Never Been Ready (5 page)

"So, what are you going to do?" Clare asked.

She knew full well that my dismissal the other evening wasn't the last I'd see of Declan James. My body and mind wouldn't allow it. Saying no to him had taken almost every bit of will I had. I was drawn to him, and it was just a matter of time before I found myself at that hotel, knocking on his door.

I needed this time to form a plan —or at least to make him sweat it out a bit. I couldn't be his sloppy seconds or his late-night booty call. I didn't want a relationship, but I wouldn't be a doormat either. I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. I wanted to run as quickly and as far away as possible, knowing he could end me if he tried, yet the more I told myself to stay away, the more I wanted to throw caution to the wind and get to that hotel as quickly as possible. After Daniel, my college sweetheart that turned out to be anything but and a childhood of mistrust —thanks to a father who really gave definition to the word
deadbeat
—I couldn't afford to give my trust to another man who didn't deserve it.

"I don't know, but I do know one thing. It will be on my fucking terms."

~Declan~

"Just get it fucking done!" I roared, causing the personal assistant on the other end of the line to whimper in fear.

He sputtered off an acknowledgment, and I ended the call, sighing in frustration. I paced the floor of the hotel room that would be home for the next three months. I was usually calm and fairly easygoing. At times, I was intense maybe, but I was never one to cause a PA to piss himself with my voice alone. Angry and pissed-off Declan was a new thing. The people on the set didn't know how to react, and personally, I didn't either.

I had managed to screw up every one of my lines at the read-through yesterday, gotten in an argument with my director, and even pissed off the caterer because there wasn't enough coffee. I was now known as the bitchy diva on the set.
Fucking great
.

I couldn't concentrate. I was restless, irritable, and so goddamn horny.

Leah had said no. She had fucking said no...to me. In my entire adult life, I'd never been turned down by a woman I had pursued. Call me cocky, but when I put my sights on something, I always got my prize. I'd stepped off the plane that night, ready to put Leah Morgan in my past. She was an aching need I couldn't squelch, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into those silky thighs once more, so I could walk away a cured man. But then, she'd opened that door, wearing a bathrobe and slippers, with a mug in her hand, looking absolutely dumbstruck. It was...well, adorable.
Fuck! I hated that word.

Seeing her flustered and off her game had given me great pleasure. It reminded me of the quiet woman I'd met that night in the bar. I'd thought,
This will be easy, simple. I'll be cured by morning, ready to start fresh and begin my life again —free of Leah Morgan.

I had taken advantage of her shock, playing into her bewildered reaction to my surprising presence. I'd stalked her, reminding her of how good we had been together that night, and her body had instantly blossomed under my touch. I'd had her in my grasp. Everything had been perfect.

And then, she'd said no. Her eyes had heated in anger, and she had taken a firm stance that had clearly backed up her words. It had taken a total one-eighty from the woman I'd just seduced not a minute before. I was learning there were many sides to Leah Morgan.

I'd never felt so angry, frustrated, and more turned-on in my entire life. No? What the hell? I couldn't leave, but I couldn't stay. I'd practically thrown my hotel information at her before walking out the door. As the door had clicked into place, I'd heard her curse in frustration, and I'd known that this wasn't over.

She was playing me or simply delaying the inevitable, and it would only be a matter of time before she came knocking on my door, begging me for more. I just had to wait it out. She'd be crawling back to my hotel, begging me to take her, in a day, two tops. I couldn't contain the all-out grin I had spread all over my face that night as I'd driven back to my hotel.

But now, it had been a week —a motherfucking week. I didn't play games, and I wasn't a patient man. This cat-and-mouse game was making me restless, but I still couldn't back down. No matter how many women passed me in the hotel lobby, giving me a shy smile and wave, I couldn't give in. Even a blatant invite from my costar to visit her trailer had gotten nothing in return. I couldn't do it. I had unfinished business, and it demanded closure.

But now, it had been a week, and I felt like a fool.
Did she think this was funny? Was I a fucking joke to her? Did I misread the signals? Maybe she wasn't coming at all.

Declan James wasn't some pussy who waited around for a woman. Women waited around for me, and it was time I got back in the game. This addiction or infatuation I had would cure itself over time.
Screw this. I was done waiting.

After giving myself a pep talk that even I didn't believe, I made about fifty laps around my room trying to get my head in the game. Then, I threw on my leather jacket and stalked over to the front door, setting my sights for the hotel bar. It was an upscale hotel, and single women were always mingling around, hoping to score a lonely rich man on a business trip. Feeling much less excited than I should be, considering I was headed downstairs to pick up an easy lay, I opened the door and nearly ran headfirst into a stunned Leah, who had her fist raised in the air like she was about to knock.

"Holy shit! You just about killed me!" she yelled.

I steadied us both in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

The look on her face abruptly changed from stunned to pissed, and I realized my question sounded more than a little rude.

"Sorry. I meant to say, how did you get up here, alone?"

I had left instructions with the front desk not to let anyone up without calling me first. I was booked under an alias. It sounds crazy, but there were all kinds of new requirements in the shitty life I'd acquired.

Leah grinned widely as we walked into the room.

