Behind the Pitch, a novella: Seeking Serenity 1.5 by Eden Butler Page B

sensation of our bodies touching, of her perfect tits rubbing against my chest. When she tried to go for the door, I slammed it shut, locked it. I needed a moment to make her see reason. To explain… fecking Joe, I couldn’t explain. Shite. Not yet.
    “He’s not the one, love.” She had to realize that. That idiot wanker? No way was he good enough for my McShane. “You know that. Deep in your gut, you know it isn’t Tucker.”
    “Then who is it?” She practically screamed that bit. “It’s not you. You’ve told me that a thousand times. This…thing, this whatever we had, is over.” I tried to think of some reasonable excuse for pushing her away, one that would still shield the truth that wasn’t mine to share. There wasn’t any. In every one I came off like a bleeding arsehole. “No, Declan. It was your choice.” She paused, took a breath and for the first time I saw her anger slip away. Behind it was the loss I thought she felt. She was hurt. I’d hurt her, I knew that, but she’d never let me see it before. I had been unfair, have been since the first time I saw her with that bollocks. The day after I broke it off with her. Until now, she’d guarded herself, hadn’t let me see a bit of the hurt I’d caused her, not really. But it was clear in those gray eyes. How she wanted me. How she missed me. Fuck me, I wanted her too.
    Autumn yanked on my collar and I was so fecking close to grabbing her, to taking her right then and there. But then she spoke and her voice cracked and I was too much of a shite to do anything but let her touch me, let her do with me whatever the hell she wanted. I let her control me. Fecking gladly. “I wanted you so badly. I still—” She squinted her lids tight as though that last bit slipped out of her mouth. Fuck this. She wanted me and right then I could give a good shite less why I needed to back away. I leaned forward, couldn’t help but touch her neck, feel the warmth on her skin; skin that I’ve tasted. Skin that I wanted to taste over and over again. But before I could, she jerked away from me, tried to put distance between us. “You rejected me. I’m not going to play games with you anymore.”
    “I can’t…if you knew—”
    It was on the tip of my tongue. The truth about Joe, about my life back home. It almost came out, but when I looked at her again, saw how her eyes had gone all glassy, I was right back to feeling like a prized git. If she knew, she’d hate me for touching her. She’d hate herself for wanting to touch me right back.
    “Help me understand then.”
    I sagged against her, dropped my head to her shoulder so that I could take a breath, so I could sort out what way was best to put her off, just once more. But my mind was fecking blank. There was nothing there but her smell, the way her curves felt in my hands, how she made me weak. “You don’t know how hard this is for me.” I straightened up, hoped that she could see how desperate I was when I looked at her. “I want you. God, do I want you.”
    “Declan. Please. You have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t say things like that when you have Heather.”
    What the bleeding hell? “How do you know about her?” I was determined not to budge when she tried pushing me away again.
    “Was I not supposed to find out? She threatened me to stay away from you.”
    Fecking Heather. What the hell did she say to Autumn? I’d told that girl a thousand bloody times I wasn’t interested, but she wouldn’t give me any space.
    Autumn had to see right through Heather’s lies. She was cleverer than that. I had to make her understand, to see that I would never want someone like Heather. That time, when I touched her, Autumn didn’t flinch away from me. “We’re not together. I don’t want her, Autumn.”
    I hoped I wasn’t holding her too tight. She squirmed away and I knew I should have let her leave. I knew she didn’t need me messing her about. But then a flash of Morrison touching her back, of her