All the while he murmured against her ear, “Sorry, baby . . . Damn, you’re sweet—you feel it, too, don’t you, Devon? Shit, you do—fuck, you’re coming for me, aren’t you, baby? I feel it . . .”
He worked a hand between them, finding that small, sensitive bud of flesh, and touched her, fast, rough strokes that ricocheted through her lower body, centering in her womb, until she thought she’d explode. Arching into him, she screamed out his name.
She went flying. There were no other words to describe it as she seemed to explode out of her body, even as the pleasure washed over her, anchoring her.
Hard, fast, and breath-stealing, and when it was over, he was still moving on top of her, still hard, still muttering to her and praising her. Dazed, too weak and sated, her hands slid off his damp shoulders and smacked on the table. His spine bowed and he drove into her one final time, coming with a hoarse shout that bounced off the walls.
Her name, Devon thought. When he came, he shouted her name.
That was her last conscious thought before she drifted into a sweet, dark slumber.
LYING against his side, Devon circled Luke’s flat, coppery nipple with her forefinger and watched as it drew tight under her touch. “How long have you known?”
One thing she loved about the guy, he didn’t pretend not to understand a difficult question. Instead, he turned his head and kissed her crown. The arm around her back tightened. “Since our first date, the for real one, not when we ran into each other that night. But I suspected it then.”
Lifting her head, she stared at him curiously. “How?”
He shrugged. Restless. For a minute he was quiet, and she let him be, figuring he was doing the same thing other people did when they learned she’d been raped as a child. Not too many people knew: Eden, her adopted parents, her boss, and a few close friends. Finding the words for something like that was way outside most people’s comfort zone. “I’ve seen too many women who’ve been hurt like that not to recognize it.”
She nodded. “Working the ER, I guess you do.”
But Luke shook his head. “Not that. It’s what I did before.” Gently, he eased her away, and she watched as he sat up and pushed the sheet off his legs. His left leg was a mess from about midthigh down. There was a patchwork of old, healed scars, and she winced in sympathy as she touched the longest one. It was on the outside, starting about four inches above his knee and running halfway down his calf. It had a surgical neatness to it most of the other scars lacked.
“I was in the Rangers,” he said softly. “Six years ago, I was injured while in South America.” His eyes took on a far-off look, and he rubbed his hand against the scarred leg almost absently. “People will do really shitty things to one another, Devon. I saw some of the worst, or so I thought. But every year, it got a little worse, and it was getting to me. When I got injured, it was severe enough they would have put me at a desk or had me teach.”
He glanced at her, shrugged. “I’m not a teacher, and if I’d wanted to ride a desk, I wouldn’t have joined the army. So I took a medical discharge, went to medical school.”
Shoving up onto her knees, she studied the scars. “I don’t have a medical degree or anything, but this looks pretty bad.”
Luke nodded and traced a finger down the longest scar. “They had to reconstruct my knee. I’ve got some steel pins in there that I’ll have until I die. But hey, I can walk. I can run. I can work out, and it only hurts when I’m really exhausted or if it gets too cold.”
Unable to resist, she bent down and pressed her lips to the scar.
Luke sighed raggedly, and then he slid a hand down her back, curving it over her ass. “Of course, all I’d have to do now is think of you, and I’d warm right up.”
Grinning at him, she straightened and threw a leg over his hips. “I don’t mind keeping you warm.”
“Not warm,” he grunted as he cupped her in his hand. “I’m hot—damn hot.” Then his mouth twisted. “But I’m also out of rubbers. I only had the one on me. Rest are in the car.”
Leaning, she kissed his chest. She hoped she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. Under her lashes, she stared at him. “I haven’t ever done this with a guy. What happened . . .” Her voice trailed off, and then she swallowed, cleared her throat, before she tried again. “It happened when I was a kid and after, I had all the tests run. I’m about as clean as a baby.”
