Free Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) by Michelle Irwin Page B

to pick her up and carry her the short distance to the house, but with the visitors I had camped outside the house waiting for the perfect shot, I couldn’t risk it. I had to draw their attention onto me.
    “You’ll have to carry her,” I said to Alyssa even as I shoved open my door and climbed out of the car. Without glancing back, I headed to the small side door to the detached garage and pushed through it.
    My steps carried me away from the house and closer to the front of the property. One of the paps obviously saw me coming because a moment later, there was a small flurry of activity as cameras were pointed at me. I paced back and forth along a section of the circular drive, my hands fisted in my hair and a stream of filthy words just behind my lips ready to fly from me at any second.
    The desire to curse out every pap, to scream and shout until they all just fucked off and left me alone, was so strong, but I couldn’t. It would only make things worse.
    It was almost fucking ironic that I’d spent four years boozing up and fucking almost anything with tits, but the paparazzi only became interested when I was settled down and living a calmer life. When I was trying to do the responsible thing.
    Despite the lack of bars, I felt like a caged animal. A fucking zoo exhibit. Trapped within the confines of my own home.
    Certain I’d distracted the photographers long enough for Alyssa to get Phoebe into the house, I turned and headed back inside—but not before flipping the bird at the cameras. Let that be their fucking money shot.
    The first thing I did when I got inside was to ensure every set of blinds in the house was closed, that every curtain was drawn. I didn’t want any of the fuckers getting a look inside my house. As I paced from room to room in my crazed state, I heard Alyssa singing to Phoebe, no doubt trying to get her back to sleep for an afternoon nap.
    I was in the study, trying to see if I could see any of the fuckers on the street from the small window there, when Alyssa found me.
    “Do you want to talk about before?” Her voice held no judgement. No anger. Just support.
    It was enough to spur me into action. I crossed the room to her, drew her into my arms and claimed her lips. My tongue followed, probing at her mouth to demand entrance. She complied willingly, opening for me in every sense. I stepped between her legs and grabbed her arse to pull her closer to me.
    All the fun and desire we’d shared in the water, the fun teasing, had gone—replaced by a craving deeper than any I could explain. I needed to give myself to her; needed her to take me in return. I had to surrender to her hold so that she could remove the doubt surging through me. The salt water lingered on her lips, adding a new dimension to her flavour I’d never tasted before. Each and every time I’d been with Alyssa was like a new experience—one I would never tire of.
    All of the doubts that had been slowly twisting through my mind, taking root as dark thoughts and twisting into thick vines through every memory and emotion, were swept away by her touch.
    She seemed to understand what I wanted. Seconds after I’d initiated the kiss, the sundress she was wearing came off over her head. Underneath was her still slightly damp bikini.
    “Fuck.” The word slipped from my lips at the fresh sight of the black against her skin. It was clear that visions of her wearing that outfit would be frequent visitors while she was back in Brisbane and I was stuck in Sydney.
    I kissed my way down her neck, my fingers reaching for the ties on her hips. First one, then the other, and the bikini bottom fell away completely. Without stopping, my fingers explored her skin, pushing the cups of her bikini top down to expose her perfect nipples.
    Matching sighs were on our lips as I took one breast in my mouth and rolled the other in my fingertips.
    “I need you, Lys.”
    “I’m yours, Dec.”
    I wasn’t sure if she realised I meant in general, and