Devon Drake, Cornerback

by Jean C. Joachim

  He slid his hand up her thigh to her wet warmth. She moaned as he teased her, pressing, circling, and stroking her. Devon rose up on his knees. She closed her fingers around him. He was like velvet-covered steel.

  “Oh, baby. If you do that…” But he closed his eyes and froze as she continued to slide her hand up and down on him.

  “What? You’ll come?”

  “Damn right, I will.” He moved her hand to his cheek then kissed her palm. “I love you so much, baby. Please believe me.”

  “Do it. Take me.”

  Again he touched her, slipping a finger inside. “You’re ready.”

  She bucked her hips up as he added another. A few hard pumps, and Stormy was about to explode. He stopped and grabbed her hips. He rubbed himself on her to lubricate his erection then plunged in. After one thrust, Stormy’s muscles clenched and a powerful orgasm washed through her, sending pleasure all the way to her toes.

  “Oh, yeah,” Devon muttered. He kissed her, increasing his force. “Mine. Mine, you’re mine,” he mumbled, eyes shut as he pounded into her.

  Stormy clung to his powerful shoulders. Her breathing was ragged, and her body hummed. She was his. There was no denying it. She had been since she was five years old.

  Heat rose inside her for a second time. Devon was relentless and his control amazing.

  “I love you. I love you. Give it to me, baby,” he muttered.

  Tension ripped through her like a tornado, twisting up and up until release claimed her. Devon let go at the same time. They both cried out then he collapsed on her, bracing himself with his hands.

  She held his face and kissed his cheeks. She had missed his lovemaking. The moment he had touched her, she’d known they’d end up in her uncomfortable bed. Devon rolled off her and padded to the bathroom. Stormy lay back, fingers laced behind her head, and let out a breath.

  When he returned, he scooped her into his arms. She nestled into his embrace, resting her cheek on his warm, damp chest. His scent soothed her. For a moment, she was back in his house, in his bed, ready for sleep.

  He brushed her hair back from her forehead then kissed it.

  “I love you too, Dev.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s obvious.”

  “Damn! And I thought I was being so cool.”

  “That’s one of the things I love about you. You’re not cool.”

  “Never have been. Never will be.”

  He shifted around to face her. “Before we go further, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  The happiness in her heart vanished like a mist in the August sun. Her stomach clenched.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What?”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions.” Man up, asshole.

  “Okay.”

  “Just listen.” Do it. Don’t chicken out.

  “I said ‘okay’.” Stormy twisted the sheet in her hand as she sat back.

  “It’s about the dance.” Devon took a breath.

  “Do we have to go there?”

  “You promised to listen.”

  She made a grumbling noise, frowning, but turned her attention to him.

  “I was fifteen then. Remember Tommy Hennings?”

  She nodded.

  “He was my best friend. Guy friend. Anyway, I told him I had a crush on you.”

  “You what?” She bolted upright.

  “Listening? Remember.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “I made a mistake telling him. A dumb mistake. I told Tommy I was in love with you. He swore he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “But—”

  “Quiet? Okay. He asked Marybeth Johnson to the dance. She turned him down. He was mad, real mad. He took it out on me.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I’m getting to that. He told the guys, the ones in my crowd, that I was in love with you. A girl two years younger. They made fun of me. So, I denied it.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah. They didn’t believe me and kept it up for two weeks. They called you a baby and me a cradle robber, and then a lot of names that were much worse. I was embarrassed beyond belief. My friendship with Tommy was over. But then, there was the dance.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “They saw you and decided to test me, to see if I was really over my crush. It wasn’t really a crush. I’d loved you for a long time, just didn’t realize it, I guess. They goaded me, pushed me, prodded me, and threatened me. Said they were going to spread a rumor that you had slept with all of them if I didn’t dis you.”

  Stormy took his hand.

  “I couldn’t let that happen. I admit it. I was a coward. Let them push me around. But I knew they meant what they said. They’d ruin you, just to be mean.”

  “That’s why you made me cry?”

  He nodded. “I suppose I went farther than I needed to. But I wanted them to believe me. I told myself that I’d explain it all to you later. But you wouldn’t speak to me. You stopped coming around. Sam went to your house instead.”

  “Right.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “You might think this is stupid, telling you now. I mean, who cares? Who gives a fuck, fifteen years later?”

  “And?”

  “I’m telling you because I want to prove to you that I’ve always loved you. Never stopped. Even though we haven’t seen each other for a long time, my feelings never changed.” He let out a breath. I did it.

  Tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “You did that for me?”

  “I did. I felt rotten. I could see I was hurting you. I convinced myself the truth would fix everything. I tried for two years to get a minute alone with you. But you wouldn’t even look at me. Then, I was in college, and it was too late.”

  “I had no idea why you were trying to talk to me. I was afraid you were going to say more mean stuff. I cried for three hours after the dance.”

  Pain shot through him. “I guess I made the wrong decision.”

  “I understand why you did what you did.”

  “And I get why you thought I was going to be mean.”

