She watched as he tore open a condom packet and rolled it down over his erection. His hands skimmed down over her body, tracing the shape, as if fixing it in his memory. She kept her eyes open because she didn't want to miss a second of this, even when he kissed her again and she could see the black ring around his silver irises, the faint shadow of stubble on his cheek.
He shifted to lie over her, his weight balanced on his elbows, one knee pressing between her thighs, widening her legs. She felt the broad head of his cock, scalding hot, push between the folds of her sex, sliding against the slippery wetness until it found the entrance to her body and hovered there. She shifted her hips, restless for more, and he pushed in just a little bit farther. Then he sighed and sank his length into her, filling her completely.
She'd always played an active part during sex, but now she lay immobile, absorbing the sensations washing through her. The exquisite drag of his cock as he pulled out, the delicious friction as he shoved back in, the almost unbearable pleasure as he ground against her clit with each stroke. He wasn't touching her anywhere else now, just gazing down into her eyes, his expression almost tortured.
Tingles were spreading through her body, swirling, coalescing. She could sense the slow, inexorable buildup of pleasure, knew he felt it as well in the tightening of his muscles, but still he kept his strokes slow and steady, until she was shifting restlessly under him, reaching for her release.
His mouth opened, but she didn't want words and she wrapped a hand around his neck, pulled him down for a kiss.
Finally, his spine arched and he came, pulsing inside her, grinding against her, tipping her over the edge, so the pleasure swelled and burst, shattering her into a million pieces.
Long minutes later, he flung himself onto his side and pulled her hard against him, curving his big body around hers, fitting her against him. Just a few minutes and she'd tell him to leave. But the sleepless nights caught up with her, and wrapped in his arms, she drifted off into sleep. She had no clue how much later it was when she woke again to waves of pleasure undulating through her body. Declan was still behind her, one big hand cupped her breast, rubbing the nipple, the other was between her legs. One finger was inside, stroking her inner walls while the pad of his thumb traced lazy circles over her clit. As if he sensed she was awake, he increased the pressure, pushing another finger inside, massaging the swollen bud. She didn't fight the swell of pleasure, just let it wash over her in warm, delicious waves.
While she still pulsated from her orgasm, he withdrew his hand, lifted her thigh, and pushed into her from behind. She gasped as he filled her, then gave herself over to the pleasure. His fingers tugged at her nipples, pinching and then soothing, while his mouth and tongue traced wet patterns on her neck and her shoulders.
As the tension built, he touched her lightly between the thighs and she came again, feeling his cock swell, then pulse with his own release.
She lay, half beside him, half beneath him. Some inner sense was warning her that she needed to move, but this felt so perfect, so right and instead, she pushed back against him as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I love you." The declaration whispered across her skin, sank into her mind, and she had to blink back the tears.
At least he couldn't see the effect his words had on her. Because if he did, she doubted she would ever make him go, and suddenly she needed him gone.
Because she could feel herself cracking and breaking all over again.
She wiped all expression from her face, pulled herself free, and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. "It's time for you to go."
Shock flared in his face, followed by a flash of anger. "Are you telling me you feel nothing?"
She bit her lip. "Didn't you listen to a word I said earlier? It doesn't matter what I feel. I won't allow this to go any further. I can't." Maybe it was time for those tears after all. She blinked, allowed one to roll down over her cheek and he almost recoiled in horror.
"Jess?"
She sniffed.
"I did this to you? Talk to me."
She swallowed. Maybe it was time to tell him the rest. "Did you ever wonder why I was coming to see you that night? The night I had the accident."
"I presumed you were just coming to try and patch things up."
"I was pregnant."
His face went blank. "What?"
"Only a few weeks, but I'd taken at least three tests." And God, she'd been so happy, thrilled, excited at the thought of Declan's baby. She'd known he would do the right thing, wouldn't abandon them, and by that point she would have done anything to get him back. She didn't want to be that person again.
"What happened?"
