Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) (17 page)

BOOK: Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4)
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CHAPTER NINETEEN: WORK ON IT

 

FLYNN SAT IN the car beside me grinning from ear to ear. I had never seen a grown man so excited. I was certain if I looked at his crotch—which was
not
going to happen—he would be sporting a massive hard-on.

Even though Alyssa had begged me to give him this experience, and told me again and again just how badly he’d wanted it, I hadn’t really believed just how desperately until that moment. It might have started with a desire to grant a request from Alyssa—something she’d suggested and something I’d been more than willing to give him—but I hadn’t understood how much it meant to him. Now that I did, I was almost humbled that I could be the one to offer it.

“Now remember,” I said, trying to break the silence, “no cameras and no recording equipment of any kind.”

Flynn nodded and smiled stupidly back at me.

“You’ll need to surrender your mobile phone until it’s over.”

He nodded again.

“And you’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

His grin stretched wider. “I can’t believe this is really happening!”

I couldn’t help grinning back. “It’s really not that big a deal.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s a huge fucking deal!”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured again, suddenly embarrassed about how excited he was. I acted like it was nothing because, to me, it wasn’t that big a deal. It was something I did every day, and now I saw that perhaps I’d become a little too blasé about it.

I pulled into the parking lot at work. “Okay, are you ready to do this?”

His eyes widened as he looked through the windscreen as if he was looking at the gates to Heaven. “I was born ready.”

I thought he might wet himself as we walked through the doors and I directed him to security. Once he had the temporary pass, I led him to Danny’s office. He spent the whole time glancing one way and another as quick as he could. It was almost like his head was on a stick, swivelling from one side to another. The grin on his lips didn’t falter at all.

Danny ran through the formalities, getting Flynn to sign off on the NDA, and then they started talking about some new development that was installed on the ProV8 at the beginning of the year. I knew a thing or two about cars, and since my apprenticeship, a lot more about motors, but I had no idea about what the two of them were discussing.

They spent about ten minutes talking about aerodynamics and downforce before Danny said, “You’ve got some great ideas, you know. Have you ever thought about relocating to Sydney?”

Flynn grinned widely. “Once or twice.”

“Well, if you do, send your résumé to this address”—Danny slid across a business card— “and we’ll see if we have something open in R&D.”

When that happened, I saw they were finishing up their conversation, and I joined back in as Danny welcomed Flynn again and dismissed us from the office.

“Oh, and Declan?” Danny called as my hand was on the doorknob.

“Yeah?” I turned back to him.

“Flynn knows your crew, right?”

I nodded. “They met over the weekend.”

“Well, get him settled in with them and then come back up to see me. I have something I want to discuss with you in private.”

I nodded again. As soon as my back was to Danny though, I swallowed heavily. I had no idea what he wanted to discuss, but “in private” didn’t sound promising. Very few good things had followed his uttering those words.

Still, I did as Danny asked and took Flynn to get him settled with my crew before returning to the office. I didn’t even get the chance to ask what he wanted before he waved his hand at a seat.

“Sit.”

It was an instruction, not a request, so I complied without argument.

“I have some news for you.”

I wanted to ask him to elaborate. At the very least, I needed to know if it was good news or bad news. I nodded in an attempt to get him to keep talking.

“I’ve had a couple of sponsors call up recently, a couple of whom are very interested in getting behind you.”

My heart stopped beating for a second or two as the implications of what he was telling me sunk in. His words from when he offered me the apprenticeship came back into my mind. “
I can’t have you race for my team, Declan. Your latest series of stunts, whether true or not, have generated too much bad press. The sponsors that bring in the most amount of money are the family-friendly ones. You just don’t have anything to offer in that department
.”

“Who?” I asked timidly.

He rattled them off quickly and I had to stifle my grin. One of them was a company that had backed me before everything had turned to shit. If they were willing to get behind me again, well, it boded very well for me. But I tried not to get my hopes up too much; it didn’t necessarily mean anything yet.

“Starting at Townsville, your Micro Challenge vehicle will have corporate support.”

I grinned. It may have been a small step, but it was a step in the right direction. It meant that I was getting attention again, positive attention, and that put me closer to the driver seat of a ProV8.

Danny’s surprises weren’t finished yet. He slid a small pile of paperwork over to me.

I picked it up curiously. “What’s this?” The question had fallen from my lips before I ever had a chance to think it through or read the first page.

“It’s a temporary driver contract. By signing that, you are agreeing to drive one of our ProV8s during the endurance races.”

“Holy fuck!” We’d discussed the possibility of me being the second driver in Morgan’s car, but seeing it printed in black and white made it real.

“Take it home and read it over. If you’re amenable to all the terms, you’re in.”

