Valentine offered a dark scowl instead of his hand.
Fine by me. Seth dropped the polite invitation to squeeze the shit out of the guy’s fingers. A little power play between real men was standard operating procedure between the ranks. Never let it be said Seth McCray couldn’t hold his own in a test of wills.
“Later,” Valentine muttered, inclining his head to Devereaux like the gentleman he wasn’t.
“Never,” she spat at him, still trembling and her voice shaky. “Leave me alone, Sly. I mean it. I’m not working for you. You’re a murderer.”
The pig grunted. “That lizard bit me.”
“Because you had no business in his cage. You killed him!”
Seth kept his splayed hand at the small of Devereaux’s back, where it felt like it belonged. Not on her ass like he’d done before, but where she’d know he was a gentleman who respected women.
“Simply eliminating an obstacle,” Sly rumbled, his gaze raking over Devereaux. “That’s what I do. Trust me. You’ll see.”
“Back off,” Seth growled, tracking Sly’s every move with his eyes as well as his twitchy fingers. In a heartbeat, he could have his pistol up and on target. No doubt this punk had a blade hidden somewhere on his person. Sly was the kind of coward who stabbed people in the back.
The pig grunted again but kept on moving. Once certain that Valentine was gone, Seth buried his nose in the side of Devereaux’s head and whispered, “Which way to your place?”
A quiet groan vibrated through her chest, the shivering one still pressed tight against him. “I can’t do this,” she told him, the edge in her voice set hard. “You’re as bad as Sly. Go back to your island, Seth. Leave me alone.”
That hurt. Before he gave his mouth license to speak, he blurted, “She’s dead. My fiancée’s been dead for five years, but I… I just…” Saying goodbye was harder than he’d expected. “I can’t seem to let her go. In my head… I still love her, but I know it’s time.”
Devereaux eased out from where she’d settled under his chin to stare up at him. Her hands dropped to his hips. Sad blue eyes blinked at him. “She’s… she’s been dead for five years? But I thought you said… The way you talked back there…” Her brows collided and blink, blink, blink. “Five years?” she asked again, her tone incredibly—incredulous. “What are you, crazy?”
“Yeah. That’s me.” Crazy. The biggest idiot on the East Coast. Maybe borderline insane. Maybe just a fool. He didn’t know which, his hands still gently holding onto her shivering shoulders.
Hell, everyone he worked with knew he’d been inconsolable since Katelynn died. For a long time, he’d been the guy no one wanted to work with, but he’d overcome so much since then. If Devereaux Shepherd was strong enough to take a chance on him, maybe—just maybe—he could let this impossible dream of honoring his vows with his fiancée, which, now that he thought about it, had been driving him to the brink of insanity for far too long, go. Maybe with Devereaux in his life, he could move on.
“It’s just that, I’d loved her all my life. She was my girlfriend since kindergarten. When she died, I took it, umm, really hard.” The understatement of the year.
At least Devereaux hadn’t slapped him yet. Her fingers still fluttered over his chest even as angry as she was.
Seth kept explaining. “I didn’t want to go on living, but then I killed that gangbanger girl in the bar in Chicago, and I—”
Suddenly, Devereaux was out of reach and he was holding an armful of air. “You did what?!”
Instead of retreating from this strong, beautiful pixie, Seth stepped toward her. “This is going to sound crazy, and I know I’m making a mess of explaining things, but yeah.” He ran a hand over his head and ended scratching his brow. “Self-defense. Happened about a week after Katelynn died. I was in a bar with my buddies, drowning my sorrow. You know the drill. But then some chick, Latoya Franklin, showed up with a stolen gun and started shooting the place up. She took two shots at me and missed, but I… didn’t. The police took my statement after it was over, but they didn’t arrest me, and I was never charged. Latoya had a rep and a mile-long rap sheet. They knew her. Said I was a hero. That I saved her from killing anyone, maybe everyone in Harry’s Bar that night.”
Devereaux cocked her head as if trying to understand. “How exactly did she die?”
Oh, that. Seth swallowed hard. Latoya’s death was nothing to be proud of. “Double tap. She never felt a thing.”