  “I’ve always loved you too.” She blushed. “I never thought I’d tell you this, but I used to dream about a big, white dress with a huge train and my wedding to you. I was only thirteen, but I had big plans.”

  Devon cuddled closer to her. “Make it come true. Marry me.”

  “You don’t love Jackie?”

  “Nope. Never have. Jackie is all about Jackie. I get that she has to be that way to make a success in acting and stuff. She’s not for me. You are. You always have been. You get me. Can I help it if you make the best mud pies?”

  Stormy laughed. Devon took her in his arms, laid her back on the bed, and kissed her silly.

  “So, will you?” he asked, when he came up for air.

  “How can I turn down a man who’s marrying me for my mud pies?”

  “You can’t. Say it. Say you will.”

  “I will marry you, Devon Drake.”

  “Ah, yes. Thank you for making my dream come true.”

  * * * *

  Stormy couldn’t stop smiling.

  “How long will it take you to get out of this lease and quit your job?”

  “I’m a contract worker, not an employee. I can leave whenever I want.”

  He tossed an envelope on the table. “Here’s an open-ended ticket. Fly home as soon as you can. Send your stuff. Junk that rust bucket.”

  “What about Brodie?”

  “Bring him. We’ve already bonded. I love dogs. We could never have a dog when I was growing up. Too many kids.”

  “Us too!”

  He pulled out his checkbook and wrote. “Here’s two thousand dollars. Pay off your landlord, if you have to, and end your lease. I want you back as soon as possible.”

  “When do you have to be back?”

  “Opening game is in three weeks. Can you return by then?”

  “I t
hink so. Who are you playing?”

  “The Sidewinders. I can’t wait.”

  “You’ll beat them this time.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “What about a wedding?”

  “Can you wait until after the season’s over? Then, it’s anywhere you want, any time you want, any way you want. It’s all yours. I’ll pick up the tab.”

  Stormy threw herself into his arms. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, tightening her grip.

  “Me, neither.”

  “Are you happy?” she asked.

  “Are you kidding? I’d tried to forget you, but never could. It seemed natural. Like when we were kids. You know, growing up and marrying you.” He combed her hair with his fingers.

  “I felt the same way.”

  “Before we knew anything about sex.” He snickered.

  She slapped him lightly.

  “I mean, when you’re nine, you know married people sleep in the same bed, but you don’t know what they do there. Now that I know, and with you… Hey, just sweetens the pot, honey.”

  She giggled. “You’re hilarious.”

  They made love one more time before going out to walk around town.

  “Any jewelry stores in this place?”

  “There must be.”

  “There’s one. Two blocks down.”

  Stormy held his hand.

  “Let’s make this official.” He opened the door for her.

  They waited while the jeweler resized the five-carat diamond ring on a white gold band. Devon put it in his pocket when they went to dinner. That night, he moved out of his motel room and into her place.

  Before they got into bed, Devon dropped down on one knee and proposed. “I know girls like this formal, sort of.”

  She grinned, watching him go through the motions. She agreed, they kissed, and he slipped the gorgeous diamond on her finger. Then, they made love three times. When her alarm went off at seven, she was exhausted.

  She hit snooze and went back to sleep. Devon didn’t wake up through the noise, even though Brodie barked. She awoke at nine and called in to say she’d be late.

  “This bed stinks,” he said, pushing up.

  “I know. I can’t wait to get away from it. Yours is so great.”

  “And with you in it, it’s even better.”

  Stormy walked Brodie, fixed breakfast, and then tore herself away from her fiancé to go to work. She intended to stay only long enough to give notice and pack her personal belongings. Brodie trotted along proudly. The seniors sitting in the lobby reading greeted her and called to Brodie. He made the rounds, making each person smile when he gave them his attention and several licks.

  She hated to take the pug away from the older folks, but she was too attached to him not to bring him along to her new life. They knocked on Bill’s door.

  “Good morning,” he said, looking up from some paperwork.

  “Hi, Bill.”

  His gaze was drawn to the rock on her finger. “I see something new has been added to your life.”

  “That’s what I’m here to talk about. I’m leaving.”

  He sighed. “The football guy?”

  She nodded. “We’re getting married.”

  “I see.”

  “I hope you understand. Devon and I grew up together.”

  “I wish you luck. Sorry it isn’t me.”

  “We were never serious,” she said, shifting her weight.

  “Speak for yourself.” He bent down to pet Brodie, who was sitting at attention waiting.

  “I’ve done menus for the next month. Would it be a problem if today was my last day?”

  “Go ahead. Rather have you doing what you want than feeling trapped here. We’ll find someone else.”

  “Thank you.”

  He rose from behind his desk and gave her a hug.

  “You’re a great guy, Bill. I hope you find the right woman.”

  “I thought I had.”

  She shook her head and smiled.

  “Bolton’s pretty small.”

  “You found me here. You’ll find someone else.”

  He walked her to the door. Stormy said goodbye to the staff and the seniors. Brodie took longer to bid farewell.

