Heart Lies & Alibis (4 page)

I walked to the sink and splashed some water on my face and then looked at the woman in the mirror. I knew beyond a doubt I wanted to do this, whatever this might be, more than I had wanted anything in a long time.

Thad gave me a door out by fucking Amberly and I was going to walk through it. I was forty years old and I deserved to be happy and tonight, Declan was exactly what was going to make me happy.

My table was still empty when I returned so I glanced around looking for Declan. I was rewarded with another panty dropping smile when I spotted him across the room talking to the band. He held up one finger asking me to wait and I nodded in consent. I slid back into the booth and took another drink of my whiskey. I remembered my promise to Grace and got out my phone to text her. I knew she would not be happy with my choice to stay at the pub beyond one drink but I would explain, or maybe not explain, myself over brunch the next day. I needed this night to be about me and I hoped Grace would understand.

I had just finished the text and stowed my phone back in my bag when Declan appeared again at my table. This time he slid into the booth on my side, his muscled thigh rubbing against my leg and his arm sliding behind me along the back of the booth. I couldn't believe how good it felt to be close to him.

"I'm glad you stayed Reagan."

"Me too." I smiled at him.

His gray-blue eyes smoldered in the dim lights of the bar. "I will be done here in about 20 minutes. Do you want to maybe go somewhere else and have a drink or something?" His eyes told me he really hoped I would choose the 'or something' option of his offer.

I bit my lip and then said. "I would like that."

His face lit up and I felt my heart flutter again. "Great. I will be back in a bit after I finish up."

He winked again, sliding out of the booth. I enjoyed watching him leave almost as much as seeing him arrive, noting the way his jeans fit just right in all the best places.

I watched him work behind the bar, talking to other staff and directing the flow of activity. I noted he never seemed to be anything but professionally polite with the gaggle of girls trying desperately to get his attention at the bar. He flirted like a pro but always kept a respectful distance. Interesting.

Each of the young vixens trying to catch his eye had a bra cup size roughly twice their age I would guess, if they were lucky, and the clothes to put their assets on full display. Ah to be young again. I wouldn't want it for anything, I thought laughing a bit.

I saw Declan glance again towards my table, as if he was making sure I hadn't slipped out, and each time our eyes met I was rewarded with a smile or a wink. He had me more than hot and bothered in those twenty minutes I was waiting for him than I wanted to admit. Mercifully, he was finally done and returned to my table.

He held his hand out to help me from the booth. "Shall we?" I nodded and slid to my feet.

I liked how he used the same hand to guide me out of the bar, placing it a my lower back, and sending further tingles through my body. I especially liked how tall he was, at least 6'3" as he made me feel more petite than usual. Once in the parking lot I paused because I was unsure of what was supposed to happen next.

Declan read my thoughts, it seemed, as he looked at my face. "We could go to another bar or if you don't find this too forward, we could go back to my place. I actually live in a bungalow behind the bar." He gestured to the back of a small house about a 100 yards behind the pub. How convenient, I thought.

Time seemed to stop while I weighed every scenario and every feeling I was having in that moment. Deep down I knew what I wanted to happen tonight. I stopped hesitating and I stepped towards him, placing one hand on his chest for balance, while I lifted my lips and touched his for the briefest moment. The heat between us was intense. As I stepped back I simply stated "Your place."

He stood completely still for a moment, his eyes locked on mine and his lips slightly parted. I could tell the kiss had fired him up too as he barely hesitated before he reached out and pulled me into his arms, his lips quickly devouring mine. The moment our lips touched again, I knew I was lost forever.

What began as another soft kiss soon exploded into a hunger so deep it nearly took my breath away. His probing tongue found a welcoming home in my hot and waiting mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck to steady myself as well as to pull him closer. His hands ran over my back, coming to a rest at my hips which he pulled in against his growing manhood. My breasts pressed against the hard ridges of his chest and I melted.

We were so lost in the moment it was only when a couple walking nearby let out a low whistle and a giggle that we were brought back to the reality of our location. We both laughed and stepped away from one another. I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. I couldn't remember the last time I was caught making out in a parking lot.

Declan didn't look the least bit fazed about getting caught in our public display of lust, however. "Maybe we should take this somewhere a bit less public." He took my hand, his fingers naturally lacing through mine, and he led me toward the bungalow.

Declan made short work of unlocking the door before he stepped aside allowing me to enter first. His house was nothing like I expected even though I really had no idea what to expect. Clean was an understatement. Everything was in its place and he obviously subscribed to the minimalist approach to life. I did not see any family pictures or magazines about. No discarded shoes or blankets crumpled on the couch. It was odd, in a way, as if he didn't really live there but rather staged the room to appear like a home.

Before I could contemplate the matter any further, Declan's question drew my attention. "Can I get you anything? Another whiskey perhaps?"

I knew another drink would put me in the state of mind where a one-night stand would sound like a fine idea. So of course I responded "That sounds great"..

He smiled. "Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Take your boots off if you'd like." I did all three things he suggested, adding my jacket to a chair before I curled into the corner of his low modern couch.

I couldn't remember the last time I had been to a man's home alone. It felt strange and oddly wonderful at the same time. Declan returned a few minutes later and I noticed he was now barefoot and damn if the man didn't have nice feet as well. He was a complete package.

He handed me my drink and then took a seat on the sofa with his own whiskey. We sat in silence for a few minutes, as most people are wont to do when they have just met a person yet already had their tongue in that person's mouth. Declan set his drink down and slid closer to me on the sofa, his arm around the back and his fingers gently twirling my hair between them.

