“Wait, damn it,” he growled as if she’d pushed him too far, when she’d barely started pushing him at all. Stretching that glorious male body, Seth opened his nightstand drawer and produced a foil-encased condom.
“You don’t need that,” she informed him. “I’m covered.”
Still fingering the condom, he canted his head. “By?”
And wasn’t that intent light in Seth’s eyes just too sweet for words? He cared. He honestly cared! He knew what he was doing with her—to her—and he cared enough to act responsibly beforehand, something What’s-His-Name had never considered, not before or after their one hook up. Wow. The difference that one little word made.
“The three-month shot,” she breathed. “Depo-Provera. I made that mistake once, not making it again.”
“You didn’t want Scottie?” he asked, his voice filled with incredulity.
“I didn’t then, but I do now,” she explained. “That ended up being the best mistake of my life, but next time, I want to do things right with the right guy.”
One sexy brow spiked. “Am I doing things” —the hottest gaze stroked over her bare flesh on its way to the scrap of lace between her legs— “right?”
“Yes,” she squeaked, her heart climbing up her throat, squeezing her voice box. And you are so much the right guy.
“Well, okay then.” Bending over her, Seth drew her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth and suckled, drawing the bowstring between her breasts and her core so damned tight that she arched into his hips as if he’d pulled her there. If he kept this up, she’d be finished before they started. She’d come like she had on her front porch step, in his hand.
While he devoured her breasts, his fingers slipped down her belly to her panties, easing them out of his way and spreading fire everywhere they touched. She bucked against his fingers, needing him to burn with her. Moaning his name and mewling for more. The calluses of a working man’s fingers and thumb scraped over her tenderest flesh, while his mouth laved her nipples with tender precision.
“Seth,” she hissed into the top of his head. She’d wanted him to come with her, but that wasn’t happening, not as fast as this slingshot into the stars was taking her. If he didn’t hurry…
“Yes,” she growled, grinding into his hands, wanting more of him. All of him.
Seth obliged, stripping her bare, even as his body joined hers with one firm thrust of his hips.
The heated connection burned as they flew. Soared. Rocketed. All that and more, this joining so fierce that it brought tears to Dev’s eyes. Thrumming with the exquisite pleasure this man’s body had brought hers, she swallowed hard, wondering at the sudden tsunami of tender emotions cresting in her heart. Why him? Why now?
She’d known Seth McCray less than a day, which didn’t equate to knowing him at all. She had no idea of his likes or dislikes, when his birthday was or how long he planned to stay when he’d said he was staying. What did that mean to a man in the throes of passion and lust? Probably not what she’d thought it meant. Which meant… trouble.
Staying power was a hard commodity amongst men. They came and they went, and in between coming and going, they told just enough lies to shatter a girl’s heart when they’d finally had enough of her and left. Even Cord, whom she’d adored her entire life, had never stayed with one woman long enough to bring her around, much less introduce her to Dev. Yet here Seth was, another man. A very different man, giving her his passion and what surely felt like a piece of his heart.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she stifled a sob, holding onto him, so he wouldn’t see the hot mess she’d turned into.
Seth pressed a steamy kiss to her eyebrow, then another onto her sweaty forehead, his lips so damned tender and impossibly sweet. “What’s wrong, Devereaux?”
She couldn’t speak, didn’t dare. There was nothing wrong, just very, very right—if she’d interpreted his words correctly. For the first time in years, Dev felt as if someone might truly have her back. It was just possible she didn’t have to fight the world alone anymore.
Chapter Twenty
Seth trailed his fingertip over Devereaux’s lush lips, now swollen and red from his mouth and his whiskers. She hadn’t answered, so he let it go. Sometimes, the heart was just too tender to express itself with mere words.
He’d ended up leaning on his knees between her legs, still sheathed in her deliciously warm body, and not finished making love with her by a long shot. One elbow rested on the pillow above her shoulder, while his other hand cupped her backside, never wanting to let her go. This was a first for him. While he’d never shared sex with Katelynn, he’d hooked up now and then after her death, but never skin to skin. The delightful sensation of being intimately bare inside Devereaux made this intimate act somehow sacred and holy. Rare.
