Daring Devlin (Lost Boys Book 1)

by Jessica Lemmon

  “You coming or what?” he called over his shoulder right before he rounded the SUV and climbed inside.

  I gritted my teeth and stared at the idling vehicle with the dark windows. I couldn’t get in the car with him after I’d caught him seducing Melinda. The rattling thump of bass came from the SUV as wind blew snow off Oak & Sage’s roof and into my hair. I shivered. The SUV’s interior light flicked on, then off.

  Crap. I wasn’t actually going to go to him, was I?

  Then again, why waste the fury broiling my hairline on a trek through the parking lot? I’m sure Devlin would love to hear about my date with Baron. A little smile curved my cold lips.

  With a skip in my step, I tugged open the passenger door of the SUV, climbed inside, and arranged myself in the seat. Involuntarily, I shuddered. I told myself it was because the cold outside had chased me in. I refused to accept any other reason.

  He adjusted the vent to blow warm air on my lap. That was considerate.

  No, not considerate. Decent, maybe. Something any human would do for another. He didn’t deserve to be knighted, for Pete’s sake.

  He let out a heavy sigh and sagged against his seat. I stared out the windshield. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. I wondered how long we’d sit here before one of us said something. I watched the green digital numbers change on the dashboard’s clock.

  Six minutes passed.

  “Really?” I finally shouted.

  Elbow leaning on the window frame, head propped on his hand, he slid his eyes to mine. “She speaks.”

  “You’re the one who needs to explain.” Not that I was going to wait one more second. “Do you do this with every girl at work?”

  Not a single muscle on his face twitched.

  “Did you help Melinda with her apron? Did you kiss her in the freezer? Did you take her in the office and…” I trailed off, my throat tightening with emotion. No matter how tough I pretended to be, I couldn’t hide the hurt. He’d hurt me. And I had allowed myself to be hurt, which was worse.

  “I went on a date tonight,” I blurted.

  One of his eyelids narrowed.

  “The nephew I told you about. He’s twenty-six and a police officer.” Devlin’s other eye narrowed and I felt inordinately pleased. “He’s responsible. And nice. He ate my mom’s terrible pie and she loved him.”

  “Responsible.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. Finally. I’d affected him.

  “Yes,” I continued, happy to push my luck. “I bet he pays his taxes. All of his taxes. And probably rarely, if ever, does anything illegal.”

  “Clearly you don’t know the cops in this town,” he mumbled.

  “He flirted with me. He treated me well. He was polite. He listened when I talked without any agenda of his own.”

  “Everyone has an agenda.” Devlin sneered. “If he’s so great, what are you doing here?”

  “Some dumbass seduced me into being his mule again. I showed up, making me the bigger dumbass, because I found him hypnotizing another girl with his big, beautiful blue eyes.” I batted my eyelashes at him, laying it on thick.

  He ignored the insult and compliment and extended his arm so that his hand was on my headrest. “What’s your cop’s name?”

  “Why? Are you going to have him whacked?”

  Devlin kept his intense gaze trained on me, silence his best friend.

  “Baron,” I answered.

  “Does Baron make you feel the way I’m making you feel right now?”

  “Filled with rage? No, actually.”

  “What’s under the rage?” Gently, he slid his fingers into my hair. I’d worn it down tonight. His fingertips massaged my scalp, his blue, blue eyes locked on mine.

  Want. Want was under the rage.

  He cupped the back of my head in his palm and leaned over the console. “Tell me how you feel.”

  I forced my thoughts on the memory of him with Melinda. If I blurted out the truth, I’d have to say “stupid,” because I felt like a grade-A jackass believing someone like him could ever be mine. Holding onto him would be as futile as trying to bottle lightning. I could see him, admire him, but never catch him.

  “You took advantage of me.”

  He flinched—barely—just a slight lift of his cheeks that crinkled the skin around his eyes, but I saw it. He was too close to hide from me now.

  “Melinda picked up the envelope,” he said.

  That seemed to prove how replaceable I was so I squeaked out the word, “Why?” Followed by, “Because I was five whole minutes late?”

