Page 68 of Sweet Revenge
His hand gripped the back of her neck, tilting her head up, eyes searching hers. “You know why,” he said before bringing his lips down against hers in a kiss that stole her breath and sent heat racing along her skin.
He backed her against the railing, one hand fisted in her hair while the other slid under his shirt and cupped her breast, squeezing as his thumb circled her nipple.
He lifted her up, setting her on the cool stone, but she could feel only him and the fire he ignited inside her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she drew him in tight against her. He was already hard, wanting, as his mouth swept over hers and she tilted her head back and let him take.
He pushed the shirt off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the cool air so her nipples hardened. When he brushed his fingertips against them, she gasped, arching her hips against his and eliciting a growl from low in his throat that made her feel heady, powerful.
As the sun peeked through the trees, he slipped inside her, coaxing a groan from her lips. She let the thoughts that plagued her drain from her head and gave in to the sensations that filled her. The slow, steady thrust of his hips, the feel of his teeth grazing across the column of her throat, the way his palm cupped her breast, the shivers he sent through her as he circled her nipple with his thumb.
And when he took them both over the edge, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere but here in his arms, whatever the future held.
Still inside her, he trailed his lips lazily up the side of her neck and across her jaw to her lips, kissing her softly.
“Let’s get out of the house for a bit and go to the club tonight.”
“Really? What about the—”
“Italians, I know. There’s plenty of security there, and I’ll get some men to follow us there and back if it’ll make you feel better.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll go insane if you stay cooped up in this house much longer.”
She chuckled softly. “It wasn’t that long ago that you were all but threatening to keep me prisoner.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Times change.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, they do.”
“Now come back to bed.”
“I’m not really that tired anymore.”
He grinned, lifting her off the railing and turning back toward the bedroom. “Sleep wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
* * *
That evening Evie stood in front of the mirror and tugged on the hem of the dress Cait had let her borrow. The deep burgundy brought out the green in her eyes as Cait said it would, but the skintight dress left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
The knee-length dress hit Evie high on the thigh since she was so much taller than her friend, and the criss-cross halter top stretched across her breasts, leaving a small keyhole cutout that revealed smooth, pale skin. She hadn’t even been able to wear any underwear with the damn thing.
Twisting, she checked that the pins she’d shoved into her messy braided bun were holding, deciding that a few loose tendrils only added to the look. The purple and gray shadow she’d smudged onto her lids enhanced her eyes even more than the dress, and she’d opted for a nude lip to keep the focus where she wanted it.
She had to admit that she killed in this dress, but Cait’s advice to tell Declan she loved him was making her nervous. She pressed a hand to her belly as she stepped out of the bathroom, shutting off the light. It was a big step, and they were words she couldn’t take back.
However Declan responded, those three words would alter her future. It was no small thing to say them. She fixed silver chandelier earrings into her ears and slipped on a pair of black stilettos.
The smoldering look he gave her when he saw her walking down the stairs, eyes raking up and down her body, quieted the butterflies. It was all white-hot heat and desperate need, and it made her mouth water. Surely a man who looked at her like that could handle the three simplest words in the English language.
“I changed my mind,” he growled when she stopped in front of him. “We should stay home so I can tell you everything I’m going to do to you while I remove that dress and then show you.”
“That is a deliciously tempting offer, Mr. Callahan, but,” she braced a hand on his chest when he moved to kiss her, “it took me an embarrassingly long time to shimmy into this thing, and I am not taking it off again until someone besides you sees me in it.”
As if on cue, Brogan strolled into the foyer holding a very large sandwich in one hand and a can of soda in the other. He whistled in appreciation, grinning when Declan shot him a look.
“Someone you’re not related to,” she added before Declan could point out that Brogan met her terms.
“Fine. It’ll give me more time to make a longer list,” Declan murmured, grabbing his keys and following her out the door.
The line for Reign snaked around the side of the building while broad, towering bouncers manned velvet ropes and fended off flirting women begging to get inside. At the sight of Declan, they unhooked the rope and let them pass, nodding at them both.
Inside, people thronged the dance floor, writhing bodies grinding to the beat from the DJ that was cast in neon lights on a small stage. More neon lights bounced around, reflecting off the chrome and glass, their colors changing in a mesmerizing kaleidoscope. The music hummed through her like electricity as Declan shouldered his way to the stairs that led up to the VIP lounge on the second floor.
