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“We need the church. Try not to fuck everything up.”
CHAPTER THREE
EVE
“M’fhíorghrá,” Declan whispers, tracing his fingers across my forehead and down my cheeks.
He’s laying next me on a soft blanket in the middle of a meadow full of lupines and poppies. It’s our secret spot, the one place we can go where nothing else exists. He’s propped up on his elbow; his body practically sloped over mine. He’s so close, yet no other part of him is touching me. It’s almost like he’s afraid, but Declan Gallagher isn’t afraid of anyone.
Declan smiles, moving slightly to block the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. When he’s around he blocks out the whole world. It’s just him and me. There’s no room for anything else.
No parents. No judgment. No one telling me how to dress or act.
He brings me a sense of calm, of freedom. He makes me feel safe.
I lean into him, closing my eyes and losing myself, drowning in his scent, his presence, his light, and the darkness that surrounds him. “What does that mean? M’fhíorghrá?”
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl.” His lips ghost over my temple and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
I always want him closer, his hands on me, his lips on mine. These stolen moments with him are never enough, but I understand why we have to hide our relationship from everyone. He’s the bad boy from the poor side of town, and my dad is the mayor. I live in a mansion on top of the hill, and he lives in a tiny apartment with his grandmother.
On paper we don’t work, and if my dad found out we were together, he’d lock me in my room and I’d really be a prisoner.
Declan’s hand grips my waist but he’s quick to break contact. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your dress.”
“I don’t care about a dress, Declan.”
He doesn’t respond. He just rests his hand on my thigh.
Being with him makes me wish I was someone else, that there wasn’t such a big divide between us.
I don’t want this life—the parties, the ass-kissing, the pretentiousness of the upper class. I don’t want to be watched all the time. I don’t want to be a slave to my parents and their whims. I want to be free. I want to be with him.
“We should run away together.”
His brows draw together as he studies my face, cradling my cheek with his palm and brushing a thumb over my lips. His touch is soft, gentle, and sometimes I wish he’d realize I’m not as delicate as he thinks. “I can’t take you away from your family. Your life.”
“You are my life.”
“But high school? College? You have dreams, Eve.”
I brush my lips across his, the barest touch, the lightest whisper, before pulling back and looking into his deep brown eyes. He doesn’t let another second pass before he’s on me, rolling his body on top of mine and moaning into my mouth, thrusting his tongue alongside mine. He’s owning me, consuming me, setting my entire body on fire, and all I know is that I want him.
I will always want him.
His free hand is back on me, trailing up from my waist to the underside of my breasts. His touch is tentative, but as soon as I think he’s going to finally touch me the way I want, he stops and pulls back.
“Eve.” He says my name like a prayer, his forehead resting on mine.
“Declan.” I run my fingers through his hair and down the nape of his neck. “I can go to college anywhere.” I close my eyes and turn my head. If this isn’t it, if I’m the reason he doesn’t want to run away, I can’t bear to see it. “Unless you don’t want me.”
“Impossible, M’fhíorghrá. I will want you till the day I die. You’re it for me.”
“Then show me, Declan.” I wrap my legs around his waist and rub myself along the length of his erection. “I love you. Make me yours.”
He’s silent for several seconds as the wind blows, rustling our clothes and the wildflowers around us. Just when I think he’s going to tell me we should head back to the city, he smiles. “I love you so fucking much. I need you to be sure, Eve, because I know once I sink into your heavenly body, I’ll never be able to let you go.”
I nod quickly, not breaking eye contact. “Make me yours, Declan.”