  “Now you’re mad because you didn’t pick up the envelope? I thought you didn’t want to be my ‘mule.’”

  I set my jaw and stayed quiet. His calmness was only stoking the fire of my rage.

  He moved his hand along my jaw and touched my bottom lip with his thumb. “Were you five minutes late because of Baron?”

  A muscle in his cheek jumped. He was jealous. Which I freaking loved.

  He sucked in a breath and blew it out of his nose, fanning the hair at my temple. “The guy dropping off the money thought Melinda was you. He handed her an envelope and told her to give it to me.”

  I frowned.

  “By the time Melinda tracked me down asking why some guy just handed her seven thousand dollars—”

  “Seven thousand dollars?” I nearly choked.

  “You see my concern.”

  Not so fast. “So, you… what? Seduced Melinda into being quiet?”

  “Convinced. Not seduced.”

  I hummed, not convinced myself.

  His hands slipped to my arms and he tugged me toward him. My upper body went, but my butt stayed planted in the seat. “Please?”

  I blew out a breath, then gave up and did what he wanted. I crawled over the console and arranged myself until I was settled over his lap—one leg on each side of his thighs. I had to hunch to keep my head from hitting the roof.

  “You smell like salad,” I told him, my hands resting on his shoulders.

  “You smell like Baron.” He pushed my hair away from my face.

  Impossible. I hadn’t touched Baron. Well, maybe it was possible. Baron had worn cologne, and he’d been drying my tears and patting my back while I choked on my mom’s potato-cheese hash. I refrained from bending my head to sniff my shirt.

  “Well,” I said, “you smell like desperate blonde.”

  His firm mouth flinching into a barely-there smile, he reached for a lever on the side of the seat and leaned us back several inches. He was underneath me, his head on the headrest, and holding my face in his palms.

  “Feel more in control now?” he asked.

  I did. But I didn’t want to admit it. “Is that what this is about?”

  “That’s always what it’s about. Kiss me.”

  I pressed my lips together.

  “Rena.”

  I resisted. In my brain. But when his lips formed my name, I leaned over and touched his mouth with mine. Just the softest brush. I let my eyes close, and he pulled away. Which made me angry.

  I fisted his T-shirt and gave him a punishing kiss. Darting my tongue into his mouth, smashing his nose with mine, grinding my pelvis against his. Surprised by the assault, he grunted before his hand tangled in my hair and the other wrapped around my hip. His rough, unshaven face chafed my skin, but even then I didn’t let him back off.

  I could have had safe. I could’ve had nice. I could’ve had a guy on the right side of the law. But, no. I’d chosen my devastating and dangerous Devlin over Roy’s safe-and-sound nephew. I’d chosen to be with a man who thought it was okay to have sex with me one night and flirt with a different girl the next.

  Thinking of him with Melinda was a bucket of ice water over my head. I pulled away, admiring how he looked under me. T-shirt disheveled, hair a disaster, eyes dark, and mouth open. I was the one who put that heat in his eyes. Not Melinda. I gripped his hair and yanked his skull against the headrest. He winced, barely. He also looked pleased.

  “S
he touched you,” I said, my voice a low warning.

  His eyebrows pinched. “Who?”

  “Melinda.” I tagged him in the chest with two fingers. “Right here.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t notice.”

  “I noticed.”

  I dragged his shirt up and bared his chest, then put my open mouth on the spot over his left pectoral. It was a gentle, wet kiss that only made me want to taste more of him. He, apparently, felt the same way.

  His hand cupped the back of my head and he groaned, a low sound that reverberated through my body. I sat up, putting distance between myself and his beautiful body. All that defined muscle was hard to resist.

  Desire flooded his eyes, making the blue darker. His eyelids were hooded, the lashes drawn low and shadowing his cheeks. Both hands gripped my hips.

  “That my punishment?” he asked.

  “No. That’s all I’m going to do to you. That’s your punishment.” I crawled off his lap—he cupped his balls to protect himself from my knees—and settled into the passenger seat. Then I regarded him with a bored expression and hoped he didn’t notice that my heart pounded like a kettledrum.

