by Sabrina York
“Hmm. Me too.” Was that his hand skating over her back? It sent shivers up and down her spine.
“It’s nice.” He traced her nape and her pulse hitched.
“Mmm.”
He led her in a spin that made her dizzy. Or maybe that was the brush of his groin against hers. The kiss of his hard arousal. The fact that he was hot for her, here, now, amidst a crowd of strangers, excited her.
Inspired her.
He had agreed to her terms. She should be thrilled. She was thrilled. But a part of her was incensed that he had.
A part of her wanted to punish him for that.
They took a few more steps and she returned the favor, rubbing herself against him like a cat on a tuna can. At the same time, she scored her nails along his nape. She loved his guttural groan. It was only a breath, and only in her ear, but it stated—as though he had crowed it aloud—he was completely focused on her every move.
“Tara…”
She peeped up at him. “Yes, Devlin?” A purr.
“Are you teasing me?”
“Who, me?” The batted lashes were probably not necessary. But she liked that the two of them were moving from the earlier awkwardness into roles she understood. She hadn’t liked the intensity, the crackling sentiment that had risen up between them tonight. Their relationship had always been casual, playful. She was comfortable there—
Her heart froze as she realized what she’d just thought. Their relationship?
They didn’t have a relationship.
They had a series of meaningless—although very satisfying—trysts. Trysts did not a relationship make.
Aggravated with herself at the lapse, she pressed into him again, determined to prove, once and for all, that was all this was. She was gratified that he responded. Exactly as he should.
With lust.
He spun her to the edge of the crowd, where the shadows lingered and pressed her up against the wall. The scrape of his teeth against the tender flesh of her neck made her knees wobble.
“Are you teasing me?” Again, a hushed whisper, but with a band of steel.
In response, she skated her hand over his silky shirt, down the broad muscles of his back, and around front, to wedge between them. “Hmm?”
“Tara…”
She cupped him. He was hard. Engorged. She could feel his pulse thrumming there, in tandem with the ticking vein on his brow. She went up on her tiptoes and nibbled at the underside of his chin, then made her way along the line of his jaw to suck the little spot below his ear, all the while, stroking his heavy cock between their bodies.
He hissed out a harsh breath and pressed them closer together, trapping her hand. “I’m warning you.”
She tipped back her head and shot him a grin. “Are you?” His hot gaze blazed into her. “What are you going to do? Teach me a lesson? Here? In public?” This she offered in a pouty tone as she raked her nails over his chest. When she hit his nipples, his entire body clenched.
He flicked a quick glance over his shoulder and around the room and then, without a word, took her arm and yanked her into the hallway leading to the bathrooms.
“Devlin!” she squealed, “I was kidding!”
But he, apparently, was not.
Holy Hannah. That she could inflame him so, with a couple whispers, a caress here or there… Well, it inflamed her too.
He made his way down the empty hall, opening and closing doors. The bathrooms he passed by completely. But then he found a room, way at the back of the hall, a storage room filled with brooms and buckets and cases of toilet paper, and yanked her inside.
“Devlin…”
“Hush.”
He silenced her with a kiss, a wild hot, scorching kiss. It was brain numbing, but somewhere in the vast reaches of time and space, she recognized the sound of the lock clicking shut.
He backed her up against the door, fisted his fingers in her hair and held her still as he ravaged her mouth.
He played her, played her like the members of the band played their fiddles. Soft and hard, fast and furious, stretching her nerves and scraping her sanity.
Though he was much taller than she. He insinuated his legs between hers and edged her legs apart, then bent and pressed his hard cock against her sensitive clit. And rubbed.
She nearly fainted from the ribbons of pleasure wrapping around her, tightening her. Binding her in delight. Her body ached, her nipples pebbled, her pussy wept.
Lord, she wanted him. Needed this.
Craved it.
“Yes, yes.”
His response was a grunt. A shift. He skimmed one hand down her flank, pausing to toy with her nipple. Only when he had her shaking did he continue to the hem of her skirt. Teasing fingers danced their way back up, beneath the fabric.
He found her center—how could he not, it was hot and wet and swollen—and traced her gently over her panties.
Then he slipped beneath the band.
The touch of his fingertip on her throbbing clitoris nearly did her in. Hard and tight and aching, it screamed for more. He slipped deeper.
“Devlin—”
“Hush.”
His tongue played with her lips, teasing at first, and then he thrust it in. At the same moment, he plunged his fingers deep inside her, stroking her, tormenting her, filling her.
She threw back her head and made a feral sound.
“Hush. We don’t want to get caught.”
Her pulse launched into overdrive. They were in public. She’d nearly forgotten. Hell, she had forgotten. It horrified her. And excited her.
The conflicting emotions paralyzed her.
Naturally, he took advantage, continuing, deepening his exploration. She came a little when he thrust in another finger, then came a lot when he added yet another, sinking deep and nudging her here and there and then…yes, yes, yes. “Right there. Yes.”
“You’re so wet.” A growl in her ear.
“I’m wet for you.”
A snarl. “And so fucking hot.”
“I’m hot for you.”