I set my glass down and looked at him. Before the whiskey took me too far past logical thought, I thought I better make a few things clear.

"This isn't something I usually do."

He looked at me, an amused smile forming on his lips. "What don't you usually do?" He asked as his fingers began gently rubbing my arm in the most delicious way.

I tried to keep my thoughts on what I wanted to say but he was not making it easy. "Come home with someone I just met. And especially when that someone is over a decade younger than me."

His fingers continued their dance along my arm. "Okay. Me either, actually. Go home with someone I mean." He ignored my attempts to remind him about the looming age difference. His fingers slid along the back of my neck, under my hair. The sensation was intoxicating and forcing me to fight harder to keep my mind on the point I was trying to make.

I gave him a sideways glance as my brain absorbed exactly what he had said. "Really? A bartender who looks like you? With a passel of young ladies ready to jump your body at the slightest invitation on any given night surrounding the bar? You want me to believe, you come home alone?" I cocked my eyebrow at him. He had to be giving me a hard time.

He laughed, his head leaning back, as if I had meant to be funny. His fingers stayed at my neck while he laughed and I liked that.

I twisted my mouth in growing annoyance as he kept laughing."And what is so damn funny?"

"Well, you basically called me a man whore who apparently uses my job at the bar to lure, what was it you called them 'a passel of young women' to my bed. That, my lovely lady, is some funny stuff. Pretty presumptuous too, I might add."

I furrowed my forehead some more. I couldn't be that far off in my accusations. "Okay. Perhaps I did make some assumptions based on my own past experiences. But are you really telling me you come home alone, every night, and I was the rare exception to your monastic life?"

He paused his fingers at my neck and gave me another scorching look. My breath caught in my throat for a moment. "The truth? Yes, in spite of my job and the opportunities it provides, I do come home alone. Most nights." He grinned for a moment and I was about to speak when he continued. "And you, my lovely Reagan, are most definitely the exception to many rules." He had slid even closer to me on the sofa until our legs again touched.

I looked at him a moment before I allowed him to pull me towards him until our lips touched again. His hands held my cheeks and his tongue pulsed inside my hungry mouth.

The kiss deepened and deepened until we had maneuvered ourselves prone on the couch, side by side, our hands and lips in constant search of more skin, more touch. I hadn't felt like this in far too long. Lost in the passion of the moment, with only the other person in my vision. I needed to come up for air but didn't want to pull away from him for even a moment. He finally broke the touch and I could feel his body shudder with he tried to control his desire. His maleness pressed decidedly more insistently against my thigh and I yearned to know its every inch more intimately.

I maneuvered until I could straddle his body, my most delicate area perched above his. I rocked my hips gently, bringing our bodies together, and creating a friction through the denim that separated us that was smoldering. He groaned beneath me, his eyes rolling closed, his mouth opening slightly to allow jagged breaths more room to escape. His hands held my hips, firmly, while still allowing me the freedom to move but he made it clear exactly where he wanted that movement to be.

I watched his face as he let the pure pleasure of the moment swirl throughout him. He was even sexier in this position, vulnerable and open, and I found myself more turned on than I had been in many months, years perhaps. I paused my grinding motion and his eyes opened. Heavy with desire they locked on mine, their grayness dark with passion. Without a word, I reached down and lifted my tank top over my head, tossing it to the coffee table. I heard his breath catch in his throat as his eyes took me in. The sheerness of my black bra allowed my taut nipples to be perfectly outlined in the dim light. My full breasts pressed hungrily against the material, silently crying to be released into his hands, his mouth, whatever he wanted to do to them. As if he could read my thoughts again, he sat up and reached behind me, easily flicking the clasp open and guiding the straps from my shoulders. It was my turn to gasp when his hands first found my breasts, his slightly calloused fingers rubbing my nipples until my mind forget everything but this moment.

He tossed my bra into our growing pile of clothes as his mouth came down over my right breast. I gasped aloud as his tongue flicked and nipped at the nipple, his hand massaging the breast with pulsing squeezes. I let my head fall back in pure ecstasy as his other hand pulled me more firmly against his growing cock. I knew I needed more contact with his skin before I exploded. I reached down and pulled the hem of his t-shirt up, forcing him to break contact with my breasts for a brief moment while I pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it to the pile.

Free of the cotton barrier, his body was even better than I could have imagined. Muscled and sculpted, with a light dusting of hair forming a trail that disappeared into his jeans. More tattoos decorated his body – one over his heart, another on his other upper arm. But then the breathtaking perfection of his body was such a shock in the moment that I stopped and just stared.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I asked him, the whiskey and the foreplay freeing my tongue of its usual constraints.

He pulled away, total confusion filling his face as he looked at me.

My loose tongue continued. "What the hell are you? An underwear model in your spare time? Holy hell. I mean, look at you." I gestured to his sculpted chest as I sat back shaking my head. I didn't stop letting my eyes devour every inch of him though.

He was laughing again and look a bit embarrassed at my drunken declarations. "Um thanks, I think."

Because I was drunk enough to have little filters on my mouth I kept going. "No, really, this is my life. The first guy I choose to have a one night stand with after over thirteen years with the same guy and he has to look like he stepped off the pages of Playgirl? Can we turn the lights off now? I think you have seen enough of this 40-year-old-body for one night." I was drunk enough not to be too embarrassed but I did really want to turn the lights off.

He held my arms for a second, his eyes slowly moving up and down my body. "Wait. You must be kidding me now. Have you looked at yourself Reagan? You are smoking hot. I saw you walk in the bar and I nearly lost it. I swear, I had a raging boner the whole night after you came in." He grinned again and I could see he was genuine.