  With his shirt rucked up, and slumped in the reclined driver’s seat, Devlin looked a little unhappy and a whole lot dangerous. Had I pushed him too far? Did I care?

  He dragged his shirt down over his chest, pulled his seat upright, and turned off the ignition. I blinked and he was out of his SUV, slamming the door shut behind him. The cab of the car wobbled and I sat there for the length of one long cleansing breath before I climbed out, too.

  I planned on walking to my car after all. I didn’t care if he was sulking. Let him sulk. The moment my feet hit the snow-covered pavement, though, Melinda’s voice shattered the still night air.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  I stayed out of sight. Devlin stood at the rear of his car and Melinda by the garbage bin, lit cigarette in hand, her coat open.

  “You look cold. Can I warm you up?” She obviously was unaware of my presence behind his SUV.

  “Pass,” Devlin called to her. He leaned around the SUV and tipped his head. I appeared, and loved watching Melinda’s face fall. He grabbed my hand and pressed my back against the SUV. Hands on either side of my face, he whispered, “Grab my ass.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Grab. My. Ass,” he whispered even closer to my ear. Then he grinned down at me.

  I palmed his firm ass, seeing us from Melinda’s vantage point. Devlin’s hands in my hair, his body pressed against mine. My hands claiming him.

  Mine.

  He closed his lips over mine and hauled one of my legs up and over his hip. He sucked in a breath and the cold air between our warm lips sent shivers down my spine. Every part of my body vibrated in response to his touch. When his hand slid past my thigh and he ran his fingers along the inseam of my pants, I nearly forgot we had an audience.

  He ended our lip lock. His mouth was open in a devious smile as steam from his breath billowed between us. His nose and cheeks were red, and when I rubbed my hands over his biceps I realized he was freezing.

  “You look like you did the night you showed up on my doorstep.” I stroked his eyebrow with the tip of one finger. It had mostly healed, but he’d have a scar. I doubted the hair would ever grow back completely. “Only more in control.”

  He kissed me, leaving his lips touching mine when he said, “Trust me, baby. I’m less in control now.” His entire body shook. From the cold? Or because I’d made him lose control?

  I chose to believe the latter.

  Chapter Twelve

  Devlin

  Rena insisted on walking around the building to her car, and I figured it’d be a good idea to let her do it rather than deal with Melinda. I also felt like Rena maybe, sort of believed that I hadn’t been seducing Melinda, which made me feel a modicum of pride.

  I wiped the sideways smile off my face. I had no right to feel proud. I’d been impulsive out there. I’d listened to my gut, which I wasn’t sure I could trust. I wasn’t the type of guy to protect anyone, but Rena awakened something in me. The way I’d pulled her onto my lap in my SUV. The way I’d let her dominate me. She’d kissed my chest and left me wanting more. I never want more.

  I prided myself on being able to walk away from women. Melinda, I could tell by the angry slant of her eyebrows, did not appreciate my making out with Rena. I’d struck a careful balance with Melinda in the storeroom twenty minutes ago. Letting Rena claim me in front of her might have blown it. Why did I do that?

  Because I fucked up, came the automatic answer.

  Great. I’d sprouted a fucking conscience. Normally, my only concerns revolved around whether or not she’d rat me out and cause trouble for Sonny and me. I’d dragged her into this mess, and her claiming to be my “mule” wasn’t as far off the mark as I would have liked.

  I blew by Melinda, who gave me the evil eye from across the kitchen. Let her be pissed. I didn’t give a shit. What I cared about, I realized as an uncomfortable chill skated down my spine, was Rena.

  “Remember when you used to be smart?” I muttered to myself as I unlocked the office. What good came from attachment? Save for Sonny who, let’s be honest, could turn on a dime at any moment.

  I opened the safe, retrieved my wallet, and stuffed it into my pocket. There was a condom tucked into the inside flap. If I’d had it with me, could I have convinced Rena to ride me home right there on the seat? Despite her promise to “punish me” by stopping, I bet I could have made a damn good plea. I could see it in her eyes. She still wanted me.

  You want her, too.

