Daring Devlin

by Jessica Lemmon

  Well, it was good, but everyone finding out was not good.

  The staff needed to believe we’d argued. And Rena and I had to sell it. I’d bet my restaurant that she only ever told the truth. I could work with that. If she believed I was angry despite what had just happened, her reaction would be what I needed it to be. That meant I’d have to lay it on thick.

  “You ever pull a stunt like you did tonight, Lewis,” I shouted, knowing my voice would carry past the door, “I’ll fire your ass. I don’t give a shit how privileged you think you are; you have a job to do. If you’re on the clock, I expect you to do it.”

  Her eyes clouded with confusion a second before they glittered with anger. I thought I saw the beginning of tears. Perfect. That was what I needed everyone to see. That I was an unfair asshole.

  I pulled open the door for her. “You can go.”

  A small audience of five had gathered outside the door. Their expressions of shock and disgust were priceless. Before Rena made it over the threshold, I called her name.

  She spun around, the hurt on her face so prevalent my heart lurched. I would explain later, I vowed. Right now I had a show to perform.

  “Forget something?” I pointed at her apron on the floor.

  She pushed by me and snatched it, and then split the small crowd like bowling pins. I gestured for Melinda to come in, taking the hundred dollar bill from her outstretched hand. Kneeling, I opened the safe and counted out smaller bills to make change for her.

  “She’s different, isn’t she?” Melinda’s tone was disapproving.

  She was right, though. Rena was different. But Melinda meant it as an insult. I knew better. I hadn’t been looking for different, but Rena found me. And now I owed her an explanation for my behavior.

  Four hours later I was, once again, banging on her front door.

  Chapter Eight

  Rena

  Snow started to fall a little after midnight. The television was tuned in to a random sitcom, the canned laughter keeping me company while I sketched. I didn’t sketch Devlin. I hated him too much.

  Not for yelling at me, which I knew was for the sake of the servers loitering outside the door, but because he’d had my pants halfway off inside of a minute and I didn’t feel the least bit ashamed. Maybe I was mad at myself.

  With my ring finger, I shaded the edge of the beer bottle I’d drawn, considering. Would I have had sex with him in that office?

  Yes. I’d have let him feed my clothes into a shredder if there’d been one large enough to do the job. That was scary. I was supposed to be angry with him, and loyal to Joshua.

  I know how stupid that sounds. How can you be loyal to someone who’s not living? But that had been my coping mechanism—my psychologist’s words—since Joshua passed away. If I belonged to him, I was more incentivized to stay out of harm’s way.

  But after four and a half years of staying out of harm’s way, I’d apparently developed a fondness for harm. Nothing about Devlin was safe.

  I wanted to prove, if only to myself, that I was the same girl who’d talked Joshua into his first alcoholic drink. I’d been the one who’d pushed him into having sex. It was me who’d coerced him into skipping church to go down on me in the county fair parking lot.

  I liked that girl. Once upon a time, I’d embraced her.

  But when he’d died a saint—struck down by a drunk driver—I’d become a saint by proxy. I’d been in that car and I watched the accident happen. Lightning fast, and yes, I was tipsy, but I knew Joshua wasn’t looking at the road. Had he been looking, he might have seen the car run the stop sign. He hadn’t been looking because he’d been arguing with me. My last words to him—the last words he heard on this planet—were heated from the argument we’d been having. They echoed in my mind now. Look at me, Joshua.

  Then he had.

  Pounding on the door startled me. My arm jerked and the pencil in my hand made a harsh line over my careful shading.

  “Shit.” I set aside the sketchpad and muted the TV. Who the hell…?

  Tash, I assumed. By the sound of the knock she wasn’t happy. She and Tony probably had a fight and she had come over here to vent. I’d have to remember not to say I’d told her s—

  I pulled the door open, frozen in shock when I found Devlin instead of my crying best friend. Snow dotted his hair, and a thick gray-blue knit scarf was wrapped around his neck and tucked into a leather jacket zipped halfway up. The faint bruises on his face, the broad set of his shoulders, his torn jeans… every inch of him looked amazing.

  He watched me and I watched him as the seconds ticked by.

