“Have fun,” Decklan said, ignoring the suggestion. He wasn’t in the mood. Hadn’t been for a long time, but especially since that night. Since Amanda.
He glanced around the room, familiar with all the spaces and places in the club. The St. Andrews cross on the wall was occupied, a dark-haired female getting pleasure from absorbing pain. His gaze slid onward. A group of men sitting and talking, their subs at their feet. A quick look confirmed she wasn’t one of them. His emotions were already frayed tonight, and if he found her with someone else, he couldn’t promise himself he’d keep a handle on his temper.
He ordered a Glen Livet on the rocks and tried to put his night with her in perspective. Chemistry. They’d had that in spades. But there was something more to her. A strength combined with a vulnerability he didn’t see often. They’d clicked in bed and out. He’d had fun with her, a word he never associated with sex. And most important, the thing that unnerved him the most, she tempted him to want her touch. To free her from the restraints so he could feel her soft hands on his cock, her nails at his back, and her arms wrapped securely around him.
Shit. He shouldn’t be here. Didn’t need that kind of intensity and seriousness in his life.
She wasn’t here again, something he took as a sign. Definitely time to go.
He stood, pushed back his chair, turned, and saw Amanda paused at the threshold to the main room. His breath left on a whoosh of air, the unexpected sight of her, when he’d all but given up, a shock to his system.
Over the last few weeks, he wondered if he’d exaggerated the memory of her affect on him. No such luck.
Her head bowed, hands clasped together, she was clearly working up the nerve to enter. And every muscle in his body tightened at the sight.
She finally lifted her gaze and glanced around the room, her stare lingering on various places and people, just as he’d done earlier. And then she looked toward the bar. The sounds around him, the people, the lights, everything dimmed. There was only her.
Whatever it was, it was still there.
He’d waited for this moment, and now that it was here? Decklan had never backed away from a challenge. He wasn’t about to do so now.
SIX
Breathe, breathe, breathe, Amanda told herself. But the very sight of Decklan was both a relief and sent her into panic mode at the same time. His dark eyes slid over her, and for a brief second, she feared he was going to dismiss her. She’d unravel if he did.
Then he slowly walked across the room. All the air left her lungs. She hadn’t imagined one thing about him or the intense physical attraction he inspired. Today he wore the same type of outfit, black denim and a black tee shirt that hugged his masculine, well-defined body. She had no doubt he worked out, and she still wanted to feel those hard muscles beneath her hands. If he’d let her.
He strode up, so close she was enveloped in his delicious scent, and all her strategic female parts went on red alert. Her nipples suddenly ached for his hands, his mouth, his teeth.
“Tell me you came here for me,” he said, not beating around the bush. At all.
She could deny it and prolong the inevitable, but why bother? “I came here for you,” she admitted.
“Any reason to stay?” he asked.
She shook her head.
A low growl of satisfaction escaped his throat, and he grasped her elbow. “Let’s go.”
When he began his dominant male routine, she fell in line. It was part of what attracted her to him, beyond his stunning looks. He wasn’t afraid to be himself, to tell her what he wanted from her, and damned if her body didn’t respond. In fact, her sex was throbbing right now.
Add to that she knew there was a heart inside of him, a man who’d lost his parents at a crucial age, who, like her, held himself apart, and their bond was formed.
The club was located on the east side of Manhattan, discreetly set inside a townhouse where nobody would think twice about what was going on there. Since she hadn’t gone into the locker rooms, she hadn’t changed into her attire. Leaving was as simple as stepping out the front door.
As soon
as they walked outside, the summer heat wafted up from the sidewalk, blanketing her in stifling temperatures.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Just walking. For now.”
She nodded and noticed he slowed his longer pace to match hers. They weren’t far from Fifth Avenue, and he turned there, heading toward Central Park South, which was nearby.
It was heavy and humid, typical Manhattan in the summertime, which explained why so many locals departed for the beaches. She didn’t mind the steamy weather, happy to be with the man she’d been having erotic dreams about for weeks. She was also aroused and had been from the minute she’d looked into his hot gaze. His hand, which now rested on her back, merely increased the burn. The silence between them was as thick as the air and just as electrically charged.
She searched for conversation, for a way to get him to open up a little more, but came up empty. If she pushed him for information about himself, he’d likely do the same to her. She sighed, swallowing back frustration that her life wasn’t her own. But she’d chosen things this way, and if it meant taking care of Brad the way he did for her, she was okay with that. But she still intended to make the most of whatever time she could grab with Decklan. She deserved at least that.