Not a fraction of the happiness she’d found in Devon’s arms, that was for sure.
The elevator chimed—even the ding to let them know they were at Devon’s private floor was elegant—and the door slid open.
“Good evening, Mr. Sparks.” The quiet voice of Daniel Tan, Devon’s assistant, broke Lilah out of her momentary fantasy of falling on Devon and taking him by storm the instant they were inside the apartment.
A flash of guilt assailed her. Right, the assistant. There to babysit Tucker. How could she have forgotten?
“I’m going to go check on Tucker,” she said. “Is he in bed?”
“All tucked in and sound asleep, last time I poked my head in,” the young Asian-American man assured her.
“Thanks, Daniel,” Devon said. “I appreciate you doing this on short notice.”
“Anything for you, Mr. S, you know that. Listen, a quick thing about tomorrow’s calendar. Simon keeps calling, and I wasn’t sure how you wanted me to handle him …”
Lilah left Devon negotiating his schedule and headed down the hall to Tucker’s room. There she found Tucker sound asleep, looking tiny in the full-size bed. He slept on his stomach with one hand fisted by his face, the other buried under his pillow. His dark sable hair, so like Devon’s, was a mass of tufts and spikes against the white cotton pillows.
A warm, solid presence at her back made Lilah smile.
“Is he asleep?” Devon’s voice was hushed, almost awed, like a man talking during a hymn in church.
She murmured an assent and gave him a moment to take in the peaceful sight of his son slumbering away before she closed the door softly.
The living room appeared to be empty. Lilah glanced around and said, “That Daniel seems like a real nice boy. Did you send him on home?”
Devon nodded, his eyes kindling. “It’s just you and me.”
A shiver of delight raced through Lilah. She felt bold and fearless, but at the same time so full of nervy anticipation it was like her belly had been hollowed out to make room for a colony of junebugs.
“I want to make one thing clear before we do this,” Lilah said, mouth dry. She turned to face him and forced herself to look him dead in the eye.
Devon cupped her cheek. His palm was rough in some places, soft in others, warm and strong all over. Lilah wanted to push into it like a cat, but she had a topic to discuss, dang it!
“What’s that, Lilah Jane?”
Suppressing the shimmy of happiness her full name in his voice always caused, Lilah said, “I told you before. I’m not Jane Eyre—you’re not Rochester.”
“And thank God for that. Doesn’t he get caught in a fire caused by his psycho wife and go blind?”
Lilah raised her brows. “Look at you, getting al literate. But that’s not what I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I meant I’m not going to fall madly in love with you if we h-have sex again.”
Curses, how could she stumble over that last part? What a dweeb.
Devon didn’t seem to mind, though, if the amusement brightening his eyes to sky blue was any indication.
“Very reassuring,” he told her gravely. “Although if I were you, I wouldn’t make any promises I might not be able to keep.”
With that infuriating remark, Devon swooped his head down and took her mouth, stealing the indignant retort right off her lips.
Her irritation at his cocksure manner burned to ash in the fire of that kiss. Their tongues danced and stroked, stoking the flames higher. Devon’s hands were never still, sweeping down her sides and back up, knuckles grazing her jaw, her neck, fingers tightening in her hair.
Lilah gave it all up to him, throwing herself into the moment with the abandon she’d always dreamed of. It felt amazing, like flying, and suddenly greedy for more, she fisted her hands in his shirt and dragged him even closer. Their bodies aligned, Devon stooping and curving his body around hers to make the fit better, and then they were writhing against each other.
The friction of her own clothes was driving her crazier than Rochester’s wife. Lilah panted into Devon’s mouth, desperately wanting the clothes to just melt away like they did in books.
Her shirt stayed stubbornly in place, however, until she collected the presence of mind to let go of Devon in favor of wrestling with her own buttons. Tiny, fiddly little things, they didn’t want to come undone, and Lilah tugged at them, nearly sobbing against Devon’s kiss, frustrated beyond belief.
