Kisses Sweeter Than Wine: Tastes of Seduction, Book 3 Read online

  Declan’s gaze was glued to the door, as though he were either mesmerized by it or trying to see inside. “The rest happened downstairs. In her room.”

  “Hey,” Noah said softly. “You know she’s not in there now.”

  “I know. But I am. So are my memories.”

  “Nah, mate. Your memories are all here.” Noah tapped Declan’s head. “They have been for the last six months. That’s just a door, and behind the door is just a room. That’s it. Nothing more.”

  “Then why can I see her face as clearly as if she was standing there? The…shock and horror. The disappointment. Why’s it all so clear now?”

  “Because, my man, standing here, looking at the door means you’ve stopped running. You’re finally letting the memories catch up with you.”

  Declan grimaced. “You’re the reason I’m standing here.”

  Noah placed a comforting hand on Declan’s shoulder.

  Dec shrugged it off. “Why did you bring me here?” He turned to glare at Noah. Beneath the anger blazing in his eyes, Noah glimpsed a well of misery. It made his chest twist all over again. “So I’d be forced to confront my mistakes? Acknowledge my miserable failures?”

  “You’re the only one who sees them as failures. I brought you here so you’d finally see, finally believe, you’re not the complete fuckup you think you are.”

  “And bringing me to the scene of my crime is going to convince me? Really?”

  “This was the only way I knew to get you to confront your past. You need to accept that your actions and decisions weren’t criminal, and they weren’t wrong. They were human. Deal with them, Dec, accept them, so you can start living in the present again.” God, he needed to live in the present. He needed to move on. “So you can start leading the life you want to, and not the one you believe you should be living.”

  “What are you? My fucking psychotherapist?”

  In Noah’s heart of hearts, he hoped he was Dec’s future. Or a major part of his future, anyway. “Nope.” Noah smiled wryly. “Apparently I’m your punching bag.”

  Declan shrugged. “Better than me being your punching bag.”

  Noah laughed, not expecting humor from Declan. “A joke?”

  Considering Noah had passed up an opportunity in university to become a professional heavyweight boxer, Declan’s comment was amusing. No one wanted to be Noah’s punching bag.

  “Sarcasm,” Declan corrected. “There’s nothing worth laughing about in this hotel.”

  “That’s what you say now.”

  “Want to know what I say now, dickhead? I despise you. I despise every fucking thing about you.”

  “Nah. You don’t. You’re just pissed because I brought you here.”

  “Yeah, I’m pissed. You got that right. But that’s not all. I abhor your arrogance and smugness, and I resent the fact you believed you had the right to bring me here.” His eyes flashed with that abhorrence and resentment. “Who the fuck do you think you are, messing with my life?”

  Noah had no problem with Declan’s anger. He had no problem with Dec believing he hated him either. After all, one had to feel something passionately in order to understand it as hatred. And one thing Noah wanted was Dec’s passion.

  What he did have a problem with was standing here, in the middle of the hotel, where anyone could hear their discussion.

  It was no one else’s business.

  Without responding, he walked to the end of the passage, located their suite and let himself in.

  Chapter Two

  Before Noah could take the time to appreciate the luxury of the lounge room, Declan marched inside and slammed the door behind him. His bag hit the floor with a thunk. “Don’t walk away, asshole. Tell me who the fuck you think you are.”

  Noah placed his own bag and the computers on the couch before responding. “You know who I am. And you know who I think I am.” He looked at Declan. “Now you just need to think of me the same way again, and we’ll be good.”

  “You’re my business partner and friend. That’s it. That’s all. Nothing more. You don’t have the right to bring me here, to force me to confront issues or to bring the past into my present. Not any part of my past.”

  “Your past is screwing up your ability to have a present. Both your history with me and your history with her. You’ve been half existing ever since you called off the wedding. The only time I see any real emotion from you is when you’re front and center of a self-hate campaign. And that, my friend, is no emotion I wish to see again.”

  “My emotions are not your business.”

