Page 6 of Declan's Dove

My chin falls open. Declan smiles wide, his eyes dancing with triumph. With his finger, he leans in and gently lifts my chin, closing my mouth.

“Let’s go, baby. Get your coat. It’s a little chilly on the bike today.”

“On the … oh no. We can take my car. I’m not getting on the back of that death trap with you. I have my son to think about.” I grab my coat and sling it around my shoulders, putting my arms through and zipping it closed.

Declan’s hands grip my waist from behind. His beard prickly against my cheek as he whispers in my ear. “You’re safe with me, baby. I’d never put you at risk, Dove. I know how much Carter means to you. But you should know, I’m never careless with what I consider to be mine.”

I turn my head to look at him.

“I’m not yours.” I whisper.

I want to be.

I almost let the words slip. But I hold them back. I have trouble on my heels and baggage no man should have to deal with. The secrets I carry come at a price and it’s one I’d never ask another person to pay.

Declan smirks but doesn’t argue.

“Come on.” He takes me by the hand and leads me outside to his bike. I come to a stop and stare at him defiantly.

“I’m not getting on this thing.” I cross my arms and stand my ground, only to be taken off guard by his large hands plucking me up off the ground and settling me onto his bike anyway.

Declan keeps his grip on my hips, holding me to the seat. “Put your leg over the other side and when I sit down, wrap your sexy little body around mine. All you have to do is hold on tight and lean when I do. I’ll do the rest. Got it?”

“Do I get a choice?”

“No.” He leans in so close. Our noses are touching. My pulse picks up, and a small gasp escapes me. Declan chuckles. “I got you, baby. Just hold on to me.”

“Okay.” It comes out in a whisper, and I want to scream at myself for letting him get me all tied up in knots over his close proximity. I can’t find it in me to say no.

You did say no. He just didn’t accept it.

The thought should anger me, but somehow, I find his unwillingness to take no for an answer to be flattering.

God, what’s wrong with me?

Declan climbs onto the bike and reaches back to grab my hands, placing them around him, clasping them across his abdomen.

Holy fucking six pack Batman.

I groan unexpectedly and again the man chuckles. I begin to pull my hands back and loosen my hold, but his meaty hand grips mine, holding them in place.

“Don’t even fucking think about it, Dove.” He says over his shoulder. He reaches up to the handlebar and grabs his helmet, handing it back to me. “Put this on.”

“I’ll need my hands back to do that.” I sass.

“Good point.” He twists himself, keeping one hand on mine, and places the helmet on my head with the other. “Don’t let go.” He lifts his hands, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Declan clips the strap and tightens the helmet to fit.

“There. That’s better.” He taps my nose, then turns back around, one hand back on mine as he starts the bike.

We take off out of the parking lot and I hum at the feel of my soft parts pressed up against all of his hard. The man is a wall of muscle, front and back. The smell of leather from his cut and the citrusy scent of his cologne mingle in the air around me as we drive. The brisk air would probably be too much if not for the warmth radiating off his body.

We travel down the road to Magpie’s diner. It’s a staple in this town. The perfect place for comfort food. It has a classic fifties feel to it. With pictures on the wall of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe. The booths are white vinyl with vertical teal stripes down the center. The tabletops and bar are stainless steel with tiny jukeboxes and condiments on top. The bar stools are the same teal as the stripes on the booths, and the floor is black-and-white checkerboard.

The club president, Gabe bought this place for his late wife and it’s been a big part of the Kings lives. It was Gabe’s late wife’s favorite place, and one the kids and families all grew up in together.

Declan parks the bike, cutting the engine then dismounting. He turns back to me as I’m lifting the helmet off my head, and finishes removing it for me. He chuckles, and I quickly grab my hair. The messy knot I had before must look atrocious now.

Way to be sexy, Vi.

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