The Party Makeout

POV Eden

"Oh, uh… I was just…" I stammer out, pointing a shaky finger down the dark road. My brain stalls, failing to form a single coherent sentence as I stare at him.

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through the cool night air. The heavy door swings open, and he steps down from the massive black truck. Up close, the sight of him is staggering. The dim glow of the streetlamp catches his eyes, and I can trace the dark blue starbursts etched perfectly into his irises. The crisp, rich scent of his cologne washes over me, mixing with the sharp autumn chill. It is instantly intoxicating. He towers over my petite five-foot-one frame, casting a long shadow, and flashes a devastating, effortless smile.

"I’m Declan," he says, his deep voice wrapping around me. He jerks a thumb back over his broad shoulder, pointing into the spacious cab of the truck. "And that’s my brother, Lachlan."

I spot the other Vance boy sitting in the cab. I still have no clue which one locked eyes with me at the game, but my pulse is already racing.

"We’re heading to a party," Declan says, bringing his piercing blue gaze back down to mine. "Wanna come?"

*Yes.* The word screams through my mind.

But common sense kicks in. I do not know these boys. For all I know, stepping into a vehicle with two massive strangers in the middle of a deserted road is a terrible idea.

Declan must read the hesitation flashing across my face. He shifts his stance, leaning one heavy arm against the open door. "Or, we could give you a lift home. But you shouldn't be walking alone out here at night." His tone drops, turning firm and serious.

"Why?" I ask, wrapping my jacket tighter around my ribs. "Is it dangerous around here or something?"

"I'm guessing you're new to the area," he says, glancing up and down the empty street. When I give him a stiff nod, he continues. "I didn't think I'd seen you around before. And to answer your question, no. It's usually pretty quiet around here. But it's always better to be safe."

"True," I mutter, biting down on my bottom lip.

Declan dips his chin, forcing me to meet his gaze again. "So, would you like to go to the party with us, or do you want a ride home?"

I stare up at him. The party was exactly what I wanted. In fact, the entire reason I even considered going to the post-game bonfire is currently standing right in front of me, smelling like expensive cedar and looking like a Greek god.

I let out a breath and offer a bright smile. "I could party."

From inside the cab, Lachlan lets out a loud, approving cheer.

Declan steps back and holds the heavy driver’s side door open for me. I step closer, eyeing the massive gap between the gravel and the floorboard. The truck is lifted high, and I hesitate, trying to calculate the best angle to hoist myself inside.

Before I can struggle, Declan steps up behind me. His large, warm hands wrap firmly around my waist. His strong grip steals my breath straight from my lungs. With zero effort, he lifts me off the ground and deposits me onto the leather bench seat.

"Thanks," I breathe out, my skin tingling where his palms just pressed into me.

I scoot over to the middle, settling into the tight space between Declan and Lachlan. The heat radiating off their large bodies warms the cool air inside the cab. Declan climbs in, pulling the heavy door shut, sealing us inside. He shifts into gear and the truck rumbles forward, heading down the same winding road I was just walking.

"I'm Eden, by the way," I say.

Lachlan leans forward, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "So, Eden, how'd you like the game?"

"It was great," I say, glancing between the two brothers. "I haven't been to a football game in so long. And you guys were awesome out there."

I watch Declan’s hands grip the steering wheel as he turns onto my street. The party house is just a few blocks past my own place. I decide to play dumb, wanting to figure out their dynamic and confirm my suspicions.

"Although, I'm not sure who's the wide receiver and who's the quarterback," I say smoothly, looking from Lachlan over to Declan.

"I'm QB," Lachlan says. He nods his chin toward his brother. "Dec is wide receiver."

My mind races. *Interesting.* It was definitely Declan who noticed me in the bleachers. The wide receiver. The one who just lifted me into his truck.

We pull up to the curb near the party. I can already hear the heavy bass thumping through the walls of the massive house down the block. Cars line both sides of the street, and teenagers spill out onto the front lawn. I spot my own house a short distance away. At least I won't need to navigate a ride-share later tonight.

Lachlan pushes his door open and hops out. Declan cuts the engine, steps out, and turns back to face me. He reaches his hands out, offering to help me down. I take the silent offer, not wanting to risk twisting my ankle in the dark.

I slide off the slick leather seat. Declan’s hands lock around my waist again, gripping me tight. As I drop down to the ground, my body slides flush against his hard front. The heavy friction of my body dragging down his solid torso sends a sharp jolt straight to my core.

My feet hit the pavement, but we do not step apart. Our bodies remain pressed together. I look up. Declan’s blue eyes darken at the heavy contact. His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering on my lips, before tracking back up to meet my eyes. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching.

He lifts one hand from my waist. His rough fingers gently brush a stray strand of hair away from my face. His thumb grazes the soft skin of my cheek, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

"Thanks," I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.

"Let’s go get you a drink," Declan murmurs, his voice a low rasp. "I'll get you a bottle when we get inside. Just don't take anything from anyone, okay?"

I blink, stepping back just an inch. "Uh, should I be worried?"

He bites his lower lip and lets out a dry chuckle. "It's just always better to be safe."

I narrow my eyes, studying his tense expression. "That's the second time you've said that. Should I be worried about something specific?" I glance past his broad shoulder toward Lachlan, who is already jogging up the lawn toward the front porch.

Declan looks toward the loud house, then turns his full attention back to me. His expression hardens into something fiercely protective. "There have been instances of girls' drinks being roofied around here. Guys taking advantage of them."