One free hand came up to her hip, his fingers digging into her hip, and his lashes drooped low over his eyes. “I had to have them yearly in the army. Since then, I haven’t been with too many women, and I had a life insurance physical done six months ago. I’m clean—and I haven’t been with a woman since that blood test was drawn.” He held her gaze as he slipped a hand between their bodies, sought out the hard, sensitive nub of flesh, watching as she shuddered and arched back. “But that’s not really the only concern. Fuck knows, I’m crazy about you, but there are other considerations.”
He started to pull back, but she reached down, wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and rocked against his hand. “I’m on the pill. Had to—female-type issues. So if it’s pregnancy you’re worried about, then I’m safe on that front, too.”
“Fuck—” He plunged two fingers inside her and then pulled away so he could cup her hips and hold her steady as he rocked upward, grinding his aching length against her. “I’m a doctor, Devon. I really should know better than this.”
She quirked a brow at him. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
He swatted her rump and then stroked a hand down the soft curve. “I want you—completely. All the way. I want you with no barriers, with nothing between us,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the hollow of her throat. “But if I go skin to skin with you, Devon, it’s going to be because we’ve got something serious here. No backing away. You ready for that?”
She wiggled against his hips. “If I wasn’t serious, you wouldn’t be in my bed doing what you’re doing.” Then she eased back. “But if you want—”
Devon didn’t get another word out before he flipped her onto her back, split her thighs, and pushed inside, his entry unrelenting, his hard shaft forcing soft, swollen tissues to yield to him. His eyes bored into hers, his hands fisted in her hair, and he watched her face as he stroked deep. “I want just this,” he rasped, staring at her from heavy-lidded eyes. “I want you. I want you all the time, and I want you in a thousand different ways, ways that would probably terrify you if I tried to explain.”
A smile curved her lips and then it faded as a groan shimmered out of her when he circled his hips against hers. He felt huge, hard as iron and smooth as silk, as he pumped in and out. “I really don’t scare all that easily, Luke.”
Dipping his head, he kissed her roughly. “Don’t tempt me, Devon. Shit—” His voice broke off, and he rotated his hips against her, laying a hand on her knee and sliding it upward until he could palm her ass. “You can’t back out now, darlin’. You’re mine now.” He reiterated his words with a series of deep, hard thrusts. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the labored rhythm of their breathing filled the air. His fingers tightened on her bottom, and he muttered once more against her mouth, “You’re mine.”
Then the time for talking passed, and they stared into each other’s eyes as he rode her hard, pushing her to the edge and then backing off, slowing his pace. His fingers dug into the soft, supple flesh of her hips, and he took her with a decided lack of gentleness, careful not to hurt her, but not easing up on his passion.
Devon loved it. Hoarse from screaming, she fisted her hands in his short hair and begged, pleaded—pleaded. She’d gone her entire adult life without really needing intimate contact—she might have wanted it, but she hadn’t ever needed it with an intensity that overrode all thought and all desire. Not like this.
“Scream for me,” he ordered gruffly, dipping his head and sinking his teeth into her lower lip. “Scream my name.”
But she didn’t have the breath to s
cream; she barely even had enough breath to remain conscious, it seemed, and when he slowed his thrusts and worked his hand between their bodies, what little breath she did have exploded out of her in a harsh moan. Climax hovered just in front of her, every bit as powerful, every bit as consuming as the first one. But he wouldn’t let her reach it. Pushing her so close, and then backing off.
His voice, harsh and guttural, growled in her ear. “Scream, Devon. Scream my name.”
A soft, strangled, “Luke,” was all she could manage, but she raked her nails down his back and tried to pull him even closer. A slow, sensual smile curved his lips as he eased his weight off her body, settled on his knees between her splayed thighs. He slid his hands down her torso, cupping her breasts and plumping them together, pinching her nipples a little too tightly, pushing her a little too close to pain, yet it did have her arching against him as the fire inside her flared hotter.