I practically jumped for joy. “I’m in?” I couldn’t believe how fucking happy those two words made me.

Danny chuckled. “Indeed. And I can imagine there is now a phone call you want to make, so you’re excused.”

I nodded and thanked him for giving me the chance to prove myself. I took the contract—I was going to hold that sucker tight until it was signed and returned to Danny—and ran off to ring Alyssa and give her the good news.

 

FLYNN WAS almost as thrilled as Alyssa had been when I told him my news in the car. I had debated glossing over the subject, but then I decided if I was going to make a legitimate effort to be friends with him, I needed to be genuine. I needed to be open and honest, and that meant allowing him to both celebrate and commiserate with me.

After I’d told him that, he asked me about the bachelor party. “I get it if you don’t want me to come, man, but if it’s ‘cause you think I’ll be uncomfortable in a strip club then don’t be. Just ‘cause I like dick doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the occasional fine female form.”

Oh, God, how to explain it to him?
He was still Alyssa’s friend after all. “It’s not that, seriously it’s not. I’m just, well, I’m not actually having a bachelor party. I haven’t told Alyssa ‘cause I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable that she’s having a hen night.”

He gave me a disbelieving look, but after a moment, his eyes widened and he laughed. “Oh, my God,
the
Declan Reede, eternal bachelor and ladies’ man, isn’t going to have a last hurrah before walking down the aisle?”

I shrugged. “I had my last hurrah long ago, before I asked Alyssa to move in with me. I haven’t been interested in being the ‘eternal bachelor’ since then.”

His nose wrinkled and I could have sworn he was about to say something along the lines of
that’s so sweet
, but I shot him a look to shut him up.

“Fair enough,” he said diplomatically, as if he didn’t really understand it but wasn’t going to press the issue. “Thanks for today though. It was great.”

“Are you going to send in your résumé?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Would you mind if I moved to Sydney?”

“It’s your life. You need to seize any opportunity you want.” I took a deep breath and pushed the small niggle of jealousy I felt out of my mind. “I know the girls would love to have you closer.”

He smiled. “You really have changed, you know?”

Even though he didn’t really know the me I’d been, outside of the gossip rags at least, I appreciated the sentiment.

“I’ll think about it, just don’t tell Alyssa yet, hey? I wouldn’t want to get her hopes up if I decide not to.”

“Sure thing, just so long as you don’t tell her about the no-bachelor-party thing.”

He laughed. “You are probably the only bloke I know who is worried about being caught out
not
wanting to see strippers.”

I chuckled. Put that way, it did sound crazy. But I had my reasons, and I didn’t want to tip Alyssa off early.

 

DESPITE HOW good my birthday bash had been, and how much fun we’d had in the lead-up to leaving for Darwin, my actual birthday weekend was fucking shit. It was stinking hot on the track all weekend, with the afternoon temperatures in excess of thirty degrees Celsius in the shade—in the pits, it was closer to forty. It was fucking June, for fuck’s sake. It was supposed to be winter.

Hunter had given me shit from the moment I’d arrived in Darwin. I tried to put him out of my mind as best as I was able, but it was difficult because he qualified in pole position.

Then he’d gone on to win the first race, which put him in the championship lead.

My Saturday couldn’t have been worse, but at least it ended on a positive note. Eden, Morgan, and I had dinner together in my hotel room. I told Morgan in no uncertain terms that beating Hunter on my birthday would be the best present he could possibly give me.

He’d laughed and told me that it was one birthday wish he was more than happy to grant. We had a few quiet drinks before I told them to get the fuck out of my room, because it was time to call Alyssa.

She and I spoke for an hour before our call slowly became hotter and heavier. I palmed myself anxiously as she talked me through what she was doing to herself. Needless to say, I wanted a live-action replay when I got home.

Hunter came into the pits early on Sunday morning with some dirty skank. He’d announced loudly that she was my birthday present and that he’d warmed her up for me all night long. The worst part was the chick actually thought he was serious and all but threw herself at me. I told her to get the fuck off me, but not before she’d managed to grope me with her fucking quick hands.

Hunter thought it was fucking hilarious and had his phone in hand taking a series of photos as I tried to get the bitch to back the fuck up. A few months earlier, I might have been worried about Alyssa seeing the photos, but with her knowledge of Hunter’s sneaky tricks and the, no doubt, disgusted look on my face, I wasn’t overly anxious. She’d shown trust in me for much more incriminating things—like with Eden where there was a genuine care, even if there was no attraction. I was more concerned with the fact that Hunter wouldn’t just leave me alone to do my fucking job. It was going to cause me trouble in the long run, I was sure of it.

Thankfully, Morgan had won on Sunday. His win, and Hunter’s fourth position, meant Morgan had wrestled back control of the championship.