Devereaux took a step into him, not yet touching him, but close. “Not her. I meant your fiancée. Katelynn.”
Oh, damn. Her. His tongue ran one lap over his dry lips. “Car crash. On the freeway outside O’Hare. I had a couple weeks leave. She was on her way to the airport to m-marry me.” His gaze dropped to Devereaux’s pretty bare toes. “I loved her, but…”
And there he stopped, convinced he was the biggest loser of all losers. It was time to let Devereaux get on with her life. She didn’t want someone like him in it. Didn’t need the trouble.
“You know what?” he asked no one in particular as he looked over her shoulder to the channel that would lead him to open water. It’d be dawn soon. Might be time for a long, tiring swim. “I need a drink.” Maybe two.
“No, Seth,” she murmured, just before she launched herself into his arms. “What you need,” she said as she kissed the hell out of him, “is this.”
Dear Lord, please let this be real. Seth held on tight while she nipped at his lips, urging him back into this crazy thing called life with every stroke of her tongue and every bite of her teeth. For the first time in years, passion roared to a fever pitch in his veins. He allowed his tongue to tangle with hers as he tasted the fierce sweetness of her. A throbbing beat to protect and serve this audacious woman, to make love to her and never let her go, throbbed in his head.
Finally, she swallowed hard. Her fingertips tickling him with her nervousness. “You’re something else, Seth McCray.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “I loved Katelynn, and back there” —he nodded in the direction of Molly’s Boathouse— “I wasn’t sure which was worse, cheating on the woman I swore I’d love for all eternity, or watching you walk away. I honestly didn’t know how much I’ve missed until you left me standing there like a jerk, but” —he licked his lips, striving to choose the right words at all times— “May I please walk you home, Devereaux Shepherd? I won’t come in. I just need to know you’ll be safe tonight.”
She didn’t answer, just leaned her soft body into his, even as her slender arms snaked around his neck. In exchange for the trust she’d given him, Seth let loose the quixotic burden he’d been carrying ever so carefully. Ever so valiantly. From sea to shining sea. For too damned long.
Katelynn was gone. It was time to let her go. With a shuddering sigh, Seth finally did just that. He bowed his nose to the top of Devereaux’s head and, in his heart, he whispered, ‘Goodbye Kate. I’ll always love you, but I’m not dead and I’m sorry, but I have to live while I’m here.’
Instant relief flooded the depths of his weary soul, releasing the wreck that had been his heart to the freedom of the night sky. So, this is what the last step of grief feels like. Letting go. Moving on. Wanting to live again…
“What am I going to do with you?” Devereaux murmured.
What could he say? The horndog in his pants certainly had very graphic ideas, but more than anything, Seth was a gentleman. He’d do right by this woman if she gave him the chance, but if she didn’t? If this was just a stepping-stone to healing and better mental health? Well, he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he filled his lungs with the salt air and the uniquely feminine fragrance of the tiny fighter snuggled inside his arms.
His chin sank to the crown of her head. Seth closed his eyes. Letting go of Katelynn was hard but losing Devereaux seemed so much worse. Maybe even impossible. His fingers liked where they were in the middle of her back, and his nose craved t
he sweet fresh fragrance of her hair. It was easier to breathe with her in his arms. Life seemed—brighter. Worth living.
Yet tears stung his eyes. He swallowed hard as he said, “About that walk…”
Chapter Eight
They held hands the entire seven blocks to her apartment on Starfish Drive, a low rent district east of the city and away from tourist attractions. Seth seemed lost in his thoughts, which was good because Dev was thoroughly lost in hers. What kind of man hung onto the memories of a dead woman for five years?
She cast a furtive glance at said man. He’d lost his Katelynn around the same time she’d gotten pregnant with Scottie. That seemed to link them on some cosmic level where the universe maintained its balance, where lives were made, and spirits broken. To think that he’d lost the love of his life at the same time she’d received the priceless gift of her son…
Wow. Dev shook her head. The universe didn’t work like that, did it? Take from one; give to another?