Male satisfaction washed up his spine as aftershocks surged through her core and rippled along his length. This woman was fire and ice, one moment telling him she didn’t need him, the next, throwing herself with wild abandon into his care, and he was fairly certain, giving her heart away, too. She didn’t seem to know how to do things half-assed, not this girl. She loved deeply, and she gave freely, but as much as he loved that quality in Devereaux, Seth could also see how depleted her emotional stores were. She gave too much, too quickly, and it was killing her zest for life.
Not with him, of course, but with everyone else, she needed a buffer before there was nothing left for her to give Scottie.
“Mmmmmm,” she purred beneath him, the soft, wet heaven of her mouth a heady balm to his weary soul. He’d been alone and adrift for so long. Dropping his lips to hers, Seth closed his eyes and let his heart believe that she was that one-in-a-million, once-in-a-lifetime woman. That lightning did strike twice. That he could—please, God—be lucky enough to know how to please her and to keep her.
Licking her bottom lip one last time, he eased to his knees enough that he could see where her body joined with his. Warm and willing, her hands on his biceps, she arched into him and whined, “Don’t go. Not yet. Please. I need—”
“More?” He grinned at that utterly feminine request. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered as he began a tender version of what they’d just done. Slow and easy, he eased himself into the best task he’d set his mind to in a long while.
Devereaux cooperated every slippery inch of the way. When he licked her lips, she kissed him like he’d never been kissed before. When he thrust, she bowed her body, arching up off the bed and into him. This woman knew what she wanted and let him know with her lips, fingertips, even her toes, that were now smoothing up the sides of his thighs as her body blossomed for him. Devereaux had no low or medium speed. She was reckless, and everything she did was full speed ahead, and yes, yes—Yes!
A ferocious need to possess and protect her stormed Seth’s finer senses, driving his body deeper into hers, while his teeth and lips marked her neck and breasts. Love bites. Raspberries. Claiming her body, and hopefully, her heart. He’d never felt this depth of passion or lust, not with Katelynn or any of those very forgettable one-night stands. This thing with Devereaux was no one-time coming together, no easy hook-up with blithe regrets and goodbyes come morning.
Seth was into this woman to win her.
Her screaming second orgasm drove him toward the finish line. Then, as if filled with the same need to claim him, her fingernails scratched down his shoulder blades and over his back. Marking him. Ah, the glorious pain of ownership. Those welts would physically heal, damn it, but the coinciding marks on his heart, true or not, would last far longer. If anything, he was as bad as this woman. Hoping too soon. Expecting too much too quickly. Giving the damn farm away after one glorious day of the tenderest lovemaking he’d ever known.
She complied as if she’d read his mind. Devereaux arched, thrusting her hips off the mattress as he pounded into her. Giving all, even as he took all. Release hit him hard, a fiery surge up his spine that ended with a husky growl of, “D
evereaux! God, Devereaux…”
Then…
Pure. Bliss.
A rumbling groan of sublime pleasure vibrated through every spent sinew and throbbing vein until Seth collapsed into her arms, breathing hard with his nose nestled in the crook of her neck. The sweet musky scent of her sex intoxicated him all over again. Raindrops and sunshine—that was Devereaux to her core.
“Mhmmm,” she purred, her body gone soft and warm beneath him like melted maple syrup on piping hot French toast, his favorite. Angel soft fingertips fluttered up his back and down again, settling on his hips, which he hadn’t realized until this moment, were ticklish as hell. “You’re something else, Seth McCray.”
“No, I’m not,” he replied. Not compared to you. You’re the saint. I’m the sinner.
“Oh, yes you are.” Her voice pitched low and sultry. Smoky. “You just made me see stars. I might’ve even touched heaven. I’ve never done anything like it before.”