I could only see a handful of positives coming from the weekend. It was my last race meeting without my Mini until after the wedding. Morgan had retained the championship lead, and my stag night was just two weeks away—even though I wasn’t actually having one.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY: SHE RIDES

 

MY LEG BOUNCED nervously as I waited for my turn in Hell.

I couldn’t think about what I was wearing or I would die of embarrassment. The lights from the stage alternated randomly from red to blue to yellow—a never-ending rainbow of illumination. The colours twisted sickeningly as they reflected off Morgan’s outfit, which gave me another reason not to look at him.

As if I
needed
another reason.

As if his outfit alone wasn’t enough to ensure that I didn’t even glance in his direction.

I was still amazed at how easy it had been to get Morgan onside when I’d told him my idea. All I’d had to do was remind him what Eden would be doing at Alyssa’s bachelorette party, and he’d jumped right on board. But he’d surprised me when he’d suggested that he go alongside me—or more precisely,
before
me.

Eden was a little bit more difficult to get onside, but she was the key to everything. I knew that unless I could win her over, I didn’t really stand a chance of pulling off my planned gatecrash. While finalising arrangements with Morgan, it became clear that she could give me an in, and would be more likely to accommodate me than Ruby would ever be. I hadn’t approached her until the Darwin races.

When she was on a high about Morgan’s win, I struck. I’d sworn her to secrecy before I even told her what I was planning. But once I’d spilled the beans about what I wanted to do, she’d laughed. Then I told her that if I didn’t do this, Morgan would probably organise me a proper bachelor party . . . and who knew what would happen then?

I wasn’t sure whether it was the thought of Morgan’s participation or my humiliation that caused her to agree in the end. Maybe it was both. I didn’t really care, because I got my wish. Although, I was seriously fucking regretting making the decision, but it was way too late to back out.

I just hoped the plan didn’t end in a disaster like the last time I’d made plans behind Alyssa’s back—on New Year’s Eve. This time was different though; this time, the few confidants I’d told thought the plan wasn’t terrible. Even Dr. Henrikson had chuckled, questioned how I think Alyssa might react, and then given his support. Of course, I’d told him during the same session where I’d been worked into knots about the fact that Alyssa didn’t want to have another baby, so he might have been a little more concerned about that. 

The music started, and I rolled my eyes at Morgan’s choice. How fucking predictable. He’d turned his surfer- boy looks into a country-boy thing that he was going to use to his advantage. If the guy wasn’t a fucking great driver, he probably could have turned a dollar or two doing what he was about to go out and do for free.

As he stood he leaned over to me. “You owe me for this. Big time.”

I turned my gaze away so he couldn’t see me biting my lip to stop from laughing at his outfit. I was also turning away so I didn’t have to look at said outfit. Under no circumstances should shiny silver chaps ever be allowed to be worn by a man.

Not ever.

Especially not shiny silver chaps with fucking tassels down the sides and nothing but a G-string underneath.

Then there was the matching silver-glitter cowboy hat. Why he’d picked that costume was far beyond me. Maybe it had always been a deep-seated desire of his to be a fucking shiny wannabe cowboy. I just hoped the silver mask around his eyes would stop Alyssa from recognising him long enough for me to get out there for my turn.

As the first chorus of Morgan’s song started, I heard what sounded like every fucking woman in the house clap their hands and sing the words. I rolled my eyes. I guess Big & Rich got something right—some girls loved to ride the cowboys.

Morgan’s song neared the end far too quickly.

By the time the final chorus came over the speakers, my nerves were practically eating me alive as I pulled on the gloves that matched my outfit. Fucking red vinyl. It was fucking tight, but at least it wasn’t shiny. It looked like a very tight, very red version of my racing suit, but unlike my normal suit, it wasn’t a one-piece. There were at least four pieces to the outfit, each of them able to be removed separately.

And in a flash.

My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as Morgan’s song drew to a close. I wasn’t sure whether the appreciative catcalls he was getting made me feel better or worse. All I could focus on was that his moment in the spotlight was ending and mine was about to begin.

Why the fuck did I think this would be a good idea?

I slid my helmet on. It was a lightweight costume one so it wouldn’t hinder my moves, but at least it would hide my identity.

Seconds later, Morgan raced back off the stage. He held his hat clutched to his groin and wasn’t wearing a skerrick of clothing, at least none that I could see and definitely not enough for me to be comfortable in his presence. I couldn’t be certain whether he’d taken everything off himself, or if he’d been attacked. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know, but I sure as hell didn’t want to ask.

“Man, those girls are nuts!” he exclaimed, grinning goofily. “Good luck out there.”

He scuttled off, no doubt in search of some pants. Then again, maybe he was meeting Eden for a private encore.