He kept looking behind and around them as if he suspected Sly might yet attack, but not once had Seth unlinked their joined fingers. He’d loosened his grip, letting her smaller fingers slide between his where they fit more comfortably. The man did have thicker digits. It was difficult to interlock hands with him, but he hadn’t let her go. She liked that.
But really? No, really? Was this guy as crazy as he’d sounded back there? Was he for real? He still loved a dead woman? One who’d died five years ago? Okay, so she’d been his fiancée, and no doubt he’d truly loved her if he’d asked her to spend the rest of his life with him, but—Who. Did. That? Who mourned that long? Five years! What red-blooded male with an ounce of testosterone in his hot body—and Seth’s handsome body was damned hot—could do such a thing? None she knew. Not even Cord, bless his rowdy, two-timing soul.
By the time she was home, Dev was certain of one thing. Seth McCray was a one-woman man who loved with his whole heart and soul. He was a rare and priceless wonder. And for now, he was all hers.
Finally beneath the trailing jasmine obscuring her front door like a fragrant privacy shield, her heart calmed. Inside this humble little bungalow of peace and hope, a little boy with bright blue eyes dreamed the dreams of the innocent while he waited for her to come home. Scottie was everything pure in Dev’s life, and she meant him to believe in the goodness of others for as long as he could. Life was tough on fatherless children. She needed him to be little and innocent for as long as life allowed.
“This is me,” she whispered to Seth. “Would you like to come in? For… for a cup of coffee or something?” Maybe another kiss?
He stepped in close, crowding her until her back was against the door. One hand settled at her waist, the other somewhere over her head as his forearm hit the doorframe. “I shouldn’t. It’s late, and honestly” —he drew in a shuddering breath— “if I come in, I may not leave.”
Her head bobbed even as her thumb cocked over her shoulder at the door that led to her living room, a ratty second-hand couch, a card table, and three fold-up chairs. “Girlfriend. Trish. Remember? I’m pretty sure you’ll be leaving.”
A couple years older than Dev, Trish Crawford hailed from North Dakota. She and her husband of four years used to come south to the Keys every winter. When he passed away from a weak heart at twenty-six, she’d come south to stay. She said North Dakota held nothing but long, bleak winters, and she needed the sun. Because of his illness, they’d had no kids and she adored Scottie. If Dev could’ve picked a big sister, it would’ve been Trish.
Seth’s brows arched, and her fingertips itched to trace those fine masculine curves and smooth away the question she saw there. “She lives with you?” he asked, his tone low and achingly tender.
“Next door, but she stays over when she watches Scottie for me.” Dev would’ve looked to where Trish’s bungalow butted against hers if she could have. She certainly should have. But Seth’s head canted at the perfect come hither, kiss me angle. His gaze narrowed, and his mouth-watering lips were too close. Too tempting. Too warm.
Ah, hell. A whimper escaped. There was no way to resist this man. Dev lifted to the balls of her feet, tugged him into her face, and laid another one on him. His big body melted against hers, his hands cupping her jaw, and his thumbs soft and so sweet on her cheekbones. Heat rolled off his all-male body, and there in the Florida Keys on a hot summer night, everything inside her vibrated like a burning rattlesnake come to life, throwing enough sparks to ignite the world.
This guy was different than the others she’d allowed in her life. Gentle and warm, Seth’s mouth covered hers, coaxing her to relax and enjoy instead of storming her defenses like a barbarian. He had scandalously delicious lips she didn’t mind nibbling. Their tongues tangled eagerly, returning stroke for stroke. His air became her breath; the smoky taste of whiskey on his tongue, her new favorite flavor. She could’ve dined like this for hours and still been hungry for him.
When his teeth grazed the tip of her tongue at the same time his thumb skated over her nipple, then strummed it into a needy little knot, a bolt of pure molten pleasure lifted up from her core. Anticipation flooded her body with endorphins, hormones, and an outrageous burst of liquid lust. He played her like a delicate harp, plucking the string that connected her breasts to her heart to her core until… until… She nearly came in his hands. Right there at her front door. This guy was magic, and he truly knew how to entice and please a woman.