His lips quirked with masculine pride. “Then you’ve been with the wrong guy.” Thank you, Jesus.
“I have,” she admitted on a sigh.
Rolling to his feet, Seth eased to the floor, then walked to the bathroom for a cloth to clean his lady. My lady. Two simple words that had changed many a man’s life, and just possibly his.
“Mhmmm,” Devereaux murmured from the bed. “I’m loving the view. Hurry back. I want to see the flip side.”
“I’ve seen your flip side,” he flirted over his shoulder, pleased to his toes that she seemed to see beyond the scars to the real him.
At her side again, he took special care of her, then discarded the cloth in his hamper before he climbed into bed. Tugging her tempting body against his chest, he drew the sheet up to cover them both. They spooned, her back to his chest, his fingers intertwined with hers under her chin. Life had a funny way of making him believe this could last.
“You’re still a redhead,” he said because he’d sure as hell noticed. “So why the bleached blonde look? I almost didn’t recognize you that night.”
Her shoulders scrunched as she giggled. “Because I needed to make some drastic changes in my life. I’d just survived having a baby on my own. My mom and dad didn’t want me hanging around. It was time to make changes, so I got up one morning, cut my hair, and turned into a platinum blonde. Then I packed up my baby and my bags, and here we are.”
“Your parents didn’t want you around?” Seth couldn’t imagine the day his mom and dad didn’t call or text him. Even as remote as he’d become, as withdrawn after Katelynn’s passing, they still touched base with him nearly every week. If not them, one of his uncles or his mother’s sister, his Aunt Sheena.
“My turn. You actually inked mom in that tattoo of yours?” Devereaux asked as her fingers traced the vines inked into a heart on his left bicep.
Oh that. “Mom had a cancer scare. Melanoma,” he admitted without an ounce of embarrassment. “I was overseas when I got the word, but she didn’t want me coming home until I had to, so I did the next best thing. I got inked and put her in my heart. ‘S no big deal.”
“But there are two hearts on that meaty muscle,” she teased. “The other’s still empty. Is the other one reserved for your dad?”
“Katelynn,” he said honestly. Devereaux might as well know everything. “I was going to have her pretty face inked there, when I got home, only…” And there he stopped, the memory of the woman he’d lost still too tender to merely chat about.
Devereaux turned in his arms to face him, her head resting on the double hearts on that bicep. “I know how much you loved her. That had to be the worst day of your life. I’m sorry, Seth.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “One of many. No worries. I’ll survive.”
She snuggled under his chin then, her ear to his breastbone, and her fingertips smoothing up his bicep to his shoulder. Massaging a comforting circle of warmth as if she knew how much that simple gesture meant to a loser like him. He’d never been lucky in love. He might not be now, but… a man can dream.
“You can still put Katelynn there, Seth. You should. You loved her.”
If the depth of understanding and genuine kindness in that simple suggestion didn’t slay him, nothing could. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, his throat gone dry, “but it seemed… wrong, you know, if I ever married, to have another woman’s face permanently inked into my skin.”
Wide blue eyes peered up at him. She had a habit of biting her bottom lip when she was thinking, and man, he was falling deeper into the ocean called Devereaux.
“But a smart woman who truly loved you would understand that you had a life before,” she told him, tugging that lip between her teeth and worrying it. “I’ve seen plenty of guys and gals with tats on their arms, chests, and calves honoring their fallen friends. Why’s this any different? A love like you had with Katelynn should live on forever, even if it’s just in a picture. True love’s rare, Seth. Think about it. You can still add that memorial to her. I know a couple good tattoo parlors in town. Jordie’s would do you and Katelynn proud.”
Me and Katelynn? Hearing that spoken out loud sounded—wrong, as if Katelynn and Seth were someone else. Another couple. Another time. As if they’d had their chance and missed it. Going back in time to recreate a history that wasn’t meant to be, seemed counterfeit. Fake.