“This shirt is hideous anyway,” Devon told her before gripping the col ar and tearing it right down the middle.
Lilah gaped, shocked, but she didn’t have time to dwell on Devon’s fashion critique or his act of wardrobe violence because in the next instant his hands were on her skin, hot and sure against her soft belly. She shuddered under the stroke of his fingers, firm enough not to tickle—but the sensation was like that, so intense as to be almost unrecognizable as pleasure.
The rest of her body didn’t seem to share Lilah’s confusion. Her knees weakened, forcing her to lean into Devon; Lilah felt herself grow humid and hot between her thighs.
“Can we maybe take this someplace more private than the living room?” she gasped out while she still had the brainpower.
“Your room is closer,” Devon said, wasting no time in steering her down the hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lilah hustled, not because Devon was prodding her so much as because she had a sudden fear that she’d lose her nerve if they didn’t get on with it.
Despite what she’d told Grant, and despite her body’s clamoring desires, this was a big step for her. Bigger than her reckless decision to indulge in a one-night stand with a handsome stranger.
This was real. This meant something. She wasn’t sure what yet, but …
“Having second thoughts?” Devon asked, pinpointing her mood with uncanny accuracy.
Lilah opened her bedroom door, doing a quick scan to make sure she hadn’t left anything unmentionable lying around. But she’d only unpacked that afternoon, so things were relatively tidy. It was strange to see Devon standing there beside her bed; it was a sizable room, but his presence filled it from corner to corner.
She leaned back against the door. The heavy paneled wood was a welcome chill against the heated skin of her naked back.
“Why should I be? We’ve already done this once. It’s old hat at this point.” Just because she was a little nervous was no reason to suddenly start acting like a maiden aunt with an attack of the vapors.
“Old hat.” Devon was laughing at her, the pig, but with his eyes only. His beautiful mouth was as solemn as ever.
“Not that I’m a tramp!” Lilah said. “I wouldn’t want you to think that. Back home in Virginia, there weren’t that many eligible men running around, and most of them tended to go for the debs and miniJunior Leaguers, not high school English lit/drama teachers who still lived with their aunt and uncle. But I had one boyfriend, Preston Langford was his name, he worked at the high school, math teacher, and we went out for about a year. Mostly because neither one of us had much else to do, and it seemed like a suitable match on the surface.”
Devon stalked closer while Lilah babbled. She watched him warily, but he didn’t reach for her until she, mercifully, ran out of air and had to draw a breath.
“But underneath the surface,” Devon cut in smoothly, lifting his hands to her hips and drawing her away from the door, “deep down, you wanted more than a ‘suitable,’ convenient man.”
His fingers burned into her flesh even through the material of her khaki slacks.
“I did,” she agreed breathlessly, her hands coming up of their own volition to grab Devon’s wrists where he held her. From there, her greedy fingers inched their way up his arms to his powerful shoulders, gripping hard.
“So when we met that night at the bar and you kissed me before you even knew my name …”
Fire swept up Lilah’s neck and into her cheeks. She was lucky the top of her head didn’t go up in smoke. �
�Yes?” she squeaked.
“That was a test, wasn’t it? Not of me—you weren’t trying to see if I was the ‘something more’ you’d been looking for. You were testing yourself, to see if you had the guts to go after what you wanted.”
His quiet perception knocked Lilah sideways. She blinked. “The whole world’s got you pegged wrong, and what’s more, you actively encourage it. It’s completely unfair and tricky of you to turn out not to be an arrogant bastard whose only concern is himself.”
Something flickered through Devon’s expression before his mouth curled up in a sneer. “Don’t kid yourself, my little country mouse. I’m every bit as self-involved as they say. My only real concern in life is to get exactly what I want. And at this particular moment, what I want more than anything in the world is … well, you.”
Against her will, Lilah’s heart did an odd, fluttering dance in her chest.
Stop it, she scolded herself. That body part is not supposed to be engaged in what’s about to happen.
“I want you, too,” she said, determined to be bold. “So what happens now?”