  “Hell, yes, they are. Your emotions are directly impacting my business. Our business. You haven’t spoken to a client in months, haven’t made a sale in the same amount of time and haven’t bothered to encourage our staff. You sit there in your office, working on fuck knows what, and I have to deal with all the shit on a daily basis. So don’t tell me it’s not my business.”

  “The fuck knows that I work on is the backbone of the business. The orders, the suppliers, the software. If not for me, there wouldn’t be a business.” He’d sweated bullets these last six months, throwing himself into EOL, trying to make it bigger, more successful. “So, yeah, you go ahead and woo our buyers and make our sales and keep our staff happy. And I’ll go ahead and make sure we have stock to sell to customers so we can pay our staff.”

  “Christ, Dec, this isn’t just about business. It’s about you withdrawing from life. You broke up with Tori, you didn’t kill her. You didn’t injure her. You didn’t perpetrate some violent crime. You used common sense and ended a relationship that was never going to last.”

  “I destroyed her life. Her future. I promised her things I couldn’t deliver. I let her down—and I did it on the same weekend I was supposed to marry her.”

  Interesting. Declan was focused on Tori’s pain, and not his own. “Granted, your timing sucked. But you did what you had to do. It doesn’t make you the devil.”

  “I hurt her.”

  “Yep.” No way around that. “But the pain would have been worse for both of you if you’d married her and committed to a life you didn’t want.”

  “And that right there is what you just don’t get.” Declan stabbed his forefinger in the air, reinforcing his statement. “I do want that life. I want to get married and have a kid and live happily ever after.”

  “Bullshit. You tried that with Tori. You gave it your best shot, and you couldn’t settle, you couldn’t marry, and you couldn’t live happily ever after because that is not what you want. It’s never been what you wanted.”

  “Yeah, genius? Well, if you know me so well, you tell me what I want. You paint a clear picture for me. You seem to know what I should be doing in my present, so fill me in. Tell me what I should be doing in my future.”

  Noah was tempted to paint the picture he saw so vividly in his mind’s eye. The whole picture. But Dec wasn’t ready to hear it all. Not yet. Noah needed to cool his heels and take this one step at a time “It’s simple. You want me, you always have, and you always will. So take me. Have me. Now, and in the future.”

  “Nope.” Declan stared at him, his gaze filled with conviction. “I stopped wanting you three years ago.”

  “Correction. You told yourself you stopped wanting me. But we both know that walking away from us didn’t stop you getting hard for me.” Of this, Noah was certain. He’d caught Declan staring at him too many times, his gaze hungry, his pupils dilated. Whatever else had or hadn’t happened since those days, Declan’s desire for Noah had never subsided. Just like Noah’s need for Declan hadn’t declined either.

  “I made a conscious decision back then.” Declan did not deny the truth of Noah’s words. “I chose the easy route. You were never that. Nor will you ever be that.”

  “But as it turned out, the easy route wasn’t so easy after all. Marrying one woman was way harder than you ever expected it to be.”

  Declan shrugged. “Tori was the wrong woman.”

  N
oah shook his head. “Tori was the right woman, and you knew it the second you laid eyes on her. She had it all. Looks, personality, humor, brains. Perfect marriage material and the perfect mother for your kids. It’s why you asked her to marry you.”

  Declan didn’t answer.

  “But the truth is, you don’t want any of those things. You don’t want the perfect mother and wife. You never have. What you do want is me.”

  “I want you to back off.”

  “Do you?” Noah raised an eyebrow as he stalked to cross the room. If his friend had an ounce of common sense, he’d turn around and get the hell out of there. But Declan was too thrown by his current surroundings to practice common sense. Just like they’d been in the car park, his defenses were sky-high. And when Declan got defensive, he stood his ground, ready to fight.

  “Back off, Noah. Get out of my space and get out of my head. You know jack shit about me.”

  Noah stepped closer. “I know you want me.”

  The dumbass didn’t move. He just puffed out his chest and pursed his lips. “I want to smash your face in.”

  Noah smiled and took another step. “But you won’t because you’ve used up your two get-out-of-jail-free cards as far as hitting me goes.”

  Declan’s hand clenched into a fist beside his hip. “And if I hit you anyway?”

