Chapter 31

Declan

They say blood is thicker than water, but I’m starting to have my doubts.

My brothers and I decided to stay away from Aurora, but it’s getting harder and harder every day. She’s on my mind constantly.

If you’ve ever been tempted by candy or drugs or gambling…then you know where I’m at.

She’s the apple that could force a man to take that fatal bite. I want this woman. No, I need this woman.

I had one night with her, and she hasn’t left my mind for a goddamn second. What the fuck is the matter with me? I haven’t felt this way about a girl since, well, never.

The Grayson name is synonymous with being an unfeeling asshole. But she makes me feel things—and I’m starting to think I can’t ignore that anymore.

My assistant waves her hand in front of my face. “Declan, focus, man. Come on, already. Every hour that these girls are here, we’re paying them for nothing.”

She’s right. I have ten models nude and ready to shoot, but my frame of mind isn’t in the game.

I need to get my shit together and stop obsessing over a ghost. I should’ve never agreed to this bullshit deal.

I stand back, looking from one girl to another. Each one of these women are stunning, but none compare to Aurora.

I’ve recently found myself comparing every hot chick that comes my way to a woman I barely know. Obsessing over a woman isn’t normal for me, and I need to get her out of my head—or into my bed.

“Alright. You, the redhead, I need you posing on the black stool,” I say, nodding to the dark canvas to the right.

I’m not the kind of man who loses focus when they see a girl. But the night that I met Aurora, the night I felt her virgin pussy, well, my brain went south for the winter.

“Can you fucking just pose right? Not so stiff,” I say impatiently.

The model moves stiffly and does nothing for my lens. At this rate, we’ll be here all day.

“Goddammit! Get it right or get the fuck out. We don’t have time for amateurs,” I practically scream.

My voice echoes through the studio. The model looks afraid, all of them do.

I’ve worked with most of these girls for months now, and they know the routine. Sure, at times, they get on my nerves, but nothing like they’re doing today. My patience is running on empty, and if I don’t snap, I’ll be fucking shocked.

The entire studio stops, waiting for another explosion. I need to fix this mood before I do something irrational.

“Take five. I need to make a phone call,” I say.

I walk off, phone in hand, and plan on doing something I swore I wouldn’t.

I’m going to break the rules and call Aurora.

I can’t get her off my mind. Even being around ten nude models with incredible bodies does nothing to satiate my aching cock. There’s a need inside of me, a desire that must be filled, or else I know I’ll fucking explode.

I just need to get in one more fuck with her, have her all to myself instead of sharing, and then this will all be over, and I can resume my normal life.

Fucking Aurora, the virgin temptress.

I dial the number she gave me the other night. When it gets to the second ring, I begin to doubt myself and hope she didn’t screw me over and hand out a fake number.

This isn’t like me. I’m always fucking confident. But with her, I just don’t know.

I’m about to hang up when a voice on the end says, “Hello?”

It’s her voice.

My cock rises to occasion, ready for round two.

“Hey, Aurora. It’s Declan. How are you doing?” I ask.

Breathless, her voice sounds like a fucking dream come true.

“Doing very well, now that I hear your voice, thanks. What’s up?” Aurora asks.

Fuck me now. The sound of her voice, her endearing words—everything points to her feeling something for me, too. My confidence is back, and this time, it’s in overdrive.

“I’m going to an art opening tonight and wanted to see if you’d be interested in going with me. Semi-formal, but it should be a good time,” I propose.

She agrees right away to go with me, giving me hope that maybe she has feelings, too. Maybe I’m not alone in this.

Before ending the call, I tell her a limo will pick her up at eight tonight.

I should feel like shit for breaking the rule, but that’s not who I am. I don’t care what my brothers think, because I know them too well. I would be surprised if they didn’t do the same at least once.

I leave the rest of the shoot in the hands of my assistant. She’s not as good as I am, but for today, I’ll settle on her finishing up.

I’m sure the models are happy that I’ve decided to step back for the day. I’m a hard-ass, but today was extreme, even for me.

Arriving back at my penthouse, the first thing I need is a quick shower, a shave, and something to wear that will make Aurora cream her panties.

Damn, just thinking about the way that pussy smells and tastes has me in need of stroking one out. I should, but I don’t want to waste a good nut.

I order the limo to arrive at Aurora’s house at eight on the dot, giving myself a few hours to get ready.

Stop acting like you haven’t done this a thousand times, I scold myself. You’re a Grayson, now act like it.

I’m not the type to be nervous, but this girl has cast a spell on me. The moment I saw her on the stage, I knew I needed her in my life. Maybe she’s the missing piece of a puzzle I never thought was possible.

Or maybe I just need her for one good fuck.

First, I need a suit. Something in a charcoal grey to accent my eyes. I know Aurora must dream about them every time she closes her eyes

Every woman who ever gets a chance to be with me does. At 6’4 and with twelve inches of thick cock, I know I left a lasting impression on her. I do on most women.

But I remember that night. I remember the way Aurora gazed at me, like I was her fucking prince, her dream come true—and that’s the feeling I just can’t shake.

Standing in my walk-in closet, the perfect choice would be an Armani custom-made suit. This suit costs more than some make in a year, but I’m worth it.

My taste in clothing is as selective as my taste in women. Besides, I consider Aurora to be high-end, as well. We spent enough on her at the auction to know that.

She’s a fucking prize worth keeping, and I will make her mine.

After a long hot shower, I can’t help but take a moment to admire myself in the full-length mirror. I work out five days a week to achieve this body, and it’s worth for nights like this when I want to look good.

My chiseled abs will compliment the suit perfectly, and I know I’ll turn heads—I just hope it’s Aurora who sees me tonight, not the other usual women I’m used to bedding.

I’m not cocky. Just confident in who I am.

She deserves the best, and that’s what I want to be.

I strut through the penthouse completely naked. I crank up the music and do a couple push-ups to ensure that I’ll be in fine form tonight. I make a drink...scotch neat. Then I go to put on some cologne and don on my suit. It’s all fucking there, all the elements. I only need to sweep her off her feet, and I’ll be good.

I brush my fingers through my dark hair and study my reflection. Everything’s in place to make this night special. Tonight means too much for me to fuck it up.

Aurora will be shocked to see that it’s an erotic art show—a little detail I forgot to mention. I don’t want to scare her away. And yet I do need to introduce her to my lifestyle at some point.

I can only hope she keeps an open mind. Not many do when it comes to erotica. But to me, it’s a form of foreplay, and I’m sure she’ll enjoy it…she had better.

Besides, some of the best artists in the world will have their work on display there. And I have a few photographs, as well, that have been hung. What better way to show this girl what I’m made of?

Checking my watch, I see I have thirty minutes to kill. Cancelling the limo, I decide to pick Aurora up myself. Having my black Mercedes brought around to the front of the building, I think it will be a better touch for me to be there in person rather than a limousine.

One last look, and I know this woman will be begging to please me before tonight’s even over.

That’s the goal, at least.

I take the private elevator down, bypassing all the stops that ordinary people would have to endure. Two minutes later, I’m in the Mercedes, pulling out into traffic.

The sounds of Andrea Bocelli radiate through the car, relaxing me. I need all the relaxation I can get, with my cock straining through my pants at the thought of seeing her. My taste in music is as refined as my women, too.

I require the best in everything, because after all, it’s the Grayson way.