  I did. When I saw how hurt she was over finding me with Melinda, I raced after her and chased her outside. Melinda could easily turn me in. And now that she’d seen that display against the SUV, she might. Christ. That was stupid.

  I told myself I was the one with the control, but whenever Rena was around—whether her soft tits were pressed against my chest or not—control went right out the window.

  I forgot about control. Forgot about the rules. Forgot about my vow not to become an epic screwup like dear ole dad. The only thing that mattered was the honey-sweet tickle of her breath in my ear as she said my name.

  I’d wanted her to claim me.

  I shut the office door. Melinda sent me a sharp look before disappearing into the walk-in. I should go to her, wedge myself back into her good graces. It wouldn’t be hard. She’d been coming on to me for months. I’d resisted her because I had a rule about not bedding the staff, but also because she rubbed me the wrong way.

  Now I resisted for a different reason.

  Before I’d met Rena, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go to Melinda, insert her firmly into the “circle of trust” again. Muddy her mind with a few kisses and promise more like them later.

  I stuffed my arms into my coat and shoved open the back door, my movements jerky. I didn’t want Melinda. I never had. I wanted Rena. Only Rena. Which made my skin itch. I refused to get attached, though. I doubted much good would come of it for me, and I knew zero good would come of it for her.

  My newly formed conscience shook its head and issued a warning. Stay away from her. She’s too good for you. So, I gagged and hog-tied it.

  I could stay away from her if I wanted to. I didn’t want to.

  Paul wouldn’t have let me in if I hadn’t surprised him, which was why I hadn’t called. I waited until Tuesday to see him, when the three games I’d helped him bet on—the “last” ones, he’d assured me (sure, okay)—were done.

  He’d won a chunk of change. I wanted to make sure he paid Sonny before Sonny started sniffing around and learned that Paul was very much in town. And very much rerouting Sonny’s payout to Tex.

  So, Paul let me in. I walked to the living room and sat on his couch. He sat, too, resting his elbows on his knees and studying a laptop screen. A spreadsheet listed his bets—and man, there were a lot of bets—and the takes and losses for each one.

/>   “You keep a spreadsheet?” I asked, hoping my tone conveyed my distaste for keeping proof of illegal activities.

  “I typed Fantasy Bets.” He pointed at the large title at the top of the page.

  I pulled my palms over my face. He never used to be this careless.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He closed the laptop and stood. “As soon as Tex and I are square, I’m dumping the computer. I’ll… I’ll burn it. I’ll run it over with the car or something.”

  Hands in prayer pose over my lips, I watched him for a moment before saying, “And Sonny.”

  “Huh?”

  “As soon as you and Tex and Sonny are square.”

  “Yeah.” He offered a twitchy shrug. “Of course.”

  “Five hundred before I leave. Don’t make me call Nat.” I stood, too. He knew Nat. All three hundred pounds of him.

  “Dev—”

  “No more free passes, Paul.” I didn’t yell. I didn’t need to. I took one step closer to him and he lifted his palms. “Five hundred in the next sixty seconds,” I said, “or I leave, tell Sonny what really happened to my face, and send Nat back for a thousand.”

  “A thousand! Now listen—”

  “No, you listen!” I poked his chest. “Don’t even think of trying to pull this bullshit again. You know as well as I do—”

  “What the fuck, Devlin?” a loud voice came from behind me.

  I snapped my head to the side to see Paul’s son, Caden, barreling through the house, a gym bag over one shoulder.

  He didn’t slow when he saw me, practically dropping the bag on my shoes.

  “Cade,” Paul said, waving both hands in front of him. “Everything’s fine.”

  Cade narrowed his eyes and held his arms out to make himself look bigger. Granted, it did. Must have been arm day at the gym.

  “Like hell,” he told Paul, but his eyes were on me. “After all we’ve done for you, Dev, you threaten my dad?”

  Shit. I ignored Paul to deal with Cade. “Look—”

  Cade shoved both hands against my chest, sending me back half a step since I wasn’t ready for him. I stood my ground, my fists balled. I wasn’t tussling with him. Cade was old enough to take a punch—just two years younger than me—but out of respect for Paul, I didn’t want to hit his son.