  “Hi,” he said, the word visible on the breath that left his lips.

  I cocked an eyebrow, refusing to respond.

  Before I could slam the door in his face, one palm hooked the side of my neck, the other locked on my waist. He smelled like the cold and some sort of liquor. Whiskey, maybe. I only ever drank light beer, so I wasn’t sure.

  His lips closed over mine and his tongue darted into my mouth. He tasted sweet and warm, and I melted into him. I wrenched the scarf from his neck and worked the coat from his shoulders as I dragged him into the house. He’d come to me. I couldn’t believe it.

  He kicked the door shut with one booted foot and pulled the band holding my ponytail free. A few hairs came with it, but the biting pain in my scalp felt almost good.

  Because he had caused it.

  His mouth left mine and his teeth raked against my lips and jaw. He bit the side of my neck gently before suckling my skin to soothe the pain. We kissed our way into the dark hallway, my back once again on the wall, the length of his hard body against my front.

  I wedged my hand into his pants and gripped his erection with one fist. His hands shaking, he lifted my shirt, electrifying my skin with his hot-and-cold touch. When he discovered I wasn’t wearing a bra, he stilled, his entire body as hard as the inches of him in my hand. Then he pinched one of my nipples. Hard. I cried out from the intense pleasure and he muzzled the sound with his mouth. His hot, wet tongue on mine spun my head. Righted my wrongs. Buried my skeletons.

  Is that what Devlin was to me? Some sort of liberator? In a way, he’d liberated me already. I was alive and aware, and for the first time in years, I realized I hadn’t died alongside Joshua.

  I was very much alive.

  Devlin thrust a hand into my yoga pants, his cool fingers finding their way into my cotton panties. He slipped over my center and moved the moisture through my folds. I was wet. So wet, I would have been embarrassed if I hadn’t been so turned on.

  Or if he hadn’t said, in a reverent tone, his forehead rolling on mine, “You’ve been making me crazy for a week.”

  He thrust a finger inside me, and when my mouth fell open, he kissed me, the seductive slide of his tongue against mine making me wetter.

  “I told you I was what you liked.” His voice was as raw as his method. Being wanted, feeling wanted after being closed off for years, was better than I’d imagined.

  And, oh, how I’d imagined.

  Another finger entered me, and my knees buckled. I had to brace my lower back against the wall to keep from sliding to the floor. Like I’d confessed to him earlier tonight, I’d never been taken against a door. I’d never been seduced. Never. And I would swear on a stack of Bibles that his touch and our frantic, sloppy pairing was what every cell in my body had ordered.

  “Take off your shirt and show me those beautiful nipples.” He slipped his fingers from my body, stroking my clitoris sensually. My mind hummed and my body buzzed and I hadn’t even orgasmed yet.

  I reached for the hem of my shirt as his fingertips danced. I closed my eyes.

  So good. So bad, but so good.

  I pulled off my shirt and dropped it on the floor. He wasted no time ravishing my breasts. His teeth snagged, his jaw raked. His touch hurt but satisfied at the same time. Gentle would have reminded me of Joshua, of the girl I no longer wanted to be. But Devlin, no… Devlin wasn’t
gentle. His fingers plunged deep again while his thumb played my clit like an instrument. A scream of release built in my throat, and I came as he strummed.

  His lips left my nipple and covered my mouth. My muffled cries spilled down his throat while his fingers continued to move. I crumpled against him, begging, bleating for him to stop because I couldn’t take any more… Just couldn’t take it…

  But I could. And I did. Another orgasm shattered me, shook my bones, and blotted out all other thought. A few ragged breaths later, after the fireworks had fizzled and the pulsing between my legs was only a dull thud, I opened my eyes.

  Devlin’s knee was wedged between my legs, which was the only reason my ass wasn’t on the floor. I guess my knees had given out after all. My breast was in his hand and a contented smile curled his beautiful mouth. He might just be the most gorgeous vision I’d ever seen.