“Seth,” she hissed, biting his bottom lip, and wanting so much more than just skin-on-skin. “Not here in the open. Oh, oh, okay then. Yessssssssss…”
There in the night, he gave her a full body press, his hips grinding against hers, his impressive cock heavy and hot against her belly, and his wide capable hands now tucked under her ass. Threading her fingers over his bristly hair, she drank him in, breathed him in, and handed over her heart, lock, stock, and barrel. Licking his lips and his chin, she relished the scrape of his one-day scruff on her lips and against her cheek.
Wanting that elusive ‘more’, her tongue trailed up the strong line of his jaw, and just that fast, her pleasure spiked to the stars. Like the winning Super Bowl touchdown, Dev tipped her head back and flew, the pleasure so exquisitely rare that she saw fireworks. Her toes curled with the sensual assault of her first, truly real orgasm ever. Fully dressed!
She unraveled in his skillful hands. The night exploded with wild, wonderfully wet fireworks that pinned her to the heavy wooden door like a butterfly, her heart revealed and hammering high in her throat. Like the lover she’d been searching for, Seth held onto her while her panting body settled back to Earth.
Unsettled at the power he seemed to hold over her, Dev lowered her head and swallowed hard. Panting, she burrowed under his chin. She hadn’t realized he’d lifted her off the ground, but there she was, in the arms of one steaming hot guardian angel. Her nose pressed into the warm hollow of his neck, still drinking him into her soul and needing him more than she wanted to admit. This was a night of firsts, and he was definitely the best of them all. But man, he was strong. Her feet hadn’t touched down since he’d kissed her.
The masculine scent of this gentle warrior reminded her of something she’d craved for too many years—home. Of security and strength, all the things she wanted for herself and for Scottie. Dev wanted a life that held more than a minimum wage job and danger at every turn. She wanted the heart of this amazing man with his timid, honorable mannerisms. The guy who, even now, held her off the ground as if he’d found a treasure he didn’t want to lose. How incredibly sweet was that?
Trish needed to go home. Now.
“Not here,” Dev whispered, her voice suddenly sounding as raw as the thrumming heart in her chest. Her track record sucked. Couldn’t he please be a real man for a change? They were out there; she knew it. Her brother was a real man. Couldn’t Seth stay the rest of the night for no other reason than he chose to stay with her? Not because they were each desperate for the other
, but because she was his chosen one? His only one?
Breathing hard, his forehead sank to the top of her head, and Dev lifted her chin, searching for her reflection in his eyes. And there it was. Even in the dimness of her no-porch-light, one-step porch, a simmering intensity captured her looking up at him. But she also saw the vulnerability in Seth. Despite his rugged military vocation, this man truly believed in love.
“I like kissing you,” he murmured, his tongue darting out to taste the tip of her nose. “A lot.”
“I’ve never, umm, never come like that before,” she told him truthfully, tears stinging her eyes and embarrassed at the echoing vulnerability he’d evoked in her. “Ever.”
He was what she was. Alone in the world even though he wasn’t, a loner holding onto hope in the face of insurmountable odds. Her own parents had rarely approved of her and they’d never laid eyes on Scottie, yet here he was on the doorstep to her whole world.
His chest rumbled with male satisfaction. “Good, but I don’t want to cause trouble. If you’d rather I leave now that you’re home—”
She shushed him with her whole mouth, whimpering as she clutched his head between her hands and swallowed his logical argument. This night and the emotions swirling in her heart had nothing to do with logic, and she wanted it gone. This was about the stars she’d just glimpsed inside the circle of his arms. This was about maybe—just maybe—having found the one soul out of millions who’d just made her feel complete and whole again.
“No, stay,” she breathed. “Please stay.”
Seth’s answering groan as he set her on her feet was the best reply ever.
Chapter Nine
“You left your cell at home!” the Amazon warrior called Trish hissed the second Devereaux cleared the doorway with her hand still in Seth’s. Tall, angular, and hopping mad, Trish stabbed a finger in Seth’s direction. “Who’s this guy? One of Sly’s asshole buddies?”
Seth (In the Company of Snipers Book 17) Page 7