“Really? You wouldn’t be jealous of another woman’s face on my arm?”
The corners of Devereaux’s lips curved into a hesitant smile. She knew as well as he did what his question implied. Only girlfriends and wives had the right to be jealous. Which was she?
Her lashes fell as her palm moved to his chest, warming him with her heat. “Not at all, Seth. It’s what warriors do. They remember their friends. They never forget the people who mattered the most to them. I think it helps them get on with their lives.” Her voice had gone breathy, and he could see her pulse quickening in the hollow of her neck.
“You’d come with me?” he asked as his fingers splayed over her shoulder blades, holding onto the one pure thing in his life. “I mean, if I ever decided to get that ink? You’d be there with me, wouldn’t you?”
Devereaux looked up at him, her lashes wet. “Yes, Seth. I’d go anywhere with you.”
He kissed her hard and he kissed her long, so thankful for that willing answer. She seemed like a gift he didn’t deserve but would—God willing—spend the rest of his life nurturing and pleasing. Time went by so quickly, and he of all people, knew the cost of complacency, of taking those final few seconds and minutes of life for granted. Each second was a treasure, an opportunity to work and live, to sweat, bleed, but mostly—to look up at the stars and to play and to love.
His lips burned to tell her, to whisper that one binding word, but it was too soon. Way too soon. But he thought it, even as he kissed her with every beat of his heart. I think I love you, Devereaux. I do.
Breathlessly, they ended the kiss. Indebted to this charming pixie with the strength of a lion in his arms, Seth pressed for information. “So tell me about Scottie’s father,” he asked quietly. Who is the jerk?
She didn’t hesitate. “James Brand, one of the copilots I worked with. He’s rich and entitled. I was just one of many.”
“He pays child support?”
“No way. That would mean he has parental rights, and trust me, he’s the last person Scottie and I need in our lives.”
Seth waited. There was more to the story. She just needed to want to share it with him.
She tucked their joined fingers under her chin. “He told me to get an abortion when I chased him down and told him, so yeah. Brand has no rights to Scottie, and he never will. My son deserves a real man in his life, not some worm with a god complex.”
“Scottie’s a good kid,” Seth agreed. “He’s smart. I can tell. One of these days, we need to read ‘Old Yeller’ to him. I don’t think he’ll be as upset by it as you think.”
“Maybe
,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. “He keeps asking, probably because of the big, fluffy golden lab on the book cover. They’re such a happy-go-lucky breed. Maybe I should get him a dog, something to snuggle.”
“Labs are almost as smart as Gru,” Seth said, tongue in cheek. “But ‘Old Yeller’ is a story about a boy becoming a man. Scottie might not understand that, but he’s already quite the little man. You’ve done well with him. Who’s watching him now? Cord?”
“No, Trish has him for the day, at least until I get home. Cord’s too… busy.”
“We can leave whenever you’re ready,” Seth offered as he breathed in the scent of his woman.
“I don’t want to. Not yet,” she purred, wiggling her backside against his belly, arousing the simmering fire still coursing through his veins. “I don’t get many days off. This is nice, being here with you.”
“It is,” he agreed, holding onto every last second with her. “It was Cord’s idea, wasn’t it? He told you to dust me off.”
“Ah huh.” A big sigh. “Something’s going on he doesn’t want you involved with.”
“And that would be?”
Gradually the story came out. Princess Lianna Khadeem. Basheer Bagani. Roland Montego.
“No kidding? How long’s Cord worked for my uncle?”
“Nearly two years,” Devereaux answered, her voice growing drowsier and drowsier. She couldn’t have gotten much sleep last night. Yet there was more to the story. Seth knew it, or she wouldn’t have ventured out into a storm that, even now, whipped at the walls of his shack like a soaking wet demon dog shaking a bone.
Ducking beneath the sheet, Seth pressed a kiss to the nape of her slender neck. “Sleep tight,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake. Then I want the rest of the story.”
Seth (In the Company of Snipers Book 17) Page 16
