His lips stopped her words. Devon opened her mouth on a gasp. Jordan took full advantage and swept his tongue inside. As his kisses threw her into a maelstrom of need, his hands slid down her body. One stopped at her breasts, the other went lower, stopping at the top of her sex.
Devon gasped under his mouth. Things were moving so fast! She pulled her mouth away and breathed, “Wait … I …”
“Shh. Open those beautiful legs and let me in. I'll make it good for you.”
She gasped as a finger slid between her folds, and without conscious thought, she opened her legs and allowed him entrance.
He licked at her lips as his finger moved inside her. “Damn, you taste good … like butterscotch.”
“My lip gloss.”
“What?”
“My … my lip gloss. It's caramel flavored.”
Muttering “delicious” and other words she couldn't make out, Jordan's mouth skimmed over her shoulders and neck. She heard a slight sound and knew he'd unzipped his pants. It was about to happen… A small, lucid part of her brain told her to stop him before it was too late. Need and desire had already won the battle… Devon shoved all rational thought aside.
When his body stiffened against her and he blew out a curse, she was sure her dream had ended.
Jordan pulled away and looked down at her. Devon had never imagined he could look at her with such need. “Condom.”
The growling tone of his voice caused a throb deep inside. What had he said? Pulling herself out of depths she'd never experienced before, she asked dazedly, “What?”
“Protection.” He grimaced as if in pain. “Need a—”
She closed her eyes on another throb and whispered, “I … that's … okay.”
He gave a deep, sexy chuckle. “I should have known you'd be prepared.” Holding on to her with one arm, he leaned over and slid open the drawer to his nightstand. “But I've got one right here.”
Something in his words bothered her, but she told herself to worry about them later. She had a vague, cloudy thought that he was sliding on a condom, then the long, rigid length of his penis pressed against her. She was wet … pulsing with need. Though he felt enormous, surely she could take him … they were made to fit together. This was meant to be.
He hooked a hand under her right thigh, wrapped her leg around his waist, and plunged.
Devon bit her lip to keep from screaming at the steel-hard intrusion. She hadn't expected the pain, as if she'd been split in two.
Jordan groaned against her shoulder. “Damn, you're tight. You all right?”
“Yes, I … I think so.” She hated how high and emotional her voice sounded. She wanted to be mature and sexy. Forcing herself to forget her pain, Devon moved against him and faked a pleasured moan. Even if she didn't enjoy it, this was still Jordan and that made it perfect.
Jordan evidently wasn't buying her feigned pleasure, and pulled out completely. Her world tilted as he picked her up. Laying her across the bed, he kneeled between her legs. Before she could fathom his intentions, his mouth was on her. This time Devon couldn't hold back a scream. But the scream was from pure pleasure. His tongue lapped at her, then thrust inside again and again. She hadn't expected this, didn't know how to deal with the acute ecstasy, the extreme buildup of something inside her, winding tighter and tighter. Panting, groaning, almost crying, Devon bucked up against his mouth. Jordan growled as he grabbed her hips to keep her still and continued his assault. With lightning speed, everything within her imploded, and Devon screamed his name.
Without giving her a chance to catch her breath or recover, Jordan slid inside. Within seconds he was pumping hard, pounding deep, and then with a low, raw growl, he stiffened and then collapsed on top of her. He lay over her for a few seconds, the harsh sounds of their heavy breathing the only noise in the too-quiet room. His silence and stillness scared her. What was he thinking?
Rolling away, he stared down at her, his eyes hard and searching.
Her body trembling with explosive emotions, she tried to curve her frozen mouth into a sexy, satisfied smile. Jordan's growl of “Stay there” stopped her. When he sprang from the bed, stalked to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut, alarm zoomed through her.
Sweet God in heaven, what had she done? Before she could give it any thought at all, she jumped from the bed, threw her dress over her head, and ran.
two
Worry and guilt weighing like a giant stone around her, Devon wearily pushed open the door to her house. Her mother stood beside it like a sentinel, her normally attractive face almost ugly with fury. “Where the hell have you been?”