Then he continued to stroke his hand down . . . down . . . down until he was stroking . . . oh, hell, right . . . there. A heated blush spread across her upper chest, up her neck, her face, and she squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’ve thought about taking you like this,” he said, his voice a low, sexy growl. “So often. Wondered how you’d taste, how you’d moan when I made you come.”
She shuddered, caught between the seductive rumble of his voice and the teasing touch of his fingers between her thighs. With light, teasing strokes, he caressed her and all the while, he rocked his hips back and forth, the hot, hard flesh of his shaft stroking back and forth inside her sex, the thick head rubbing against one sensitized spot, pushing her farther, making her flesh draw tighter, until her entire existence narrowed down to him—just him. His fingers stroked and teased, his sex throbbed inside her, his eyes rapt on her face as he watched her.
Slowly, still watching her, he trailed his fingers up her body, leaving a damp trail up her torso, along her neck, until he could rub the lingering moisture onto her lips. Bending low over her, he muttered, “You’re sweet.” He licked her mouth and made an appreciative little growl that rumbled and vibrated through him.
Sweet—hell, that didn’t even begin to describe her, Luke thought, sucking her lip into his mouth. The tight, silken clasp of her sex around him, the honeyed taste of her lips, it was mind-blowing. Breath-stealing. Hot-cold chills raced down his spine, and he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. Hooking his arms under her knees, he held her open, exposed. She was so tight, already so close to coming, he could feel in the minute, convulsive caresses of her sex, and then this time when he felt it coming on her, he let it come, let the explosion take her, and as it broke over her, the rhythmic milking sensations pulled him along with her, and he came, hard and powerful. She squeezed down around him, drawing it out, emptying him until he collapsed against her body with a groan.
Letting go of her legs, he slid his arms around her waist and remained there, enjoying the faint tremors still racking her body.
He cupped a hand around her breast and muttered, “Mine, Devon.” The soft brush of his breath had her nipple puckering up tight, but he was too dazed to do anything but admire the pretty pink tip. Luke didn’t even have the strength to shift over enough to kiss it. Exhausted, he felt himself slipping off. Gathering his strength, he lifted his head. “Crushing you. Need to move.”
Her arms tightened around his shoulders. “Don’t you dare.”
So like that, their arms and legs tangled, his softening cock still sheathed in her sex, they fell asleep.
IT was late when he finally woke, late enough that the only light in the room was the silvered moonlight filtering through the curtains, but it was enough for Luke to see by as he pushed up on his elbow and studied Devon’s face. She looked incredibly young when she slept, he decided, when the thin shield of eyelids hid those unsettling, insightful eyes away from the world.
World-weary eyes. Luke had a burning need to know exactly what had transpired to put that sad knowledge in her eyes. All of it, not just the bits he’d managed to piece together.
She’d tell him. Luke wouldn’t let her not tell him. But not yet.
This was too new. As satisfied as he was, as complete as he felt lying there with her, Luke was under no illusions about their relationship. They were both guarded, private people who had fallen hard for the other. They had their secrets, their shadows, and some of those shadows could make things rocky.
So they could wait.
One thing that couldn’t wait, though, was his stomach. They’d forgotten about dinner, and Luke could only be relieved Devon hadn’t actually started cooking earlier. Unless the house had burned down around them, he doubted either of them would have noticed much.
Gently easing away from her body, he padded naked out of her room, heading downstairs. He paused by the washing machine and lifted the lid a scant inch before lowering it again. Those clothes might pretty much be trashed. The faint, cloying scent of skunk still lingered. Starting another wash cycle, he added more detergent and then left to find the towel he’d used earlier.
Hooking that around his hips, he headed outside for his gym bag, which was tucked in the trunk. Getting to it required a little more movement than he liked wearing nothing but a towel, but the thing stayed in place. Snagging the bag and pulling it closer, he unzipped it to check inside, then grinned. Damn, he’d even remembered to pack clean clothes, thank God. The bricks of the sidewalk and driveway felt chilly under his feet, and the night air wrapped around him in a cool embrace. He moved a little quicker, slinging the bag over his shoulder and locking the car before heading back up to the house.