"I lost it." And only then had she realized how much she had desperately wanted the baby and not just as a means of keeping Declan.
"In the accident?"
"Maybe. But the doctor said it might have happened anyway. It does sometimes, and it was so early, just a handful of cells."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know about the miscarriage when you visited. I was still in shock from the accident. Then you said it was over … again. And I realized I wanted you to stay because you wanted me and not because it was the right thing to do. But after I got out of hospital, I was hurting and I needed you so badly. I would have even accepted the friendship thing at that point. I was so pathetic."
"And I was gone."
"You were. I saw Rory and he basically told me to take the hint and leave you alone. Anyway, I had no way of contacting you so I decided to take his advice. But it hurt. So excuse me if I don't want to lay myself open to that again."
"It wouldn't-"
But she'd had enough. "Please go, Declan. Please. I can't take any more."
He looked at her for an age longer, then gave a brisk nod of his head. "I'll go, as long as you promise you'll come tomorrow night."
Tomorrow night was his father's birthday, and there was to be a big party at the club. The last night before Declan was due to give evidence at the trial. And then this would all be over.
"I'll be there."
He rolled to his feet, raked a hand through his hair-it was growing longer-he hadn't had it cut since they'd met again, and now it tousled over his forehead. Naked, he was spectacular, and she didn't try to look away. Would she ever see him like this again? The thought that this might be the last time was like a black cloud engulfing her mind. But that only made her more determined to get out before she went beyond the point of turning back.
He picked up his clothes, and dragged them on, sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes, and then his gaze fixed on something on her wall.
She followed the look and her breath caught in her throat. Declan rose slowly to his feet and took a step closer, then reached out and unhooked the frame from the wall, examined it closely.
"My father gave you this?"
"That day I went to see him. It doesn't matter anymore."
He gave her a look as if to say she was crazy. "You've had this for over ten years, you put it on your goddamned bedroom wall, and you say it doesn't matter."
She had no clue how to answer. Unfortunately Declan wasn't quite so reticent.
He shook his head. "I can't believe he gave you this." He waved the check in her face.
"He was doing what he thought was right for you."
He gritted his teeth. "How the fucking hell dare you defend him?" He pulled the frame apart, took out the check, and tucked it into his back pocket. "Just make sure you're there tomorrow night. Or I'll come looking."
And he was gone.
Chapter Twelve
Declan hovered outside the bedroom door, unsure whether to go back in. But his brain was about to explode. And he needed out of there before that happened, causing who knew what damage.
Except for that one brief interlude with Jess, all his life, he'd kept his emotions under rigid control. Not allowed himself to feel, done his goddamned fucking duty. Done what his father expected of him.
Now that control was slipping away.
She'd been seventeen years old and pregnant with his baby. And he'd walked away. She'd had a miscarriage and endured it alone. Because he'd been too much of a pussy to go after what he wanted.
He couldn't believe his own father had given Jess money to leave him alone. Except who was he kidding? His father was a ruthless bastard. Always had been. But it was hardly his father's fault-well not all of it. He'd been the one to walk. But he wouldn't do that a second time, no matter what she believed she wanted.
She made him feel alive. She was the only thing that ever had and his life since had been gray and meaningless. A performance he put on for the rest of the world. Only Jess saw through it.
She'd been right the other night when she'd told him he needed to change. He just wasn't sure how. Maybe he needed to take a leap into the unknown. And he'd be happy to do that with Jess at his side.
He glanced back at the door, but then turned away.
He'd told her he loved her.
He'd never said that to any woman except Jess.
And she said it didn't matter. But it was all that mattered. And she meant what she said. She really planned to finish this thing between them.
He had to leave, give her some space. Think about what he could do to make her give him a chance. Maybe he should steal a car. Take her joyriding. Get them both locked up. Or maybe not.
But right now she had worked herself up, put an insurmountable barrier between them, which she wouldn't let him pass. He could only hope that she would think about his words.