Devon flinched but didn't back down. Tonight, with Jordan, she became something more than the obedient, helpless child her mother liked to think her. “Out,” she replied and marched up the stairs. She made it to the second step.
A sharp tug on the back of her gown had Devon scrambling for a hold, her arms swinging out for balance. She fell backward and crashed onto the cold marble foyer, landing on her right shoulder. Agony … intense … burning seared her. Biting her lip, she blinked back tears, struggling not to pass out.
The woman who had given birth to her but had hated her from the time she slipped from her womb glared down at her. “I said, where have you been?”
Devon bit back the pain, her jaw so tight she had to force the words out. “I don't have to tell you where I go and what I do.”
Glittering hazel eyes narrowed like an eagle. “You were at the ball.”
“No, I wasn't—”
“You're a liar. Three different people called to tell me they saw you there. Saw you dance with Jordan Montgomery.
Said you were all over each other, practically having sex on the dance floor. Then you left with him.”
Pain receded under a rush of fear. “No, I never—”
“Stop lying to me, dammit!” Her voice grew shriller with each accusation she hurled. “Were you with Jordan? Did you go with him? Did you screw him?”
Devon pulled herself to her knees, the pain in her shoulder agonizing, making her less clearheaded than normal. Why couldn't she laugh at Alise's accusation, tell her she was stupid to imply such a thing? Her mouth was dry, and her lips moved but she could form no words. Pushing to her feet, she swayed as the room swirled, nausea and dizziness hitting simultaneously.
Alise grabbed her injured shoulder, her hand biting into the damaged muscle. “Answer me. Did you?”
Devon held back a sob. “Stop. Please … my shoulder …”
“Look at your face. Lipstick smeared all over you, mascara smudged. You look like a whore.”
“What's going on down there?”
Both women looked up at the top of the stairs where Henry stood, his sparse head of hair standing on end, blinking owlishly down at them.
“Your little slut of a stepdaughter went and got herself laid.”
“What?!”
“You heard me.” She glared, fury and jealousy rivals in her gleaming eyes. “But it wasn't just any man, was it, Dev? It was Jordan Montgomery.”
Henry ambled down the stairs, his bones popping noisily as he approached them. “Jordan? No, he would never do anything—”
Alise's wild gaze never left Devon's face. “He didn't know who she was, you old fool. Did he, Devon? The way you've changed your looks, changed your hair. He hasn't seen you in years, and I'm sure you didn't tell him who you were. There's no way in hell he'd sleep with you if he knew it was you.”
Devon shook her head. “Stop it! Just stop it. It wasn't anything like—”
“Come on, Devon. You've had the hots for him since you were a kid. Don't you think I know? Don't you think he knows? Jordan and I used to laugh at your puppy-love expressions every time you looked at him. The only way he'd ever sleep with you or be attracted to you was if he thought you were someone else. Do you honestly think a child like yourself could attract such a man, much less hang on to him?” She shook her head with disgust. “You're even stupider than you
r father, and he was an idiot.”
Before Devon could digest this heart-wrenching statement, her stepfather snapped, “Shut up, Alise.”
Alise whirled her head around to her husband. “Oh dry up, Henry. You're just upset it wasn't you who got to her first.”
Devon's stomach heaved. Oh God, what kind of family said things like this to one another?
Henry drew himself up to his five-foot-six stature. “That's disgusting. I've never—”
Alise's shrill laughter blended with the horror of her words. “From the time Devon turned fifteen, you've sniffed at her like a stray dog after a bitch in heat.”
Devon's head shook in denial. Unable to listen anymore, she took a running step to the half bath in the hallway.
Alise grabbed the strap of her gown, ripping it from the seam. “Come back here, you little tramp. You haven't answered my questions.”
“Leave me alone.”
