The Full Velocity Series Box Set

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The Full Velocity Series Box Set Page 55

by Tracie Delaney


  “Yes,” I adamantly stated. “I can’t tell you when, but I would have.”

  She nodded, which I took as a positive sign she believed me. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

  I threaded our fingers together. “Follow me.”

  The elevator doors opened on the seventh floor. I led her down the hallway to my room. Opening the door, I ushered her in ahead of me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She pivoted slowly, gazing up at me through her long, natural lashes, her eyes the striking blue of the deepest oceans. “I ate on the plane,” she said, her voice a hoarse, croaking rasp that went straight to my dick.

  A dart of pink tongue dampened her bottom lip.

  I fell on her like a starving man at a buffet. My mouth crashed against hers, our tongues entwining. I thrust my hands into her hair, angling her head, plundering, taking, drowning in her. Deft fingers unbuckled my belt. She tore open my button fly, her hand delving inside. A throaty growl escaped from my chest, hers a soft, contented sigh.

  “God, I’ve missed you. I need you inside me. I’m empty without you.”

  Well, fuck. I gripped her wrist, halting what would probably have been the fastest orgasm in history. “Riles, we need to talk.”

  “And we will.” She bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “Fuck now, talk later. I need this, Devon.”

  She yanked down my jeans and boxer briefs in one fluid movement, gripped the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head. Her clothes swiftly followed until she was naked before me. Beautiful, glorious, stunning.

  Mine.

  She sank to her knees and put her mouth on me.

  Done. For.

  Bracing my back against the doorway, I closed my eyes, sinking into the pull-suck-tongue motion that Reilley mastered better than any woman I’d ever slept with. An embarrassing thirty seconds later, my balls tightened.

  “Stop.” I tugged on her hair, forcing her to release me. I picked her up, carrying her over to the bed. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

  She parted her knees, allowing me to slip a finger inside her. I covered her thighs with soft kisses, then moved to her abdomen, her breasts. She thrust her hips upward, the movement sharp, greedy, demanding. I added a second, her lingering groan a positive sign to continue, to give her more. I settled between her legs and lazily circled her clit with the tip of my tongue. She bucked, her pelvis thrusting upward. I moved my forearm across her stomach, pressing her spine into the mattress.

  My strokes were slow, laser targeted, my fingers curling, grazing the front wall of her vagina.

  “Ah, dammit,” she expelled, then came, her muscles pulsing, clutching and releasing my fingers in a rapid, furious beat.

  I covered her mouth with mine, buried my hands in her hair. Positioning myself, I pushed forward, once, sliding into her warmth.

  I buried my face in her neck, my lips touching her soft, damp skin, moving my hips slowly at first, then more rapidly as my own orgasm hurtled toward the finish line at blistering pace. My balls drew up, and I climaxed, the strength of it momentarily stealing my breath. I groaned, softly, then louder when Reilley scored her nails down my back.

  Conscious of my weight on top of her, I rolled to the side, still panting, my hand automatically reaching for hers, needing to maintain the close contact, worried that now the physical desire had been temporarily assuaged, she’d retreat from me again—as she had a fortnight ago.

  Like two magnets unable to resist the pull of physics, we turned over, our faces mere inches apart. Reilley tucked her hands beneath her head, blinking slowly.

  I explored her face with my fingertips. She covered my hand with her own, holding my palm to her cheek.

  “Tell me what to do, Riles,” I whispered. “Tell me how I can fix this.”

  She blinked, her expression darkening. “I want to understand why, Devon. Why, when you profess to love me, you didn’t tell me. Why I had to hear it from a complete stranger who, let me tell you, took glee from my ignorance.”

  “I do love you.”

  A glimmer of a smile touched her lips, plump from kissing. I wanted to kiss her again.

  “I know. Help me figure this out. Talk to me.”

  I took a deep breath, held it in my lungs for a few seconds, waiting for the oxygen to calm the anxiety deep in my stomach.