  Noah shrugged. “You open the gate to getting physical, and once you do that, I’m going to step straight through it.” He intended to step through it anyway, but by warning Declan, Noah put the ball in his court. Noah stepped closer. “You want me, Dec. You want my tongue in your mouth and my dick in your ass. You want me by your side, not Tori. It was never about Tori.”

  Noah saw the exact second Declan made the choice. Saw it in the flash of determination in his eyes and the almost invisible flexing of his shoulders as he shifted slightly to the right and bent his knees. Had Noah not been so aware of Declan and everything about him, he may have missed it.

  But he was fully prepared for the uppercut. He watched as Declan’s hand thrust up in a rising arc, headed towards Noah’s chin. A perfect execution, he noted with a sense of pride. Declan hadn’t forgotten a thing Noah had taught him.

  Just like he’d done earlier, Noah blocked the punch with relative ease, only this time, he didn’t hold on to Dec’s fist. Instead, he looped both hands around the other man’s shoulders, scooped back under Dec’s forearms and grasped his arms tightly against his own body, holding him in a clinch.

  Declan growled in frustration, showing Noah his teeth.

  Noah hauled Declan even closer. No easy feat, seeing as the man stood a good half a head taller than he did and was in great shape, thanks to his CrossFit training. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about getting physical.”

  And with that, he did what he’d been waiting to do for three years. He set his lips on Dec’s and kissed him.

  Dec had no choice but to deal. He couldn’t go anywhere, not while Noah held him.

  Oh, he struggled. Fought against Noah’s grasp. Twisting his body one way then another while trying to shrug off his hands. He gave it his best shot, and Noah may have been tempted to release him, to just give it all up now, if not for two things: Declan’s frustrated growl turned into a frustrated groan, and with every twist of his body, Declan’s erection grew bigger.

  Even as he fought, Dec’s mouth softened beneath Noah’s. As he heaved his shoulders and attempted to throw his weight around, his lips molded and clung to Noah’s. And when Noah parted his own to give his tongue entry into Dec’s mouth, Dec’s parted too.

  But Dec’s acquiescence did not mean the kiss was gentle. Not in the least. It was a vicious clash of tongue against tongue, muscle against muscle. Even their teeth clinked together. Noah fought for dominance, needing to tame Dec, to force him to see the rightness of their being together.

  Declan refused to be tamed. Not when rage still seethed through him, making every muscle in his body rigid and unforgiving. And not when he still so stubbornly refused to admit the happily married lifestyle was not right for him.

  So Noah changed tactics.

  He freed Declan’s arms, giving the man a chance to take the punch again. And as he did so, he intensified the kiss, deepening it while pressing his own erection against Declan’s.

  Tingles raced up his spine. Dec’s taut rod mashed up against his own sent a wave of lust crashing through him.

  Momentarily stunned by his freedom, Dec froze for a good few seconds. “Don’t,” he rasped hoarsely against Noah’s mouth. “Christ, Noah, please don’t.”

  But Noah did, kissing him with every bit of hunger he’d held inside for three years.

  And then Dec’s arm was moving, pulling back, away from Noah, and his elbow was bending.

  Noah tensed, preparing for the blow. He wouldn’t stop Dec. Not this time. If hitting him was the only way Declan knew to respond to Noah’s kiss, so be it. Perhaps the blow would help Declan finally find the strength to face himself again.

  Declan’s fist met his cheek, but instead of pressure and pain fanning out across the side of his face, Dec’s hand skimmed his cheek harmlessly.

  Dec opened his fist to palm Noah’s face, his firm yet light touch sending a flurry of sensation over Noah’s skin. And then Dec’s fingers were buried in Noah’s hair, his hand pressing against the back of his head, pulling Noah closer.

  “Can’t do this. Don’t want to,” Dec murmured, the grief and uncertainty clear in his voice. His eyes were grey with distress.

  This time, Noah didn’t kiss Declan. Dec kissed Noah, his tongue plundering Noah’s mouth, his hips rocking against Noah’s.