Alise grabbed at her again, but Devon jerked away and rushed to the bathroom. She slammed the door and locked it. Their arguing continued, Alise spurting her venom, Henry making angry denials.
Devon closed the lid on the toilet and sat down. Bending her head, she took deep, controlled breaths to hold back the panic and the pain. She had no choice but to leave. She had a little money … not a lot, but it would get her back to school. She would never come home again.
Taking one last bracing breath, Devon opened the door. Alise was gone, but Henry sat on the bottom step of the stairway. Her chest tightened as she took in the slumped posture of a defeated man. Henry had never done or said anything inappropriate and she loved him like a father. How could Alise treat him so cruelly?
Henry raised his head as he heard her approach. “I'm sorry, Devon.”
“Why do you stay with her?”
A sad smile pulled at his mouth, making him look like a basset hound. “For a lot of reasons you'd never understand.”
Devon shook her head, unable to understand any reason valid enough to stay with a woman like her mother. “I think it's best I leave.”
“Devon, what Alise said … it's not true. I hope you know that.”
Devon bent down and kissed his cheek, never doubting him. “I know, Henry. You've been a wonderful father. I love you and thank you for that.”
“About you and Jordan …” The furrows in his forehead grew deeper with worry. “He's too old for you, sweetheart. Not only in age, but in experience. He's seen things … done things you'd never understand.”
Devon drew a shaky breath. Talking with Henry about Jordan wasn't something she was prepared to do. Explaining how she'd deceived him would only get her a lecture. Knowing she deserved one didn't help.
Besides, Jordan was the one who deserved an explanation.
Devon swallowed hard to clear her throat of the giant lump of emotion. “I can't really talk about it right now.”
The understanding look in his eyes was almost her undoing. When she was a split second away from sitting down with him and spilling her guts, he said, “I'm here when you're ready.”
Planting one last kiss of appreciation and affection on his cheek, Devon took a deep breath and stepped around him. Feet almost dragging from weariness and pain, she made her way up the stairway to her bedroom. Her shoulder throbbed, her stomach felt like a giant twisted knot, and her heart thudded against her chest with a slow pound of impending doom.
She took her duffel bag from the closet and gazed around. This room had ceased to be hers once she went away to boarding school. It had become a place she slept on her infrequent visits home. Since she never intended returning, her eyes searched for mementos she wanted to keep. There was nothing. Her mother had redecorated years ago, turning her pretty, feminine bedroom into a cold, elegant guest room. There was nothing left of Devon in it. She grabbed the few items of clothing she'd brought with her from school and stuffed them in the bag.
The beautiful white gown she'd selected with such care and anticipation pooled on the floor as she stepped out of it. A mocking reminder of the excitement and hope she'd felt earlier. Turning her back to it, Devon slid into a pair of jeans. Her arms lifted to pull a sweater over her head but stopped at the wrenching pain in her shoulder. Fighting tears, she settled for a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt. Her fingers trembled as she struggled to button it.
Looking neither left nor right, she marched down the stairway, through the door, and into the night. At some point she would see Henry again, but never her mother. What little affection she'd had for the woman was completely destroyed.
The temperature was freezing and a light mist shrouded the darkness with a haunting, eerie quality. At the corner, relief made her stumble when she saw a taxi heading toward her. Since it was just a little before dawn and taxis were scarce this time of night, her spirits lifted slightly. Maybe her luck was changing.
Though sick dread filled her at the thought, she had to see Jordan. Alise would call him … turn into something dirty what had been the most wonderful experience of her life. She prayed that at least a couple of hours would go by before her mother went on the attack again.
He had to know what happened hadn't been planned. The deception, yes, but not the other. The experience had been special, too wonderful to be premeditated.
Huddled in the backseat of the cab, she shivered under the thin, wet shirt. Why hadn't she remembered to get her coat from the hall closet? There were sweaters in her duffel, but her shoulder hurt too much for her to make the effort to try to find them.
