Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

60. Declan

CHAPTER SIXTY

declan

I can’t help my smile as I leave the rink, another win under our belts, and see that pretty girl leaning against my vehicle. She flashes me a sweet smile, and though I can’t see the back of her jersey, I know that she’s wearing my name on her back.

She cocks a brow like she doesn’t know what I’m so happy about. She’s probably thinking that I’m stoked about another win. I am, but I am more excited that I get to leave here with her.

It took me a while to get out of the rink. After all the press and the debrief with the team, she’s been here on her own for a couple of hours now. Most of the wives and girlfriends have already gone home, but not Penny. She waited here until I was done.

We’re in that stage where we never want to be too far from each other. I hope that never changes because I’m not going to lie, I love this.

“What a game,” she says when I reach her.

I shoulder my bag, grinning. “Your man is a beauty. ”

“Forker?” she asks, pushing herself off the hood. I shoot her a look of warning, but she’s steadfast in this act. “He is pretty good, isn’t he?”

Yeah, not going to happen.

I drop my bag to the ground with a thump. Her head drops to follow it, and when her gaze snaps back upward, she knows she fucked up. I stalk toward her, and to her credit, she doesn’t back away.

“Forker, eh?”

“He landed some pretty big hits,” she musters up, but her breath catches as I reach for her. I cup her face in my hands, tugging her to me. Her hands slide to my suit jacket. “You played well too.”

“ Well ?” I ask, cocking a brow. I smooth my thumb against her jaw, and her eyes flutter. I fucking have her. “Be honest about my performance, Lucky. I never took you for a liar.”

She’s silent for a second, and something sparks behind her eyes.

“You can find the evidence of how I felt about your performance between my legs right now.”

I nearly collapse.

I don’t know what I was expecting to leave her mouth but that was not it. My eyes widen, grip tightening on her jaw, and by the way her cheeks pink and her pupils dilate—I know she’s being serious.

Fuck.

“Watching me play turned you on?” I find the balls to ask because I need to hear her say it again. I need to burn this to memory, especially with the desperate way she’s looking at me right now.

“You want to feel?” she asks.

Fuck. Yes.

I wish we weren’t in the parking lot of the arena right now. Even in the private section, I don’t trust those lurkers with their big lenses and their need for good photos. I can shove my hand into the front of her leggings right now. I can dip my fingers inside of her, confirming that she’s being honest, but I can’t guarantee that there wouldn’t be a photo of that online by midnight.

“I do,” I groan, leaning downward to press my forehead to hers. She peers up at me through her lashes, and fuck, those eyes are going to kill me one day. “But we can’t. Not here.”

“But we will?” she asks, grip tightening on my jacket. “Tonight?”

I need to fuck her. I thought taking it slow was the smart move, but if she’s ready, I’m fucking ready.

“When we get home,” I promise, leaning down until my lips brush hers. “You think I haven’t been dying for another round with you? You think I haven’t been so completely satisfied with just the memory of you, that there’s been nobody else since you?”

She jerks back, and my grip on her jaw tightens to keep her there. “Nobody?”

“None,” I grumble, smashing my lips to hers.

The immediate moan that leaves her sends all the blood right to my cock. I scramble forward, wrapping an arm around her waist to haul her to my body. Her tongue sweeps against my lips, and would I ever deny her a single want?

Over my dead body.

She deepens the kiss, but I’m the one who loses it. I can’t think when it comes to her. The world stops. Hockey becomes just a sport. The idea of a camera in the bushes becomes a cautionary tale that means nothing. Only her. Only what she wants. And she wants me to make her come.

I whirl her around, slamming her against the side of my car. Her lips leave mine, a whimper leaving her mouth. I wet my bottom lip with my tongue, peering down at her in my jersey, pressing my hips flat to hers.

The second she feels me against her, her eyes flutter, heavy with lust.

“There is no going back,” I murmur, reaching up to place my thumb on her bottom lip. I pull it down gently, and fuck, I can’t wait to find out how that mouth feels around me. “Once we do this again, I completely belong to you like the pathetic idiot that I am.”

She nods, reaching up to wrap her hand around my forearm. She gently pulls my hand from her face and lowers it, pressing my open palm to her chest—right above her heart. It’s racing again, but for a different reason this time.

“I’ve belonged to you since you opened that red door,” she whispers.