Rather than answering her in words, Devon dipped his head to deliver more of those intoxicating kisses.
Lilah surrendered gladly, so happy to abandon the awkward, nervy whirl of her thoughts for the pure sensations coursing through her awakening body that she nearly missed it when Devon’s hand reached around to deftly unhook her bra.
“Heavens, you’re good at that,” she gasped, feeling the cotton slip down her arms.
“You know what they say,” he breathed against her neck. “Practice, practice.”
The loathsome man kissed his way down to the hollow of her throat where her pulse kicked like a mule. He took a moment to suck a mark into her skin, drawing prickles of sensation up to the surface, before moving on to her collarbone, her chest, her soft, heavy breasts.
Lilah fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. The overabundance of her curves was a source of embarrassment, and there was something about them in their naked state that accentuated their bounty.
Devon lifted a hand to cup her softly. He made a rough noise, deep in his throat, and Lilah stared down at herself, trying to see what Devon saw.
Creamy skin, round and full, capped with the tight, sensitive knots of her nipples, uptilted and embarrassingly eager.
The heat in Devon’s gaze lit her up inside and consumed any possible embarrassment in a blaze of hunger. One look at Devon’s eyes had Lilah shamelessly arching her back, lifting her breasts up as if in offering.
Devon groaned and took her wordless invitation. He bent his head to her skin and licked, delicate, restrained laps of his agile tongue—a shocking, teasing sensation when what Lilah wanted was to be devoured.
She protested the only way she knew how, by clutching her arms around his neck and hauling him in closer. A soft laugh vibrated against her flesh, sending shivers all through her.
“Stop laughing,” she wanted to say, only she didn’t have the breath, and anyway it was beside the point because at that moment, Devon opened his mouth over her and drew her aching nipple inside, sucking strongly. At the same time, his deft fingers dropped to her waistband and started fiddling with her pants button.
In Lilah’s mind’s eye, a bright, golden cord traveled from the point of her breast straight down the center of her body to the wet, tingling core of her, and with every suck of Devon’s hot mouth, that cord plucked taut.
Vibrating with pleasure, Lilah speared her fingers into Devon’s hair and held on for dear life.
Wait, a voice whispered in her head. You’re not just a passenger on this ride. Take the wheel, girl!
Marshalling her scattered thoughts and intentions, Lilah committed a true act of will and tugged Devon’s wonderful, devilish mouth away from her body.
He looked up at her questioningly and Lilah didn’t even care that she was blushing like a virgin when she choked out, “Stand up. It’s my turn.”
Devon’s blue eyes flared bright with laughter and desire, and Lilah found she didn’t mind the former so long as she had the latter.
“Sweet Lilah Jane. As always, I’m yours to command. Where do you want me?”
“Bed,” she said. Short, decisive words were better, she decided. Less likely to show the quaver in her voice.
“Naked or clothed?” he asked. He might’ve been inquiring whether she preferred coffee or tea.
“Naked,” Lilah commanded, standing up straighter and narrowing her eyes. It was unacceptable that he could sound so calm and unconcerned.
Without taking her eyes off Devon as he backed toward the bed, Lilah let her hands drift to the front of her khakis. He’d managed to undo the top button, so she applied herself to the zipper. The sound it made as it pulled apart was loud in the silence of the apartment.
Devon was by the bed now, but he made no move to lie down. The laughter had faded from his face and now only the desire was left. Lilah watched in satisfaction as that desire turned darker, wilder, with every slow inch of skin revealed by the droop of her open pants. Hooking her thumbs in her white cotton panties, Lilah sucked in a deep breath and pushed them down along with the pants, kicking both to the side.
When she straightened up, fully naked, skin prickling in the chilled air of the bedroom, she saw that Devon was still frozen beside the bed, one hand fisted tightly in the coverlet.
There was nothing frozen about his eyes, though, and the air that had begun to feel too cool suddenly heated up under the warmth of his gaze.