"Men," she answered. "I can pretty much talk them into doing anything. And it just so happened that men were working the front desk, and they were very accommodating when I told them I wanted to surprise my boyfriend with an impromptu striptease, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise with a call."

"That's bullshit. That seriously didn't work," I countered.

"Oh, but it did. All I had to do was say the word
striptease
, and I had them eating out of my hand."

Much like I had done at her house, she settled herself on the sofa, making herself comfortable without asking permission. She had her spunk back tonight. Dressed in a low-cut black sweater, a short pink skirt, and heels, she looked fierce and very tempting. The flustered girl I'd walked in on last week was gone, and Leah, the firecracker I'd met in bed all those months ago, was back. Having met both sides of her now, I couldn't decide which I liked better.

"So, when exactly do I get my striptease?" I asked.

"Well, that's up to you, Hotshot."

"Hotshot?"

"Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition, and sexy as fuck —it's a good nickname."

"All right, so what are your terms, Leah?"

I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself from just saying,
Fuck it
, and pinning her against the wall before she could lay down any terms or requirements. Because whatever she was about to say, I was going to agree. She didn't know it, but she had my balls in her perfect little hands, and I was at her fucking mercy. I both hated and wanted her at the same time. She made me feel out of control and weak with need. I couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk away.

"I will not be an easy fuck whenever you get too lazy to find a new bimbo for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed, wondering where you've been and what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting," she declared.

Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to hear.

"I want to be exclusive with you —for however long we decide to do this. I don't care about labels or dates. You don't have to take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The only thing I ask is that, for the time we are together, you are mine."

"Yes," I answered immediately, surprising us both.

"Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out or temper tantrum, Declan?"

"No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one request,"

I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers, and I heard her breath falter.

"And what's that, Hotshot?"

"Make it two," I amended. "First, the same rules apply to you. While we're together, for however long, you're mine, Leah," I purred against her ear.

Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged, giving me a quick sense of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and collected exterior.

"And second?" she asked timidly.

"Don't fucking call me Hotshot."

She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before saying, "So not happening, Hotshot."

~Leah~

He stood and circled the room like a predator stalking prey. I was the gazelle, and he was the hungry lion. I could still remember the feel of his lips from last week when they'd moved against my neck, so soft and warm. It had been six months, but every detail had been memorialized in my memory —every touch, every moan, every earth-shattering second.

My hands trembled in anticipation, knowing those memories would finally become reality again. When you knew what you were missing, it was almost worse than anticipating something you'd never had. I was like a drug addict standing in front of a dealer, eagerly anticipating her next hit.

"I believe I was promised a striptease," Declan said, breaking the heavy silence that had filled the room. He sat down in a plush beige chair, kicking his legs up on the nearby desk. He placed his hands behind his gorgeous head and leaned back, like he was waiting for the show to begin.

"I don't recall promising you one," I fired back.

I was a little breathless at my new view. Seeing Declan sprawled out in front of me did dirty things to my mind. I wanted nothing more than to knock those legs off that desk and sink into his lap, so I could relive all the fantasies I'd been living off of for so long. But I was stubborn as a mule, and I refused to give in so easily. This was a game we were playing, and I definitely wanted to play with him.

"Mmm...well, seems you told the desk clerks you were here to give your boyfriend a striptease. We wouldn't want to disappoint the poor boys, would we, Leah?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"You're not my boyfriend."

"No, but you did just agree to be mine, didn't you? I think we'll start with the top. Lose it." His voice deepened, becoming darker, sensual, and sexy as hell.

My muscles tightened in response, and I instantly flushed. I felt like a raging inferno had erupted inside my body, melting me from within. Complying with his command, I rose from the sofa and slowly lifted my sweater up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor in a billowing heap. His hazel eyes darkened, becoming greener, as he took me in.

"Now, the skirt, Leah," he said, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor in front of him.

He leaned back in the chair, trying to appear relaxed, but his former calm was gone, replaced with the hum of sexual energy now coursing through his system. He looked feral, barely contained, and I loved that my presence was bringing the animal out in him.

Achingly slow, I slid the skirt down my long legs, still tan from the summer, until it joined my sweater in the growing pile of clothes. I was now standing before him in nothing but black lace and heels. Feeling emboldened, I reached for the closure of my bra.

Declan interrupted, "No, my turn."

The predator was now on the move, rising up from his chair in one fluid motion. He took a few steps, closing the gap between us, until our bodies were nearly flush. I could feel the heat radiating off his perfect body. He smelled like leather, aftershave, and something purely male. It was divine.

His eyes swept down my body before moving upward and finally meeting my own. They were bright, alive, and full of fire. His hand snaked around my torso, brushing my sensitive skin with his fingertips, until he found the clasp of my bra. With one flick of his wrist, it came undone, and I watched it fall to the floor. His sharp intake brought my focus upward again. His eyes swept hungrily over my breasts as his hands found my waist, pulling me against his hard frame.

"Do you remember me, Leah?" he asked.

Like I could forget. Like I hadn't spent the last one-hundred-and-eighty-days trying to forget him.

I shuddered as his lips found my collarbone and gently kissed my skin.

"Do you remember what it feels like to have me buried deep inside you?"

Oh God.
I couldn't help it. I let out a small moan in response, and then I felt his lips upturn in a small smile against my shoulder.