I’m going to come in my fucking suit.

“Fuck,” I groan, leaning downward to press my forehead to hers.

She smiles, angling her head to peck my lips. “You better get me home or we’re going to have to pull over and take care of this.”

My brows skyrocket. The idea of fucking her in my Range Rover is tempting. But no. We can’t. Not for the first time as a… whatever we are. I’m going to take my time and treat her right. My girl deserves a bed and multiple orgasms.

“Home,” I repeat the word, stepping back.

She moves to slide by me to get in the vehicle. “What?”

“I like hearing you call my home your home.”

Her smile falters a bit, but her eyes soften. “We’ll figure that bit out.”

I don’t want her to go home. To her actual home. To our home, in Canada, where our family and friends live. I want her here. With me. I want a life with her intertwined in it. I don’t know why she’s hesitating. I wish she wouldn’t.

She squeezes my hand three times and rushes to the other side of the vehicle.

I clear my throat, trying to force my dick to relax, and reach down to pick up my bag.

I’m an idiot.

Of course she’s hesitating. The last time she picked up and moved her life for a guy, it didn’t work out so well. She’s finally home again, where Avery is close, and her family is within reach. She’s created a safe little life for herself. Maybe she’s just not ready to take the risk.

I’ll have to be okay with that. This is new, even if it doesn’t feel like it. We have time. We’ll make it work.

I climb into my Range Rover, risking a look at her. Those dark blue eyes are already locked onto me, a knowing smirk on her glossy lips. I can tell exactly what she’s picturing, and she knows it. She loves it. It’s foreplay without touching at all. She can get to me through my fucking mind, and that’s the sexiest thing about her.

I toss the car into reverse, immediately sliding my hand to her thigh. I haven’t really done the girlfriend thing. I have had a couple of week-ers, or a few month-ers, but even then—I didn’t feel the need to touch them when I drive.

Her eyes flicker from my face to my hand as I reverse out of my parking spot. I hold in my laugh. Jackpot. I didn’t do this for myself, no matter how much I already love driving with my hands on her.

Say what you want about me, but my memory is stellar. Especially when it comes to her.

Junior year, a game of truth or dare. She was asked what her most obscure green flag is in a partner, and without missing a beat, she blurted out: “A man who drives with his hand on your body.”

All of us guys looked at her like she was nuts. The girls all nodded in agreement. I knew then that there was something us boys were missing, something about the female population that we’d never understand.

Her eyes met mine across the table, and she must have noted my confusion.

“It’s claiming me as yours, even when nobody is around. It’s a gentle reminder that you’re still into me. I like it.”

I remembered that. To this day. If she likes it, she’s getting it.

Her gaze snaps back to me as I push the car into drive. I flash her a smile and her eyes divert to my dimples. Yeah, I’m very aware that she gives those special attention.

Her fingers slide across my hand, and she wraps hers around mine. We pass the security gate and I clock the herd of photographers waiting there, blinding me with their flashes. Thank god I didn’t fuck her against my car.

Penny’s fingers squeeze my hand. Once, twice, and a third time.

I wave at the fans still gathered, but I don’t have the time to stop. Penny ducks her head a bit, but just like she did to me—I squeeze her leg. Three times. It makes her sit a bit higher, a bit more confidently.

It takes time to get used to the circus.

I pull out of the arena, turning my palm in hers. I know she likes the thigh grab, but I feel the need to hold her hand right now. She slides her fingers through mine without hesitation.

I glance at her again as I guide us onto the freeway.

She meets my eyes, that smile still on her lips. She lifts our hands, the back of mine facing her, and presses her lips to the skin .

“One,” I count, unable to help my own smile.

She kisses my hand again.

“Two.”

Her eyes ignite with fucking sunshine. She smiles wide, realizing that not only did I remember the thigh thing, but I also know all about the habit of threes between her and Avery. What it means. How deep that symbolism is rooted between them.

Penny presses her lips to my hand again, this time lingering. Her thumb brushes against my wrist.

“Three,” I swallow.

She lowers our hands to her lap.

“What else have you been noticing about me over the years, Declan Lowes?” she asks.

The light from the streetlights flicker above our heads. I stare ahead, the only place I’ll look from now on when it comes to her and me, and I admit something that I hadn’t ever realized until it became important.

“Absolutely everything.”