  When enough strength returned into my limbs, I stood on my own. When he straightened with me, I pawed at his shirt. He let me strip him, helping me remove his sweater when I couldn’t reach higher than his shoulders. With his arms raised, I took a good look at the tattoo I’d caught a glimpse of the first night he’d come to my house. A number 7, in the same kind of font you’d see on a slot machine. The 7 was shaded black and located on the back of his arm. I wondered what it meant.

  Shirtless, he put his arms down. I ran a hand along his bare chest, admiring two flat brown nipples on a canvas of golden skin. I smoothed my palm over his rounded pecs dusted with dark hair and along a small silver scar next to his collarbone. I followed the trail of hair to his abdomen and stuck a finger into his belly button. His abs flexed, each line and dent begging to be tasted. Explored. His body was a perfect combination of sharp planes and rounded muscle. Every dangerous inch of him was mouthwatering.

  Hands splayed over his chest, I darted my tongue over one of his nipples, and then the other. He tasted clean, smelled like soap. I inhaled his essence as I dragged my short nails down his flat belly. When I pulled down his zipper, his cock brushed my hand. No underwear.

  I looked.

  Just looked and looked and looked.

  Joshua had been… well. He’d been eighteen. We both had. Now that I saw what Devlin was packing, I realized my high school boyfriend had done little to prepare me for this.

  Devlin’s penis was both wide and long, jutting upright from his body, straight and proud. There was no shame in what we were doing. There’d been no talk of love or promises. Of not going too fast. There’d been no preamble, no “touch me there for two seconds” or “just kiss the tip.” There was only him. Only me. Only whatever we wanted to do to each other.

  I wanted him.

  “Turn around.” His mouth hitched into an almost-smile. “I made you a promise earlier.”

  We’d fulfilled one of those “promises.” Now, I guess, it was time to move on to the next.

  Have you ever been taken from behind?

  Joshua had always insisted we look at each other, hold hands, and intertwine our fingers like they did in the movies. Do it in a bed. Not in the car. Never on the couch. Never in the hallway.

  So far, Devlin hadn’t been careful with me at all. He wasn’t going to ease me into our first time. He was going just… take me. And I wanted him to.

  His tongue slipped along mine, his mouth robbing me of breath. His face blotted out my peripheral vision. All I could see was him. His fingers pinched my nipples almost too hard, erasing the thoughts swarming my brain. When I whimpered, he eased off. I grabbed his cock with both hands and wondered what he might feel like inside me.

  Huge, I imagined. I swallowed, trepidation quaking my limbs.

  “Say yes, Rena.” His smirk was contagious.

  “Yes,” I whispered, and his fingers entered me again.

  Devlin

  Rena was so wet. I slipped past her silky folds and my dick pulsed in time with my heartbeat. I was past ready to be inside her.

  She was also nervous. Maybe even a little afraid. But not of me. I had the idea that her fear was from her reaction to me. Just when I thought I might go easy on her, the hand on my shaft squeezed. I pushed into her palm and ground my back teeth together.

  Fuck, yes.

  I assumed a quick bang against the wall wasn’t typically her style. How far would she allow me to take her? I was dying to find out. Already she was proving to be a girl I couldn’t scare away.

  I slipped my fingers from her core and gripped her hips, turning her to face the wall. She went willingly, putting her hands on either side of her head like she was under arrest.

  Cute. I untied and kicked off my boots, keeping my eyes on her body. Her pale nude back. The silken tumble of dark hair. She was too, too gorgeous waiting against the wall for me to come to her. I slipped my jeans off and stood behind her, naked. Now to get her the same way.

  I gripped the waist of her stretchy black pants and panties and eased them over her hips, revealing her smooth, round ass in all its glory. She was slim but curvy, her waist nipped in, her spine in a perfect straight line. I placed a kiss on the shadowed dent on the middle of her back—I couldn’t help myself. I pulled her pants off the rest of the way and threw them on top of my jeans.

  Closing my hand around one of her wrists, I lifted her arm over her head. Her back rose and fell with each of her quickening breaths. I moved her other wrist to join that one, pinning both of her hands to the wall with one of mine.

  “How you doin’?” I muttered as I shoved her dark hair aside.

  She nodded. Good.