  Declan’s body remained rigid, but when he struggled, as he had before, it wasn’t to pull away, it was to move with Noah, to urge him, step-by-step across the room, until Noah’s back hit the wall and Declan had him wedged in.

  And then Declan really kissed him.

  Holy shit. Was this real? Was it happening?

  Did Declan actually have Noah trapped against the wall with his tongue in his mouth?

  He’d dreamed of this moment a million times over the last three years. Had woken up wet with come after each dream. Fuck knew it was something he’d wanted since the last time he and Noah had been together.

  Kissing him now, tasting the confidence on Noah’s lips and absorbing the strength in his body unleashed a yearning so primal Declan forgot he hated the man. He forgot to be angry. He forgot everything except the familiarity and foreignness of the body pressed to his.

  Part of his brain, a part that grew more distant with every caress of Noah’s hands on his arms, reminded him that this was wrong. This was not what he wanted. For years, he’d strived to live a normal life, to find the perfect girl and settle down, and this, here, could ruin it all.

  He should get the hell out of the suite. He didn’t want this. He had to stop.

  But the warnings grew dim and the reasoning behind the warnings unclear.

  Don’t want this.

  Can’t want this.

  Oh, but fuck, he did. He wanted Noah.

  He’d always wanted Noah, from the minute they’d met as uni students studying business science together. Even then Dec had known it would never work between them, could never work. But the knowledge hadn’t stopped the edgy need and the raw lust that had flared between them. Neither had it prevented the deep love that had blossomed, a love that had ensured they remained close even when Declan had called their relationship quits for the last time.

  Noah had dreamed about being together forever. Declan had imagined a life with a wife and kids. Their visions had always been irreconcilable.

  Noah’s vision of his future had been honest. Declan’s was a made-up piece of shit based on expectations he’d lived with his whole life.

  Yet somehow, now, the past and the expectations faded to insignificance as blood thumped through Declan’s groin, and his hips strained to get closer to Noah’s.

  God help him, he couldn’t get close enoug
h. Declan crowded Noah, pushing closer and closer still, dry humping him where they stood.

  Noah opened his arms and welcomed him. If not for their jeans, he’d be buried so deep in Noah’s ass he’d lose himself there all over again. Lose himself inside Noah, just like he’d done years ago, time and time again.

  It wasn’t just his dick he’d lost then. It was his heart and his soul too.

  And the funny thing? Noah wasn’t one who liked to be fucked. No, most of the times they were together, it was Declan who’d drawn his knees up, offering himself to Noah. But, God knew, if their clothes were gone now, Noah wouldn’t stand a chance of topping. Not after all this time.

  Declan had starved himself of a man’s body for years. Starved himself of this man’s body. The famine had left him ravenous.

  Noah’s touch undid him. It left every one of his intentions forgotten in a heap at his feet. The second Noah’s hand landed on his groin, the energy drained from Declan’s body. His craving left him helpless.

  Noah took control of the kiss, chasing Declan’s tongue back into Declan’s mouth. At the same time, he flipped positions, twisting them both around so Declan’s back was wedged against the wall and Noah hemmed him in.

  Declan relished every second of it. He let the wall take his weight, and he let Noah open his jeans and push them and his boxers down his thighs.

  He should say no. Should remember this wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he imagined his life to be.

  But Noah wrapped his big, hot hand around Declan’s shaft, and a shudder ripped through Declan. He was thrusting into Noah’s fist before his brain could tell him otherwise.

  Precome leaked from his slit. Noah must have felt the wetness because he tore his mouth from Declan’s with a harsh moan and stared down to where hand met hard-on.

  Declan wanted to look too. Wanted to see Noah’s fingers wrapped around his throbbing rod. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Noah’s face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shuttered and harsh breaths rasped from his parted lips.

  Noah looked hot. Fucking hot. And fucking turned on. As though the sight of Declan’s leaking cock had ramped up his desire. His expression ramped up Declan’s desire. His shaft grew inconceivably bigger, and Noah held him tighter, pumping him hard, his hand moving from the base to the tip, flying over his cock in rough, uneven strokes.