"For the record—I get it. The holding it together thing. I spent this whole week convinced you were pulling away from me. That I'd done something, or that this was you finally coming to your senses about the boss you're sleeping with."
"Never." He shakes his head, firm. "Never with you, Josie. I was drowning, and I didn't know how to ask you to help me without dragging you under too. Not after what you told me about your mom too."
"Declan." I lift his hand and press my lips to his knuckles. "I've been drowning my whole life. You could've just asked."
"I know." His thumb traces over the back of my hand. "I'm asking now. Better late than never?"
"Marginally better." I lean my head against his shoulder. "You could've just texted, though. Instead of the whole—" I gesture at the chocolate, the champagne, the ridiculous spa voucher. "This is a lot, Declan."
"It was Diego's idea. He said, and I quote,'A man who cannot use his words must use his credit card,mijo.'" Declan's chest bounces with a deep chuckle. "So. That's what I did.'"
"You're ridiculous."
"You like ridiculous."
"I likeyou," I say, and the honesty of it surprises us both. "Which is a much bigger problem."
But to my surprise, he just turns, cups my face with one giant hand and smiles down at me.
"I like you too. You know that, right? Terrifyingly too much."
I melt into him, my hand sliding up into his hair as he kisses me. He groans low against my mouth, pulling me closer until I'm nearly in his lap, our mouths locked together.
"God I've missed kissing you," he growls against my mouth.
He lays me back against the pillows, and the tray of chocolates tips, spilling dark little squares across the duvet as his weight settles over me.
Neither of us cares.
His mouth finds mine again, slower this time, deeper, and his hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, warm palms moving over my breasts.
"Take this off," I breathe, tugging at his own shirt.
He obliges, pulling it over his head, and I finally get my hands on his chest again. He leans down and kisses me deeply, letting me trace every line and ridge of his torso as his tongue rolls over mine.
He undresses me slowly, pressing kisses to every bit of skin he uncovers. My collarbone, the curve of my breast, the soft plane of my stomach, every movement met with a deep murmuring of things I only half catch.
Beautiful. Mine. Sorry. So sorry.
"Declan." I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to mine. "Stop apologizing. Come here."
He settles his hips between my thighs, and when he finally sinks into me, it's slow enough that we both gasp, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.
"There you are," he whispers, like I'm something he's been searching for all week.
"Here I am."
He moves unhurried, deep, deliberate, every roll of his hips making me moan. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, needing more of that beautifullengthhe gives me.
"Declan," I gasp, nails starting to scrape down the length of his back. "Harder."
He groans and gives me exactly that, hips snapping deeper, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with every thrust. A chocolate square gets crushed somewhere beneath us, and I couldn't care less.
"You feel this?" he pants against my throat, biting and nuzzling against me. "This is what I missed all week."
"Yes. Don't stop." My heels dig into his ass, pulling him impossibly closer.Deeper."Don't you dare stop."
"Never." His voice breaks on the word. "You're the only thing that's made sense in weeks, Josie."