He pulled back and glared at her. Perhaps it wasn’t a glare, but it was intense and fierce and angry. “Are you? Are you hot for me?”
“You know I am.”
“What do you want?” She loved his tone, how clipped and snarly it was.
“You, baby. I want you.”
“Who?” A bark.
“What?” He stopped moving inside her and she wiggled a little, to remind him of his task.
“Who do you want?”
“You.” She reached for his cock again—to motivate him—but he pressed it against her leg, so she couldn’t reach it. She frowned at him.
“Say my name.”
Ah. “Devlin. I want you, Devlin. I want you to fuck me.”
He did something inside her, something she’d never felt before, and a curtain of heat descended, consuming her face, her neck, her breasts, her belly and finally, her womb. She seized. “Oh. Oh. Oh.” Rapture.
He continued to play her, to keep her orgasm alive, as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. She was possessed of the urge to sink to her knees, to pull him into her mouth and suck him dry, but he did not allow it.
Instead, he slipped on a condom, giving her a dark, determined glance, then wound her loose hair around his fist and turned her, angled her, so she was standing before him. And then he bent her over.
“Spread your legs.”
She did so, too addlepated to think about the sopping panties she still wore.
He had not forgotten them.
He slipped his fingers into the crotch and ripped them off in one harsh yank. She didn’t even have the wherewithal to protest because without delay, he took her.
His cock felt good, slipping into her folds. So large and full. Warm. Thrumming. He thrust deep, taking her all the way.
The hovering orgasm pinged again and she clenched at him.
He sucked in a breath. “Is this what you want? Is this why you wer
e teasing me tonight?” Another thrust.
“Yes. Yes.” She might have been answering his question, or not. It hardly mattered. She suspected it had been a rhetorical question anyway.
“God, baby.” He anchored his grip on her hips and held her steady, yanking out and plunging deep again. Each lunge sent slivers of delight dancing along every nerve. “So tight. So deep.”
The sound of flesh slapping flesh mingled with their grunts and groans, the music thrumming through the amplifiers a mere wraith in the background. Everything was there, in that place they connected. As though all existence shrank down to that one magnificent merging.
She spread her legs further and pushed back into him, flattening herself against him as he took her from behind. With each lunge, his balls slapped against her raw clit. As his pace increased, tightened, became more frantic, the sensation intensified, overtook her.
She didn’t even bother holding back. She gave her release full rein. Her body seized, shook. Her pulse raced. A wet heat flooded her. Sensation exploded, taking her along on a spinning journey, a panoply of dancing colors and mindless joy.
His thrusts devolved into short, hard jerks and then to nothing but shudders. But each movement beset her with a wash of gentle bliss, like a receding wave, leisurely lapping the shore.
Still buried deep, he held her as they recovered.
Why was it he always left her gasping for breath? Brainless and boneless and wanting more?
She sighed and relaxed against him.
“Good?” He murmured, kissing her neck and running a hand down her body.
“Hmm.” So good. So incredibly fucking good.
He slipped beneath her skirt again and stroked her sensitive clit. She lurched as another wave scudded her senses and they separated. She forced a chuckle. “Sorry,” she said, not meeting his eye. It wouldn’t do for him to know how deeply that had affected her. In fact, she didn’t even want to face it. “Where are my panties?”
He looked around, squinting against the murk of a room lit by nothing more than the flickering beacon of the smoke alarm. “Here they are.” He picked them up and held them out to her.
She couldn’t hold back a snort.
“What?”
“You shredded them.” She dangled them between her fingers. Good God. They were destroyed. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?”
He shot her a crooked grin as he pulled up his pants. “Sorry?”
She frowned. “Not only did you drag me back into a storage closet filled with nasty mops—”
“They are hardly nasty at all.”
“And fuck me like a two penny whore—”
“I would definitely have paid more.”
“You shredded my underwear. Shredded them.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.” His expression indicated he might enjoy the prospect.
She smacked him with them and broke out in a laugh when he grabbed them and brought them to his nose, taking a big gusty whiff. “Devlin Fox!”
Her admonishment had no effect. In fact he waggled his brows, murmured “Yummy,” and tucked her bedraggled panties in his pocket.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His lips curved. “Keeping them.”
“For what?”
He suddenly sobered. His gaze was scorching. “For later.”
She sighed. “What do you need them for…later?”
He leaned in and kissed her. In the hazy green glow of the smoke alarm, she couldn’t help but notice the harsh, hungry lines of his face. “Because, darling, now we have to go out there and chit chat and act as though we didn’t just fuck like animals in this broom closet. And for the rest of the night, I have to deal with the knowledge that you aren’t wearing any panties.”
She shook her head. “But what does that—”
Realization dawned.
Unbidden, her attention drifted down to his pants, to the pocket in which he’d stuffed her panties. A soft little bulge.
And right next to it…a hard one.
Chapter Sixteen
As he escorted Tara back to the table, Devlin was a little wobbly. His knees were weak, his pulse was thrumming and—inconceivably—he was hard again. Hard for her.
