She rolled her eyes. He was sweet and meant well, but she was still upset with him. “Don’t tell me what you found out.” If she learned anything about Decklan, it would be from him and no other way.
He raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. “Suit yourself.”
That was the problem. If she suited herself, she’d be back in New York, looking to find Decklan at the club.
* * *
Decklan sat at the club, nursing a drink and, yes, dammit, brooding. He had access to an entire police department database, giving him the ability to look into one Ms. Amanda Collins if he wanted to. But why bother with a woman only too happy to slip out of his bed and disappear on him for over a month?
Some would say the fact that he couldn’t get her soft moans and cries of ecstasy out of his head was reason enough. In Decklan’s mind, that only meant she threatened the stability he’d created in his life and the control that kept him sane. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t a staple at the club on weekends, hoping she’d return.
His cell rang and he glanced down. His lips turned up in a grin despite the hell he knew was sure to come. “Hi, Lucy. How are you?” he asked his sister.
“You haven’t called me back!” she chided him. Lucy lived in L.A. part time, and though she used to stay at Gabe’s when she visited New York, with him married, she’d taken to staying at Decklan’s. But she hadn’t been here in a while.
Last time, she and Max had gotten into some sort of argument, and neither was willing to discuss the reasons behind it. He shrugged. Not his business.
“Hey, Lucy. Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Arresting people? Because I’m not sure Gabe’s forgiven you for cuffing Isabelle.” She snickered into the phone.
He rolled his eyes. Yes, he’d arrested Isabelle before she was Gabe’s woman, but in Decklan’s defense, there’d been a warrant initiated by her ass**le ex accusing her of stealing his car. Not that Decklan had known the details at the time.
“Quit causing trouble, Luce. That’s been over for a while.”
And he’d bribed himself back into Isabelle’s good graces with a bottle of Tums and aggravated his brother at the same time. A win-win, as far as he was concerned.
“Are you okay? Because Gabe says he hasn’t heard from you either.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. The one drawback to being close with his siblings was the way Lucy tended to push into his life under the guise of concern. Of course, both he and Gabe would do the same to her if they thought anything was amiss. Nobody would hurt Lucy if they could help it.
“I’m fine.” Just avoiding most of humanity and trying to decide what to do about the woman who’d breached his walls. He couldn’t get her out of his head.
Lucy huffed, and Decklan could envision the scowl on her face.
“Well, if you don’t get back to your usual grouchy self—as opposed to your silent and seriously grouchy self—soon, I’m coming out there to see for myself.”
“I hear you. And there’s nothing to worry about.”
He listened to her catch him up on her life, and finally they said good-bye, him promising to get his head out of his ass soon. God, he loved the little brat, he thought with a grin.
He put his phone back in his pocket just as Max arrived, settling into his usual seat. “I have to say, for a man who insists he’s not going to renew his membership, you’re here all the time lately.”
Max knew exactly why Decklan was here, so there was no point in answering.
“If she does show, at least tell me you’ve got a plan?” Max said, pushing as usual.
“I have no f**king clue.”
“Well, I hope you get one.” Max slapped him on the back. “I see Emmy giving me the eye. I’m going to go remind her who’s the dom,” he said. “You ought to find a sub and do the same.”
“Have fun,” Decklan said, ignoring the suggestion. He wasn’t in the mood. Hadn’t been for a long time, but especially since that night. Since Amanda.
He glanced around the room, familiar with all the spaces and places in the club. The St. Andrews cross on the wall was occupied, a dark-haired female getting pleasure from absorbing pain. His gaze slid onward. A group of men sitting and talking, their subs at their feet. A quick look confirmed she wasn’t one of them. His emotions were already frayed tonight, and if he found her with someone else, he couldn’t promise himself he’d keep a handle on his temper.
He ordered a Glen Livet on the rocks and tried to put his night with her in perspective. Chemistry. They’d had that in spades. But there was something more to her. A strength combined with a vulnerability he didn’t see often. They’d clicked in bed and out. He’d had fun with her, a word he never associated with sex. And most important, the thing that unnerved him the most, she tempted him to want her touch. To free her from the restraints so he could feel her soft hands on his cock, her nails at his back, and her arms wrapped securely around him.
Shit. He shouldn’t be here. Didn’t need that kind of intensity and seriousness in his life.