Traffic was light, so the taxi flew down Grayson Street, and all the while, panic built. The closer she came to Jordan's house, the harder it was to control the dread. She fought it back, but didn't try to lie to herself. He would be angry—that was a given. A man as proud and honorable as Jordan would feel duped and betrayed. She had to make him realize not only that had she loved him for years, but that this had been the only way she could think to make him see her as a woman. The reckless plan hadn't included making love to him, but she couldn't regret it.
His anger didn't worry her. Hadn't she heard Henry say on more than one occasion that Jordan Montgomery never lost his cool? That he was the most calm, controlled man he'd ever seen? No, it was the hurt and betrayal Jordan would feel that tore her insides to pieces. She had to make him understand she never meant to hurt him.
Jordan had always been so kind to her. Made her feel important … special. She knew he hadn't seen her as anything but a child. But even then she'd known for years he was the love of her life. That was why she had to deceive him, to show him she was an adult now. He had to understand.
The cab pulled up to the elegant brownstone she'd left only a little while before. Devon paid the driver, wincing as she realized her funds were going to go faster than anticipated if she had to take a taxi everywhere. Good thing her plane ticket back to school was already purchased.
A fresh wave of pain washed over her as she stood in front of his door. After she and Jordan settled their differences, she would probably need to go to the doctor. Her shoulder was either dislocated or badly bruised. Either way, she needed X-rays and at least a sling.
Devon closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. Trying not to panic, trying not to cry, she pressed the doorbell.
The door jerked open and Jordan stood before her. The dark, beautiful eyes that had looked at her with such heat and desire glared at her with contempt.
He knew.
Jordan stared at the woman who only hours ago had been in his bed. Little Devon … all grown up. A little more grown-up today than she'd been this time yesterday. But wasn't that what she had planned?
Disgusting pieces of Alise Stevens's phone call only minutes before resounded in his head. “She thinks she's in love with you. Devon tried to seduce two other of our friends last year. She's been seeing a psychiatrist. She's sick … delusional. Convinces herself she's in love and then tries to seduce men into bed. I just can't believe you, of all people, fell for her act. My God, Jordan, she's
just a child.”
“Hello, Jordan. May I come in?”
Rage, disappointment, embarrassment, and betrayal barreled through him. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into the house, ignoring her hiss of pretended pain. He hadn't hurt her and he knew the bitch was a liar.
Eyes narrowed, he inspected her, trying to see what he had missed before. No. Even without the contact lenses, he wouldn't have recognized her. A person could change a hell of a lot in eight years. Devon had changed more than most.
Adolescent plumpness had given way to sleek curves. Elegant, high cheekbones had replaced a round, cherubic face. Once-blond curls had been colored to a dark, gleaming mahogany. She was at least five inches taller.
Last time he'd talked to Henry, he'd mentioned that Devon was growing into a lovely young woman. Unfortunately, Henry had failed to mention she was also a little liar.
“Are you … can I …” She blew out a ragged sigh. “May I sit down? I'm a little tired.”
Jordan jerked his head toward the sitting room. He watched as she dropped her duffel bag on the floor and made slow, careful steps across the foyer into the room, holding her right arm carefully to her side.
What was she faking now? Her lips were blue and she was shivering, so he at least believed she was cold. Before she left his house, he'd give her something to be cold about.
Fists clenched, jaw tight, Jordan worked to contain his anger—much of which was self-directed. Hell, he'd seen signs of innocence and inexperience. Instead of questioning them, he'd ignored them. For the first time in his life, he'd allowed lust to override his instincts. Disgust with himself and fury at her mingled with an astonishing disappointment he refused to even contemplate. Dammit, this was Devon. A girl he'd known forever.
Devon fought against tears as she stood in front of the cheerfully roaring fire. Ice-cold despair washed over her, followed by an all-consuming weariness. The ache in her shoulder, blended with the excruciating pain in her heart, made coherent thought almost impossible. What could she say that would make what she'd done right? Nothing.
Rescue Me: A Novel Page 3