  “After I got over the initial shock of Charlotte’s accident—and we made it through the first terrifying months when she suffered so many setbacks, her doctors constantly warning me she wouldn’t make it—the realization of what I’d done hit home. It hit me very hard. The crippling guilt, the night sweats, the insomnia where my mind would turn over and over, desperate for an alternative outcome, praying morning would bring me peace. It didn’t.

  “And then, mingled within the iniquity came the fear. Fear of people finding out what had happened, what I’d done, and blaming me for it. Hating me for it. Apart from my family, and Caroline, of course, Jack is the only one who knows.” I cupped her cheek, her face still flushed from the aftermath of sex. “I had no choice but to tell Jack. I needed a lot of time off, as I’m sure you can imagine. Jack’s support both then and now humbled me. He could have, and probably should have, replaced me on the team, but he didn’t. When I couldn’t make the races, he’d bring in backup. If the press asked about my whereabouts, which they did, often, he’d refuse to expand other than to say I was taking some time out.”

  “Ah,” she said. “That squares a circle. The rumors were you’d suffered burnout.”

  “I know,” I said. “Jack and I agreed we’d happily allow those rumors to spread. It suited my agenda, although it made Jack appear a bit of a taskmaster.” I laughed. “And he is, too.”

  “He’s a good boss to have.”

  I nodded. “The best. That’s why he’ll always have my loyalty and heartfelt gratitude.” I paused for a second, organizing my thoughts, grappling with how to explain my reasoning for not telling Reilley.

  “After Charlotte, I didn’t touch another woman until you. I couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, in case the whole sorry mess spilled onto the bloodied pavement. So I avoided relationships. Then you propositioned me, your assurances of casual, of two people having a little fun so tempting to a man starved of a woman’s company, I relented.

  “I didn’t expect it to turn into this, to fall in love and have you return my feelings. I wanted to tell you, really I did, but the fear I mentioned, of people hating me? I couldn’t risk that with you. If I lost you, I-I don’t know what I’d do. And then Caroline,” I virtually spat her name, “couldn’t bloody resist.”

  Reilley leaned forward and kissed me, briefly, but the gesture sent my heart racing.

  “I don’t hate you, Devon. I never could. And neither could anyone else, apart from maybe Caroline.” She grinned. “Now she hates you.”

  I chuckled, the brief, lighthearted moment bringing much needed solace.

  “What happened to Charlotte was an accident. A horrifying, terrible accident with consequences no one deserves. But you have to quit punishing yourself. God, Devon, the support you’ve given her, and continue to give, is amazing. I wish you’d told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

  Hope sparked within me. “You do?”

  She kissed me again, squeezed my hand. “I did a lot of thinking these past two weeks, and I spoke to a trusted friend who gave it to me straight. The thing is, Devon, being without you is so much worse than coming to terms with the fact you kept Charlotte from me. Who knows, in your shoes I might have behaved in exactly the same way. I won’t allow this to come between us. What we have is too special, too rare. Finding love is hard. Finding ‘the one’ is tantamount to discovering a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  My throat tightened, and I swallowed, relief mingled with happiness causing a swell of emotion within me.

  “Then we’re good? Solid?”

  A teasing smile curved her lips, and she slipped her hand beneath
the covers and touched me. “Well, not yet, but give it a minute.”

  I laughed, rolling on top of her. “A minute? Try five seconds.”

  Reilley

  Sunlight streamed through the blinds, warming my face, bringing me softly into consciousness. I opened my eyes, squinting as the bright light hit my retinas.

  I stretched then slowly rolled over. Devon lay beside me, still asleep, an ebony shadow gracing his strong, firm jaw, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, his hair ruffled.

  I watched him, his expression restful, tired, no doubt, from the busy weekend, our heavy talk, and the marathon sex session that had gone on long into the night.