I stare at him, processing the blunt warning. He looks genuinely concerned, though I barely know him. The harsh reality of his words makes the loud, chaotic party suddenly feel much more intimidating.

"Oh," I say, my stomach twisting into a tight knot. I glance down the dark road toward my empty house, suddenly debating if I should just walk home.

Declan steps closer, blocking my view of the road. "It will be fine," he reassures me, his deep voice dropping into a soothing cadence. "Just don't take anything from anyone other than me. I will bring your drink to you, and I'll open it right in front of you so you know it's safe."

His intense protectiveness instantly melts the lingering unease twisting in my gut. He cares about the safety of a girl he just met ten minutes ago. It is unexpected and oddly touching.

Declan flashes a confident wink. He reaches out and laces his large fingers through mine. The warmth of his palm against mine replaces my nerves with a massive swarm of butterflies. With a firm, reassuring tug, he leads me up the driveway and into the party.

The inside of the house is a chaotic madhouse. Blasting music vibrates the floorboards. Crushing bodies press together in the narrow hallways, holding red plastic cups and shouting over the heavy bass. The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and sweet perfume.

The second we step through the front door, people start shouting Declan's name. Guys holler and raise their cups in the air. He returns their greetings smoothly, doing complex handshakes and handing out one-armed bro hugs, slapping his teammates on the back. But through all the chaos, he never once lets go of my hand. Every few minutes, he gives my fingers a gentle squeeze, leans down close to my ear, and whispers, "You okay?"

I nod every time, smiling up at his handsome face.

He navigates us through the sweaty crowd into the kitchen, snags two sealed glass beer bottles, pops the caps right in front of my face just like he promised, and hands one directly to me.

Before long, we push our way out into the center of the living room, which has been cleared out to create a makeshift dance floor. The buzz from my single beer settles into a perfect, warm hum in my veins. But the alcohol has nothing to do with the intoxicating, overwhelming heat building rapidly between Declan and me.

We face each other, our beer bottles raised in the air to avoid spilling them on the crushing crowd pushing in on all sides. I brace my free hand around his waist, my fingers gripping the thick belt loop of his jeans. I let the heavy, rhythmic beat of the music take over, rolling my hips in perfect time with the heavy bass. I step closer, grinding my hips against his pelvis.

Declan groans softly. He wraps a heavy arm around my lower back and pulls me flush against his hard body. He reaches up, gathering my hair and sweeping it over my shoulder. He dips his head and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses into the sensitive skin on the side of my neck. A heavy, throbbing ache instantly forms between my thighs.

I turn around in his arms, putting my back to his broad chest. I roll my hips backward, grinding into him as we dance. Declan steps into my space, sliding one of his thick thighs right between my legs. I am practically straddling his leg while standing up. The friction sends another intense jolt of raw heat through my core.

I lift my bottle, taking a long drink of the cold beer to soothe my suddenly parched mouth. I reach back, wrapping my hand around his waist just above his ass, bracing myself against his solid frame as I move to the beat.

A guy shoves past us on his way to the kitchen. Declan taps his shoulder and casually hands off both of our empty glass bottles. The second his hands are free, he slides them deep into my back pockets. He grips my denim-clad ass, pulling me tight against his straining crotch. I tilt my head back against his shoulder. He lowers his head, hovering right over my face. His breath fans across my cheek—a heady, wild mix of sharp mint and stale beer.

I stare up into his dark blue eyes. The starbursts are swallowed by his blown-out pupils. I keep rolling my hips against his hard arousal, keeping time with the heavy bass vibrating the floor.

Declan trails a hot kiss along my jawline. He slowly shifts his face over mine. When he finally claims my mouth, his lips are exactly as soft and demanding as I imagined they would be. I part my lips, letting his tongue sweep inside. He tastes like mint and raw male heat.

We stay out there on the crowded dance floor for what feels like hours. We grind against each other, making out under the flashing strobe lights. I am practically aching with need, my entire body humming. He is rock hard, the thick ridge of his cock pressing undeniably against my stomach and grinding between my thighs through the thick denim of our jeans. Every single touch from him lights me up like a live wire. His hands roam all over my body, tracing up my sides, gripping my waist, sliding up to cup the back of my neck.

Declan tangles his strong fingers deep into my hair. He deepens the searing kiss, sucking softly on my bottom lip, and slowly begins backing me off the dance floor. He guides us away from the heavy crowd and the prying eyes of his teammates.

He pulls away, breaking the wet kiss. He rests his forehead against mine, his chest heaving as he pants for air. The hard, heavy proof of his arousal pushes insistently against my stomach. His eyes blaze with a feral, matching fire. He wants this just as badly as I do.

He stares down at me, his gaze dropping to my swollen lips, silently asking the question.

I give him an imperceptible, encouraging nod.

Declan lets out a ragged breath. He reaches down, laces our fingers together once more, and turns. He leads me out of the living room, pulling me up the carpeted stairs, navigating the darkened hallway until he finds an empty bedroom.

He pulls me inside. The exact second my back hits the closed wooden door, Declan’s mouth is back on mine. He devours me. His hands fly to my waist, roaming my body with frantic urgency. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him back with everything I have.

But just as the frenzy peaks, just as my fingers dive under the hem of his shirt to feel his hot skin, Declan suddenly pulls back. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. His chest heaves.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick and rough. His gaze searches my eyes, filled with intense, striking vulnerability. "You've drank, and I don't..."