Again, I really didn’t want to know.

“Who likes a man who knows how to handle curves?” I heard the emcee start the introduction. “I know there’s one little lady here who has the hots for things that go
fast
. I give you our red-hot racer!”

The first few bars of my song came on, the steady drumbeat, and I put all thoughts of embarrassment out of my mind. The wailing guitar had started by the time I reached the stage.

I was doing this for Alyssa, even if she didn’t know it was me.

Better her hands explored my semi-naked, G-string-clad arse than some random stripper dude’s. Before I knew it, the girls were hollering for me to “take it off,” and I was bumping and grinding my way toward the only woman I had eyes for.

I took my time crossing the small stage to where Alyssa sat front and centre. The lyrics still hadn’t kicked in, but I was gyrating my hips to the beat of “She Rides” like nobody’s business.

When I was close enough to see all the details, I took a moment to regard Alyssa’s outfit. The black dress she was wearing was wickedly short, but only because of the way she was leaning back on her seat, her face hidden behind her hands while she cringed at the stage.

The veil that Ruby had no doubt made her wear was red-and-black netting with little pink charms dangled intermittently along the edges. When I looked closer, I realised that the little “charms” were in fact small plastic penises. I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

I was three-quarters of the way to Alyssa when I reached out and ripped off the top of my outfit. I saw her eyes gaze appreciatively across my exposed chest and abdomen. All that was left on my top half was a loose vest that rose high enough to cover the tattoo on my back so Alyssa wouldn’t recognise me too readily. I danced my way a little closer, close enough to touch her. I gently grabbed her hand and ran it along my stomach. She flinched and looked away. 

Good.
At least she wasn’t enjoying the show. Even if it was me beneath everything, it wasn’t like she knew that yet.

I pulled her other hand away from her face and trailed them both down my stomach, allowing her fingers to hit the muscles of my six-pack. I was sure she must have known it was me by the way my skin danced beneath her touch. No one else’s fingers had ever done to me what hers could, and I was certain it was the same for her. She had to feel the connection, even if she didn’t recognise the feel of my muscles beneath her fingertips.

She was mesmerized by the waistband of the bottom half of the suit, so I pressed her hands gently underneath the material. The girls around her were squealing and hollering, but a sly grin crossed her face, and she looked up at me. I could see the recognition in her eyes, but obviously she’d decided to play along.

Her hands bunched into fists, holding the material tightly.

“Pull,” I whispered, and she did.

The entire bottom half of my outfit ripped away, leaving me standing in nothing but red gloves, the small red vest, a red helmet and a red G-string. I couldn’t help the fact that I was incredibly turned on with Alyssa right in front of me, oh so close to all the areas I wanted her to lavish attention on. I grabbed her hands and ran them along my thighs. She shocked the hell out of me by leaning in and kissing my stomach. Unconsciously, I thrust my hips against her.

Her hands circled around the backs of my thighs and pulled my body closer still as I gyrated and danced in front of her. I groaned as she peppered small kisses along my stomach.

“Alyssa!” Ruby exclaimed, calling my attention back to the fact that we were not alone. “Watching is one thing! Declan would flip if he knew you were
handling
the strippers.”

Alyssa laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. I think Dec would be okay with this.”

I reached down with one gloved hand and stroked her cheek tenderly. Then I busted out my best stripper moves and ground against the bride-to-be. My dick was straining to be released, but that could wait until I had Alyssa back in the privacy of our hotel room.

My body cried out knowing that wouldn’t happen until at least the following night. But I understood this was Alyssa’s hen night, and even though it was all I wanted to do, I wasn’t about to steal her away from her friends.

As my song drew to a close, I jumped back up onto the stage and did a little dance for the benefit of the other girls. I knew they wanted me. Half of the girls in the club were practically leaping out of their seats like cartoon wolves with bugging-out eyes and thumping hearts in their chests. But none of them would ever see any more of me.

None of them would touch me.

None of them—save one.

I blew Alyssa a final kiss and gave a little bow before I exited the stage.

I was back in the dressing room getting dressed when the club manager came up to me.

“You two boys made a great impression tonight. If you ever want to consider doing this full-time, I’ll be more than happy to take you on.”

I laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. It was a one-time affair.”

He shrugged. “I have one more offer for you. One of the girls has asked for a private lap dance.”

I shook my head. “Definitely not. Despite doing this, I am a one-woman man.”

“She said you’d probably say that. She also asked me to tell you to reconsider. She gave me this and said to tell you this time, she would be the one doing the moves.” He held out his hand and I saw one of the plastic penises that had been dangling from Alyssa’s veil.

I’d never been happier to see a fucking penis in all my life.

BOOK: Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4)
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