  We’d worked through all our frustrations, sexual and otherwise. I realized I’d forgiven him before I’d even landed in Singapore, but after our talk I understood him better. His sense of responsibility for Charlotte, ingrained in his very core, his determination to shoulder the blame, all these things culminating in being his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

  I loved him, regardless of all the baggage. I mean, who didn’t have baggage? He’d met mine. Every time I thought about Eric’s bloodied nose, I smiled. Hopefully, that’d be the last I’d ever hear from the sniveling little shit, although I’d only know for sure once The Piranha Club released. Babs would be keeping her eye out for the obligatory one-star review from my biggest fan.

  Asshole.

  But Devon’s lingering guilt did worry me. He’d done so much for Charlotte, yet remorse still ate away at him. I’d been racking my brain trying to come up with a solution to bring him the peace he so richly deserved. Normally, I’d say give it time, but it had been five years since Charlotte’s accident. Time wouldn’t cut it.

  Caroline’s constant needling wasn’t helping the situation either. We’d be having words if our paths ever crossed again. Her reasoning for informing me about Charlotte hadn’t been magnanimous. She’d had revenge on her mind, and she’d almost succeeded in her aim. Thank God for Babs’ straight talking and me finally coming to my senses.

  And then the answer came to me. I needed to go and see Charlotte. To talk to her, find out her side of the story. To listen to her thoughts about Devon, and that fateful day that changed the direction of both of their lives forever.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  I turned my attention to Devon. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed he’d awoken. I touched my lips to his. “You look gorgeous when you’re asleep.”

  He arched a brow, a teasing smile creeping over his lips. “Only when I’m asleep?”

  I pretended to consider. “Yeah. Awake you’re just plain ugly.”

  I found myself beneath him, his morning erection nudging at my entrance.

  “Cheeky wench,” he murmured, bending to kiss me. “Would you think of me as terrible if I fucked you without any foreplay?”

  I grinned. “Yes, truly awful.” I lifted my hips to welcome him into my body.

  He didn’t fuck me, though. He made love to me, slowly, tenderly, giving me everything he had and more. I held him close, his breath warm against my neck, our bodies and our souls connecting, fusing together. His hands skirted the sides of my waist, down to my thighs, back up, ending buried in my hair. I arched, reaching, seeking more contact, more friction, more Devon.

  Peaking, I groaned, my legs twitching, spasming. I spiralled into the abyss where pleasure lived. Devon followed me, finding his own release.

  He briefly rested his body on mine, but all too soon, he rolled to the side. He propped an arm behind his head, his eyes on the ceiling as he waited for his breathing to slow.

  “I want to meet Charlotte.”

  Devon’s head snapped around. “What? Why?”

  I placed my hand on top of his. “Because she’s a part of your life, and therefore, she’s a part of mine.”

  His eyes widened. “Christ, I don’t know. I mean, apart from her doctors and carers, the only people she’s been in contact with since the accident is me and Caroline. I don’t know how she’ll cope.”

  “Doesn’t she have parents?”

  Devon shook his head. “Their parents died when Charlotte and Caroline were in their early twenties.”

  “Oh.” God, the poor woman really had been put through the shittiest of times. “Can’t you ask her whether she minds?”

  His face creased in thought. “Let me think about the best way to approach her. I’m not sure when I’ll get to see her next, given none of the upcoming races are in Europe. I’ll prep the ground, but it might have to be after the season ends.”

  Three months. I could live with that.

  “Good with me.” I grinned. “I do have a book on a certain hottie to finish the edits on in the meantime.”

  I peered out of the car window at the snow-capped mountains of Switzerland as Devon expertly negotiated the narrow roads. I’d never visited Switzerland before, this part of the world hadn’t interested me. Seeing it now, that decision made no sense. Switzerland literally took my breath away with its imposing landscape, crystal-clear lakes, crisp air, and talk about clean. You could literally eat your dinner off the sidewalks. I hadn’t seen a speck of trash since we’d left Geneva, heading for Lausanne, about an hour away, where Charlotte’s rehabilitation facility was located.

  Devon had booked us into the Mövenpick Hotel, right on the banks of Lake Geneva. Across the road a cute little marina housed more fishing boats than fifty million dollar yachts, but I thought it was real charming.