  When she returned to her small flat, Devon had his suitcase there and was on the phone making a plane reservation. She opened drawers and gathered her things on the bed.

  “I have to head back today to continue training. I wish I could wait for you. Let me know your flight stuff, and I’ll be at the airport.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll start packing now. ”

  “Can I help? Tell me what to do.”

  “Why don’t you take Brodie for a walk?”

  “Done.” He snapped the leash on the pug, grabbed a plastic bag, and headed for the door.

  A tingle of excitement shot up her spine. Today, she’d start her new life, a life she never thought she’d have. And she couldn’t stop smiling as she packed away her few possessions.

  Home. I’m going home.

  She gazed at the ring on her finger.

  * * * *

  Verna Carruthers combed her hair for the fifth time in an hour. Fried chicken was warming in the oven. Salad was made. The table was set, and Hank Montgomery was due any minute.

  What’s wrong with me? I’m not sixteen. This isn’t my first date. No matter what she said to herself, her nerves were on edge, and her hands were jittery. When the bell sounded, she dropped the comb. Smoothing the simple, blue, shirtwaist dress that brought out the blue in her eyes, she headed for the door.

  Hank looked fine. He wore a short-sleeved blue and white checked shirt and hip-hugging, dark blue jeans. A bolo tie gave him a slight western look. His hair was combed, his face clean-shaven, and he smelled divine. He held a lovely bouquet of yellow roses. “Something smells good here.”

  “Fried chicken,” she said, stepping to the side to let him enter.

  “My favorite! How did you know?” He handed her the flowers.

  “These are lovely.”

  “So are you,” he said, brushing his lips against hers for a second.

  He followed out on the deck. It was a warm, but not hot, summer evening. She had beer on ice in a tub and offered one to Hank. He uncorked two and handed one to her.

  “Sort of like Paul Henreid does with a cigarette for Bette Davis in that old movie. Can’t remember the name. Have you seen it?”

  “I know what scene you’re talking about.” Verna raised the bottle to her lips.

  “I seem to have some trouble now with names. You?”

  “I’m ashamed to admit I do sometimes.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to me too often these days.”

  “Now Voyageur!”

  “That’s it, Verna. Bravo!”

  Verna put some cheddar on a cracker and offered it to Hank. “Bette Davis was my favorite actress. Who’s yours?”

  “Barbara Stanwyck. She was a hot number and a great actress too.”

  “I forgot about her. She was. She did a lot of Preston Sturges movies.”

  Hank laughed. “It’s nice to be dating a woman who knows who Preston Sturges was. Younger women think Preston Sturges is a fish.”

  Verna laughed. “I’ll bet!”

  They each took a slug of beer. Verna went into the kitchen, and Hank joined her.

  “Are we dating, Hank? I don’t mean to get serious or anything. But this is all new to me.”

  “We are, if you want to be. Relax. It comes back, like riding a bike, only better.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Dating’s different now. No biological clock, no birth control.”

  Her back stiffened. “I’m not a swinger, if that’s what you mean.”

  Hank came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Startled, she blurted out the truth. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to sleep with you and have that kind of…of�
��thing—an affair.”

  “No worries, Verna. We can take it as slow as you like. Sure, I’m attracted to you. But I can wait. You’re more than a roll in the hay to me.”

  She turned to face him. “Am I? How do you know so fast?”

  He chuckled. “You haven’t been dating. I know what’s out there. You’re one-of-a-kind.”

  “Me?” Is that a line?

  “You.”

  Now, she sensed a blush color her face. “Why?”

  “You’re pretty, smart, independent, and know football. You’re not going to yawn when I talk about a play or guys on the team. You won’t get mad if I put the game on. Or get huffy and leave if I want to watch two, will you?”

  “I watch all the time. Have to keep up with what’s happening in Buddy’s field.”

  “That’s what I mean. I love that. Sharing what I love most with you is amazing. Never happened to me before.”

  She gazed into his eyes and saw that his words were true. “Corn’s ready,” she muttered.

  “What can I do?”

  “Take this out to the deck.” She handed him pot holders then the platter of chicken.

  “Looks fantastic,” he said, heading outside.

  Next, he brought out the salad, and then she took the corn. Verna stared at his broad shoulders as he walked before her. Imagining them without a shirt gave her a jolt. The image of being cuddled up on the sofa with him, watching a game, flashed through her mind. Then one of waking up with him, naked, in her bed. Heat soared through her body.

  Verna Carruthers, you dirty old lady! Still, the image wouldn’t leave. Al had been an amazing lover. Their sex life had been satisfying. She wondered what Hank’s chest looked like. Was he very hairy or only slightly? Would he be a gentle or rough lover? She shivered as these thoughts raced through her head. She cast her gaze down when he turned to face her, as if he could read her mind through her eyes. Get your head out of the gutter, girl.

  They chatted about the team as they ate. Hank spun some tales of Griff’s rise in football. Verna shared stories about Buddy’s college football career and his marriage to Emmy.