“Now you,” Lilah said. Her voice was husky and languid, a stranger’s voice, as if a seductress spoke through Lilah’s mouth. Method acting, she thought a little hysterically. Feel sexy and you’ll be sexy.
And then all thoughts whirled away like dandelion fluff on the breeze, because Devon started pulling his clothes off.
His chest gleamed in the low light, the muscles clearly defined and sharp like something out of a magazine. He was golden tan all over, all over, and Lilah could just picture him on some exclusive private island, sunning himself in all his glory without a care in the world.
Her gaze fell to the thick, hard penis rearing straight up against his flat, ridged stomach, and Lilah had to swallow hard.
This was nothing like the shower, where by the time Lilah knew what was happening, Devon was there and bare and making her head spin.
This was so deliberate. They were facing each other, eyes open and clear, stripping down to nothing in preparation for coming together in the most intimate way possible.
A frisson of fear skated up Lilah’s spine. It was possible this was an even more dangerous decision than she’d first thought.
And then there was no time to worry about the consequences because she and Devon moved at the same time, arms out and reaching, and clashed together in the middle of the room with a desperate heat and speed.
His mouth was heavy over hers, teeth sharp and merciless, but Lilah was just as ravenous and out of control. For a wild moment, she wanted to bruise him, nip him hard enough to draw blood, to mark him as hers for the whole world to see in the light of day tomorrow.
Lord have mercy. Was she ever in trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nothing in the world tasted better than Lilah Jane Tunkle’s neck, Devon decided. He fastened his mouth there, on the left side of the slender column, and let the salty-sweet taste of her explode over his taste buds.
His hands mapped out her juiciest bits, the curves and hollows he remembered so well. She lifted into his arms, her spine bending and pushing her into him. Devon groaned as his cock slid against her belly. He rocked his hips indulgently, loving the silken glide of skin on skin.
Lilah wriggled, her thighs parting restlessly around one of Devon’s, and he reached down to palm her delectable ass and drag her bodily into closer contact. The open heart of her pulsed wet and scorching against his leg, and the sound Lilah made as he pressed her down on him made Devon want to throw her to the
ground and pump himself into her.
But she asked for the bed, so bed she would have. He picked her up and started to carry her over to it, but every step rubbed his thigh more firmly into the cradle of Lilah’s hips, producing more husky little cries, and Devon got distracted.
Kneading his fingers into the softness of her plump cheeks, he took her mouth in a starving kiss. Lilah opened to him, panting into his mouth, and Devon’s legs started shaking.
They weren’t going to make it to the bed.
He dragged her down to the floor with him before they fell over, blessing his decorator for finishing this room with a lush, thick-piled rug of dusky blue and chocolate brown.
Devon went down on his back and pulled Lilah on top of him, reveling in the sight of her undulating torso rising over him as she straddled his thighs and sat up.
Her amazing hair spiraled out from her head and down her shoulders in an untamable mass of dark ringlets and corkscrew curls. A deep red flush suffused her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were nearly black with passion, all wide-blown pupil with a thin ring of jade.
“Now,” she gasped. “Oh, please, now.”
Devon’s hips bucked involuntarily at that hoarse plea—and a sudden thought gripped his heart with terror.
“Oh, Christ,” he said. “I didn’t think … I don’t have anything to protect you … Do you?”
“You don’t keep condoms in the bedside table?” Lilah shrieked. “What kind of den of iniquity is this?”
“Sorry,” Devon said. He didn’t know it was possible to laugh when he was this hard. “If you give me a second, I can go get one.”
Lilah gripped his waist with her thighs, though, and growled—honest to fuck growled at him—and that was it. Devon was done.
“Come here,” he rasped, dragging her down to him. He pried open her jaw with one hand and sucked her tongue into his mouth. Their lower bodies writhed together, legs and hips working feverishly. Devon got a hand on the small of her back and pushed until he felt the tender head of his cock forge through the petal-soft folds of her sex.
On the Steamy Side Page 19