  We checked in, unpacked, and freshened up after flying for what felt like hours.

  “Do you want to get something to eat or go straight there?” Devon asked, referring to Charlotte’s… home, I guess.

  “I’m not that hungry. Let’s go and see Charlotte, and then we can eat on the way back, maybe.”

  According to Devon, Charlotte’s place was about twenty minutes outside Lausanne, up in the mountains. I hoped to find a cute little mountainside restaurant, somewhere we could talk afterward. Something told me we’d be needing that conversation.

  Both of us were quiet on the drive. Devon still had his reservations, and we’d agreed that if Charlotte became in any way distressed, then we’d call the whole thing off. I had my reasons for wanting to speak with her, which I hadn’t shared with Devon. My main reason?

  I’d heard about the accident from Devon.

  I’d heard about the accident from Caroline.

  Now I wanted to hear Charlotte’s side of the story. Her accident had left her with horrific physical injuries, but at least advances in medicine had brought her here, with a chance, albeit a small one, of improving her quality of life.

  A gravel driveway led us to a set of controlled gates. Devon gave our names to the security guard and, after he’d checked a list, the gates opened, and we drove through. Devon pulled into a space with a sign that read ‘Visitors.’ Three other languages were engraved on the plaque, presumably with the same word. To our right sat a large, imposing building with huge pillars either side of a set of stone steps leading up to a set of double doors painted in a deep red.

  “Do you mind staying in the car while I go inside?” Devon asked. “I want to check with her doctors first that they’re okay with this, and then talk to Charlotte herself.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Of course not. It will be fine, you know.”

  He nodded, but I could see the skepticism in his pinched features and drawn brows. He got out of the car and trudged over the snow, his boots leaving deep impressions in the pristine whiteness. He disappeared inside, leaving me alone.

  I switched on the radio and, after a little fiddling, found a station playing pop songs in English. I closed my eyes, pulling my coat closer around me. Devon had turned off the engine, and the car quickly chilled. He wouldn’t be long, though.

  Sure enough, five minutes later, he appeared, his expression smoother than when he’d entered. He opened the driver’s door and poked his head inside.

  “All good.”
/>   I exited the car, and together we went inside. The interior of the building belied the austere outer shell. They’d already decorated it for Christmas with an imposing tree, in what I presumed was the reception area, chock full of ornaments and tinsel, and colorful lights.

  Devon took my hand and walked down a wide, bright hallway. At the end, we went to the left then climbed up a flight of stairs, took a right, then drew to a halt outside a thick, oak door.

  After a deep breath, he opened it, going in first. I followed.

  Charlotte sat by the window in a powered wheelchair with a headrest. I caught sight of a blonde head before the chair spun around to face us. I hadn’t expected that, but then I noticed something that looked remarkably like a straw in Charlotte’s mouth, and I figured that was the way she controlled her wheelchair.

  “Charlotte, this is Reilley,” Devon said, padding across the room. “She really wanted to meet you today.”

  My heart clenched at the awfulness of her situation, but then I steeled my spine. If I were in Charlotte’s position, I’d hate people feeling sorry for me. I’d lay bets she felt the same.

  I smiled brightly and joined Devon. “Hi. It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Charlotte smiled, paused, then said, “Thank you. Sit. Won’t you.”

  She punctuated each word with a pause that I quickly assessed was down to the respirator attached to the back of her chair.

  God, how has she survived such an ordeal? I didn’t know her, and yet she humbled me. I considered myself a strong woman, but I didn’t think I’d have the strength to cope with the hand she’d been dealt, with as much calmness and dignity.

  Devon fetched a spare chair and indicated for me to sit. He hovered behind me.

  Charlotte’s eyes moved to his. “We’re good.”

  I realized she’d just dismissed him, and a nervous giggle erupted from within me. I didn’t know the reason for my edginess. I wasn’t usually the type to get stressed, but the man I loved had a history with the woman sitting before me—albeit brief and with disastrous consequences—and I couldn’t help the bite of anxiety swirling inside my gut.

 

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