  I drew a line down the center of her back. When I reached her ass, I skimmed my fingers between the cheeks and watched them clench. My mind whispered the words beautiful, exquisite, amazing. I said none of them. Compliments weren’t my forte.

  I slipped my fingers between her legs and groaned when I found her soaked. She was absolutely soaked for me. I approved. Inserting first one finger and then the other, I enjoyed her reaction more than my own gratification. Her body writhed while I took my time. Her movements were slow and languid while she arched into my ministrations. When she tugged her wrists, I tightened my grip until she settled once again.

  I kissed her back, first a soft press of my lips against her spine, then higher, and higher still. Covering her with my body from chest to balls, I licked and kissed the back of her neck, listening to her clipped exhalations. She reacted to me like we were kindred spirits. Impossible. She was Red Riding Hood to my Big Bad Wolf.

  I loosened my hold on her wrists, blanketing her body with mine. I wanted to please her. Not so she’d please me. Just because I really loved watching her shatter. That was new. Normally I was concerned about my own release. Every ounce of foreplay was leading up to the moment I got mine.

  I replaced my fingers with the head of my dick, dipping into her wetness, then out. She let out the cutest squeak when I started to enter her. My stomach tightened. I became even harder. Who knew I could get harder?

  Gritting my teeth through the pleasant pain, I released her hands.

  “Okay?” I whispered against her ear. Keeping her arms overhead, she nodded, her cheek on the wall. I gripped her hips with both hands and knelt for better access. She was so wet, so hot, I ached to drive into her and relieve the pressure continuing to build.

  Luckily my brain knocked my throbbing penis offline.

  Condom. There was a handy thought.

  “Don’t move.” I backed away, missing her warmth instantly. I snatched my pants and riffled through my wallet until I found one of the condoms I’d wedged in there last month. A month since I’d been laid. Not my longest stint, but pretty damn long.

  I rolled on the latex, musing how when I’d stashed protection in my wallet, I’d never imagined Rena. No part of me could have dreamed I’d encounter so much sweetness. Some of her hair had fallen over her back and I pushed it aside again. So much softness. I slid my hand down her back. So much trust. I drew my palm back and laid a sharp slap against her butt cheek.

&
nbsp; “Oh!” She pulled her arms down and pushed on the wall, sliding me the sexiest gaze over her shoulder. I couldn’t help grinning.

  “What are you waiting for?” She wiggled her ass.

  I crushed my body against hers, savoring the small chuckle that echoed from her throat. I licked her ear, then bit it lightly. My good girl wanted to be bad. Maybe she was bad only with me, which made my chest swell with pride.

  I grinned. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  No sweeter word could have been spoken. Bending my knees, I lined us up and eased into her. She accepted me, inch by agonizing inch, her channel wrapping around me like a warm, wet fist. She threw her head back, her hair tickling my chest and shoulder. A full-body chill raced down my spine and legs.

  Holding her hips, I took her earlobe between my teeth.

  “Okay?” I checked again.

  “Stop asking me that,” she demanded, reaching back and tugging my hair.

  I took that as an affirmative and drove into her to the hilt. She cried out and I uttered a harsh curse. I sank my teeth into her shoulder, easing up before I left a mark. Holding out hadn’t been a problem since I’d been a teenager, but I was struggling. I started listing stats from horse races and football games from the last decade to keep myself distracted. When she squeezed me from within and moaned my name, those numbers burst into flames.

  She moaned. My name.

  Air stuttered from my lips as I slid in and out. The way she’d said it, Devlin. Devlin… like a prayer. Or a wish. Or a dream that caused her to thrash and tangle her sheets, only to wake sweating, pulsing for release.

  I wanted her there, too. In sheets. This hallway hookup wouldn’t be enough, I thought with sudden, sickening clarity.

  She slammed against me, taking me deeper. I made it two, three more thrusts tops, before I spilled into the condom. I let her go to brace myself on the wall so that I wouldn’t collapse from the force of my orgasm. My other hand squeezed her hip and I struggled to regulate my breathing.

  “Devlin.” She turned her head and kissed me. It landed half on the corner of my mouth, half on my chin because of the awkward angle. “Devlin,” she repeated, her lips soft on mine. Her pliant body yielding to mine.