On the porch, though, he paused. The skin on the back of his neck stood up and he felt . . . something.
Eyes. Watching him.
Slipping inside the house, he locked the door and did a quick walk-through, checking the other doors and windows before heading into the living room. The itchy, crawling sensation along his spine faded as he stood at the window, keeping to the shadows as he watched the street.
Nobody’s watching you, man. Nobody around here gives a damn. Pushing a hand through his hair, he muttered, “You’re getting paranoid.”
Still, he remained there for a while, hidden in the shadows and watching the street. He stood there for nearly an hour, watching and waiting, but he never saw anybody move.
SEVEN
AS much as he’d like to think otherwise, Luke wasn’t the type to have issues with an overactive imagination. He didn’t see monsters when they weren’t there, or at least he never had before. It bothered him enough that he slept restlessly the rest of the night. Used to getting by on little amounts of sleep, when the alarm clock went off, he came awake easily. Devon, though, lifted a hand and batted at the clock and then burrowed in closer to Luke.
She lay on her side, and Luke lay behind her, his arm hooked around her narrow waist, her head tucked under his chin. “You need to wake up, sleepyhead,” he murmured, stroking his hand up her side.
“Don’t wanna.” Her voice was hoarse and drowsy, a sexy little purr.
“Hmmm. I don’t much like the idea of you getting up, either,” he whispered, pushing up onto his elbow and dipping his head to kiss her shoulder.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at him, her eyes still half-closed and bleary with sleep. “You’re really here.”
Crooking a grin at her, Luke asked, “Did you expect me to disappear?”
Moving her shoulders in a shrug, Devon answered, “I dunno. Thought maybe I dreamed it.” She pushed up onto her elbows, snagging the sheet and tucking it under her armpits. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at him, and he watched as a soft blush stained her cheeks pink. “Wouldn’t be the first time I dreamed about you.”
Hooking a finger in the sheet, he tugged it down, baring the delicate curves of her breasts. “You must really not want to get out of this bed,” he teased, dipping his head and biting her lower lip gently. Then he shifted downward, closing his lips around one pink, pouting nipp
le.
“No . . . I really don’t.” Her words were a ragged little gasp. Her hands skimmed up over his shoulders and then fisted in his hair, urging him closer.
Closer sounded damn good to him. Working a hand between them, he grabbed the sheet and pulled it free so Devon’s slight, nude body was pressed against his own. “I could get used to waking up next to you,” he muttered. “Damn quick.” Wedging a knee between her thighs, he settled his hips against hers. She was warm, soft, and wet as he pushed inside. And swollen—tighter than she’d been the night before. “Are you sore?” he asked gently.
Instead of answering, Devon slid her hands down his sides and closed her hands over his hips, pulling him tighter, closer. Lifting her face to his, she brushed her lips against his.
As the morning sun streamed in through gauzy white curtains, they lost themselves. The quiet of the room was broken by wordless moans and soft sighs. The slow, lazy beauty of the moment didn’t last, though. Hunger rarely waited patiently, and this was no different. Slow and easy turned to hot, fast, and demanding. If he had been able to think, Luke would have worried he was pushing Devon too hard, too fast, but he couldn’t think, and she was every bit as hungry as he was.
He could feel it as her nails raked across his shoulders, as she sank her teeth into his lip and bit him as she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched to meet every deep thrust. They came together, Devon screaming out his name while Luke buried his face in her hair.
THE soft, low sound of Luke’s voice over the phone was a distraction Devon couldn’t afford at the moment. Her desk was so overloaded, she couldn’t even see the surface. She had three different court appearances scheduled for the afternoon, a couple of follow-ups to do, and, assuming she didn’t get anything else dumped on her, she just might get home before dark.
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