How unfair this was of Fate to take her from me.
How unfair it is I cannotsleep.
I never realized exactly how loud the screams and wind were until Declan silenced them.
I think I’d grown pretty adept at tuning them out during the day, living with it like people who have tinnitus live with it. Except now I can’t ignore it. None of my tricks work anymore.
Not now, with knowing the blissful silence that can exist.
I stand, thinking that might help, staring down atmy laptop as I read through this legislation. I periodically pace my office before returning to my laptop to read a little more.
I want to peel my blazer and shirt off and rage, destroy…something.
Anything.
Even myself.
When I turn I spy my phone on my desk, and I stare at it for a long moment. Before I can stop myself, I’m picking up the receiver and buzzing Dana, my AA.
“Yes, Governor?”
I shove away the little voice inside my brain that tries to warn me this is a baaaad idea. “I want Declan Howard in my office five minutes ago,” I tell her. “And hold all my calls and visitors. Even Casey.” I hang up on her without awaiting an answer.
And I pace, circling my desk.
I pace and I try to silence the angry buzzing in my brain that sounds like a scream. My cock thickens as I thinkabout Tuesday night in the office, and later at home—and yesterday morning—and I end up behind my desk, where I force myself to sit and place my hands on my desk, palms flat.
A quick double-tap on my office door a moment later makes me flinch. “Come.”
Declan darts inside. I suck in a breath, imagine I can smell him, smell lube, smell whatever it was Casey was wearing that first night, and nowI’mhard.
“Lock it,” I softly say without moving.
He pauses and, for a second, I wonder if he’s going to comply. My nostrils flare as I sense his willing fear and I savor it. He’s dressed in a tie and blazer that I want to rip off him, bend him over my desk, and fuck him until the noise of the wind screaming through the fuselage shuts the hell up in my brain.
Two years later, and he’s theonlything that’s ever silenced the wind and the screams.
It’s a tenuous and second-hand connection to my girl, but there you have it.
He’s mine.
And I want him.
Time slows, the way it didthatday on the airplane, except this time without death paying a visit. I watch his throat bob against his collar as he swallows, the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks, the way hisblazer rustles as he turns back to the door and flips the lock shut.
When he faces me, I’m already up and moving and rounding my desk as I softly snap and point at the floor in front of it.
Dark eyes look up at me and I take note of the short scruff of his goatee and mustache while he drops to his knees.
My hands tremble, so I shove them in my pockets as I lean against my desk.
Am I reallygoing to do this?
As the wind screams louder in my mind, I realize…yes.
Yes, I am.
He looks up at me, silent, waiting.