After that. After the most amazing, mind-blowing, incredible closet sex he’d ever had. Technically, it was the only closet sex he’d ever had, but still. By all laws of nature, he should be limp as a wet noodle for a week. But he wasn’t.
He wanted her again.
Thankfully, the bar was murky and crowded and no one seemed to notice his hard on. He scanned the room to make sure no one was staring at them, but the other patrons in the bar were all oblivious.
Charlie and Tina were oblivious as well. To everything but each other. As he and Tara approached the table, the two had their heads together in deep conversation, not even emerging when he and Tara took their seats.
He glanced at her. Was he the only one who could see the sheen of dew on her cheeks? The glint in her eye? The slight upward tilt of her lips? Was he the only one who could see how freshly-fucked she looked?
God, he hoped so.
He had no idea how much noise they’d made and was thankful no one had come to investigate. That would have been awkward.
But even if they’d been caught, he would probably do it again. And again. Any chance he got.
Half of his exhilaration came from the residual effects of that mind-bending fuck. The other half stemmed from the fact that he’d had her again. He’d so missed her touch, her scent. Her presence.
He wasn’t crazy about their fuck buddies agreement, but at least it was something. And like Charlie said, at least something was something. It was a place to start.
He took her hand and she allowed it, though she drew their laced fingers beneath the table to rest on his thigh. He liked that, holding hands with her under the table…until her thumb reached out to skim over his slacks.
Hell. Was she teasing him? Again? He sent her a glower, but there was little heat in it. How could there be? He had little heat left to give. She’d taken it all.
She smiled in return and offered a saucy wink.
And something inside him tipped to the side. It might have been the universe.
It was a strange place and time to realize something so potent—with the fiddlers playing in the background and the glasses clinking at the bar and Charlie and Tina nattering on—but maybe it simply happened when it did. But all of a sudden, Devlin realized why he had ached for her so bad. Why he had missed her so much. Why being with her again had flooded him with elation. Why he was willing to do anything, offer everything, to be with her.
Yeah. He loved her. Loved her with a capital L.
Loved her smile, loved her laugh. Loved her frown and her growls. Loved her face. Her hair, her body, her scent. Loved her heart and mind and soul.
The realization scared him to death…and excited him beyond belief.
The buzzing noise in the back of his head turned out to be Charlie and Tina discussing ideas for an outing. Since Tina was leaving soon, Charlie wanted to show her around the area tomorrow.
He glanced across the table. “You two are welcome to come along,” he said, clearly as an afterthought.
“Oh, you must.” Tina turned to her sister. “We don’t have much time together as it is. I don’t want to miss a whole day.
“What do you have planned?” Tara asked, munching on a peanut from the bowl.
Charlie beamed. “First we’re going hiking.” Devlin grimaced. He was not much of a hiker. “And then we’re going to Snoqualmie Falls.”
“How can we… I mean…” He tried very hard not to look at Charlie’s chair. “Hiking?”
“Both the Burke-Gilman Trail and the Sammamish River Trail are wheelchair accessible,” Charlie said, shooting Devlin a teasing scowl. Or maybe not so teasing. “This is the twenty-first century, after all.”
“Mmm.” Tara murmured. “The Locks to Lakes Corridor.”
/> “Exactly. It’ll be fun.” Charlie gored Devlin with a gimlet gaze. “Are you in?”
Devlin tried to hide his pout. He wanted to spend time with Tara, but walking for fun was, well, not fun. He’d never quite understood his brother’s passion for the outdoors.
But he’d attended a BDSM party for her—with the sole purpose of being near her once again. And that had paid off. Maybe he should give it a try.
“Well? Are you?”
“I suppose,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat. Tara’s grin caught his attention.
It was an exceedingly evil grin.
To his surprise, he thoroughly enjoyed the day. For one thing, Tara was there, and in a playful mood. For another, he got a glimpse of the other side of his brother. One he’d never seen before.
A man who was capable and determined—stubborn, even. A man who could overcome any obstacle.
The difference for Charlie was that the obstacles were more plentiful. A raised curb, for example. Devlin stepped over it without a thought. For Charlie, it required a little maneuvering. But he could do it. He could do anything.
With a wash of mortification, Devlin realized how wrong he’d been to underestimate his brother. He’d known Charlie his whole life. He should have known better.
Maybe it was time for Devlin to reevaluate his thinking. Maybe Charlie wasn’t a helpless cripple after all. Maybe the ability to stand on your own two feet wasn’t what defined a person after all.
Life tossed all kinds of IEDs into a man’s path. The measure of his mettle was how he dealt with them.
Charlie, it appeared, embraced the adventure, despite the difficulties. When they came to the first slight slope, he not only released his hold on his wheels, he pushed harder, flying down the grade with Tina jogging by his side. They both laughed. In those trills, Devlin heard it. The sheer joy of being alive.
And he realized, he’d missed it. The big picture.
In Charlie’s mind he wasn’t disabled. He was blessed. He was a survivor. With everything he’d seen and done, with everything he’d been through, being alive was a gift. A treasure. No matter the circumstances.
It was humbling. And heartening.
