework. “I’m not scared to claim what’s mine.”
“I’m not afraid.” Not anymore. I’m done with the back and forth. The uncertainty is driving me crazy, and it isn’t fair to him. He planned a date for me and pretended it was a fake one just so I would go. I don’t think anyone has done something so sweet for me ever.
“Prove it then.” He releases my wrists.
“Strikhedonia.”I no doubt butcher the pronunciation, but it seems to draw a genuine smile from Declan nonetheless.
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and drag his lips toward mine. Compared to our first kiss, Declan lets me take the lead. It’s tentative at first. Nothing but a few soft presses of my lips against his, each becoming progressively more desperate on my end. He doesn’t make a move to touch me, and my skin itches for connection. His silent challenge to prove how much I want him plays in the back of my mind as I trace his bottom lip with the edge of my tongue.
I never thought I would crave his touch as much as I do at this moment, and I find myself growing irritated with how much control he exudes over the situation.
That won’t do. The tips of my fingers tingle with the need to touch himeverywhere. My hands grow bolder as I drag my fingers down his shirt, straight toward the bulge beneath his pants. He releases a shuddery breath as I trace the outline of his length. I use the opportunity to tease his tongue with mine, and the results are miraculous.
