Page 14 of Declan

Even if you’d asked permission, even if it wasn’t a big deal

I’m here to retaliate with fire

So, you heard my woman—

Screw your ‘sorry’, screw your ‘my mistake’

I’m flying with her new rendition, altering my previous plan for subtlety and opting for a direct-fire missile shot no one will be able to misconstrue. Then I drop into a low, raspy growl as the music drops and the crowd stands still, vibrating with anticipation.

Screw your ‘my bad’ and fuck you for thinking you can take what’s mine

The silence is deafening as one beat leads to two, and two beats lead to three. Then the drummer taps, taps, taps, and the bassist picks up an anticipatory baseline that has the crowd in a lather. Issa clenches her jaw, her eyes shining with rage, confusion, shock, and a tiny fleck of appreciation.

I mean, she’s definitely going to fucking kill me as soon as we’re out of sight, but I don’t fucking care. I did what I did, and I’m not sorry, and nothing she says or does will alter the trajectory of our blossoming relationship.

She shakes her head and sighs, then turns back to the crowd like the professional entertainer she is and gives them exactly what they want.

A fucking show.

5

A Strategic Dance of Wills

Declan

Thedoorisbarelyshut behind me when she whirls on me, her hand settling on her beautifully rounded hips as she glares at me and hisses, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

It is definitely more of a statement than a question, but I answer anyway because I know it’ll infuriate her further. “Well, since you asked, obviously, I’ve lost my mind for you.”

Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open as my words sink in, and then her eyes almost pop out of her head as she shouts, “Don’t fucking say that.”

I laugh, a genuine response that I’m sure she can see from the smile on my face and the twinkle in my eye. I lean back against the door and cross my arms over my chest as I respond, “Don’t speak the truth?”

A strangled sound of frustration erupts from her, and her hands fall from her hips as she stomps her foot, obviously at a loss for words. So, I ask, “Did you not like the changes I made to the song?”

She raises her fisted hands in front of her, and it appears as if she’s going to come over and strangle me, but she doesn’t; she stands like that with her eyes closed, muttering to herself.

I take the opportunity to sneak closer, and when she opens her eyes a few moments later, I’m standing right in front of her. She freezes for a moment, then quickly steps backward, but I don’t let her retreat that easily, so I follow. She keeps shuffling back, not realizing what she’s doing until her back comes into contact with the wall behind her, and she presses herself back against it as if it’s a lifeline instead of a barrier.

“Back off, Declan,” she whispers.

I step right into her so we’re just barely touching, raising my arms and placing my hands on the wall above her head as I lean down and meet her eyes with mine. “No. I don’t want to.”

“I’m not gonna tell you again.”

I smile at her and ask, “Or what? Are you gonna make me?”

She stares at me, her throat moving as she swallows, and my cock twitches in my pants at that sight. I let my head drop down a bit more and inhale deeply through my nose, letting her scent overwhelm my senses. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t flinch away. But she also doesn’t attempt to get closer, so I straighten, putting some space between us as I ask again, “Are you gonna make me?”

Her eyes meet mine head-on, and I see the fire in them as she swallows again, shaking her head as she whispers, “I can’t make you. You could overpower me in a heartbeat.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, doll face,” I whisper back. I move my hand from the wall, ghosting my fingertips along her cheek without actually touching her skin, and her eyes close, her lips trembling as her breath catches. “If you don’t feel that. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t feel the same deep draw to me that I feel to you. If you can honestly tell me you feel nothing, then I’ll go and never darken your doorstep again.”

One thing I can say about Issa is she’s not a liar. Sure, she can pull off a lie for publicity’s sake if she has to, but there’s no way she can lie about this. There’s no way she can repress this level of yearning hunger and not have it come out in some other way, whether it be her shaking hands, her shuddering breath, or the heated lust in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.”

Her words steal some of my humor, and I struggle to keep my good nature, my lip curling as I take a moment to school myself before responding. “How can it not matter?”

---