Fighting for Devlin (Lost Boys #1)

by Jessica Lemmon

  We’re wild, baby.

  After years of being as dry as toast, I liked that I was once again wild. Becoming more myself. With that warm thought curling in my chest, I dug my phone out of my purse and called Tash.

  Devlin

  Mercy Glen’s waiting room was both dark and dead. I watched Rena closely as the elevator rode up to the fourth floor. For a girl who’d seen her boyfriend die in a car accident, she was relatively okay with coming to the hospital to see a guy who’d been in a car accident.

  Her rigid spine and straight-ahead stare didn’t stop me from pulling her against me. Then those dark eyes found mine. I kissed her, only briefly. There was no heat under it, just the gentle pressure and confirmation that I’d do anything to make sure she stayed safe.

  Including walking away from the bookie who’d become like a father to me over the years.

  I hadn’t told her yet, and now wasn’t the time. I clasped her hand and watched the numbers ascend until the doors slid open. I hoped Tasha wasn’t one of these perpetually late people who showed up forty-five minutes past when she was supposed to, because I sensed Rena would need someone who knew her back when.

  We stepped off the elevator, and Sonny, of all people, sat in the waiting room, magazine in his lap and steaming Styrofoam cup in one hand. He looked up when I walked in, no doubt catching my expression—which clearly read, What the hell?

  A blonde paced the floor, dressed like a rich girl, but not, as Cade had hinted, like a slut. She wore a pair of shiny brown boots with tall socks sticking out of the tops, and a patterned red dress. Her outfit, her hair, and her makeup screamed privilege. Tasha was Rena’s height, and her face melted when she spotted us. I let loose Rena’s hand and she practically ran to her friend, hugging her tight.

  When she pulled away, Tash brushed my girl’s hair off her face in a similar way I’d done earlier. “Reen, are you okay?” I heard her ask.

  “I’m okay.” Her eyes found mine, and a small beat passed between us. I wasn’t sure if it was gratitude or something deeper, but it made me feel certain. After years of bobbing untethered, it was damn nice to feel certain.

  Sonny abandoned his magazine but held fast to his coffee. He came to me and I took a generous step away from the girls.

  “Paul’s in with him,” he said. “Cade isn’t going to have to have surgery.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure of much, but this sounded like a good thing. “Why are you here?” I couldn’t imagine a scenario where Paul would have called him.

  Rather than answer, he gestured for me to follow. At the nurses’ station he announced, “This is Caden Wilson’s brother.”

  Well, Sonny was informed, wasn’t he? The nurse gave me a once-over, then said, almost reluctantly, “You can go in.”

  I was equally reluctant. Hospitals weren’t my favorite. The thought of tubes and hissing machines and Cade wrapped in bandages was even less appealing. But this wasn’t about me. It was a shift I hadn’t realized I’d made until I took a step toward the hallway. Rena, I realized. She’d made me begin to think of someone other than myself.

  I eyed the signs on the wall, one set going to the left, the others to the right.

  “Four-fourteen,” Sonny called out.

  Over his shoulder, Rena watched me. Tasha’s arm was looped in hers. She was okay, which was the most important thing to me. Someone else as my priority was also new. I liked it.

  I turned down the corridor, having no idea what I’d find in room 414. What I found was Paul, arms crossed over his chest, mouth pulled tight.

  Cade was bandaged in several places—his head, his arm, one of his feet, and there were tubes stuck in his nose. Oxygen, I assumed. I mirrored Paul’s stance, tightening my arms over my chest. Small cuts, likely from the breaking windshield, dotted Cade’s cheek. His eyes were closed, the machine monitoring his heart beeping at steady intervals. My chest clenched at seeing him lying there, unconscious. Hurt. The thin pale blue hospital gown that opened in the back made him look helpless, and made me feel it.

  I’d barely tamped down the nausea roiling my stomach when Paul slid me an angry gaze. “You gave him Sonny’s number.”

  I had. No arguing that truth. Cade must have gone to pay Paul’s debts.

  “Sonny said he had a lot of cash riding on the race,” Paul said, his voice wobbly.

  The race? I blinked.

  “They blamed black ice.” He was looking at his son again, looking through him. “I blame you.”

  My chest seized as my mind pieced together what now seemed very obvious. Sonny. The street race. Cade. Paul’s debt. Cade had street raced before. He was good. His car was built to win. If he didn’t have the money to pay his father’s debts, he would have bet on himself. And Sonny let him do it.

  “Son of a bitch.” I headed for the door, down the hallway, and into the waiting room. I was going to shake Sonny Laurence until his teeth rattled. What the fuck had he done? When I got to the waiting room, he was once again lounging in a chair. I stalked over, seething, fists curled.

  “Did he bet?” I asked, my voice bow-tight with anger.

  “He did.” His relaxed posture—legs out and crossed at the ankles—only served to stoke my anger. I didn’t know it was possible to literally see red until the color slashed across my field of vision.

  “I swear to—” I lunged but was stopped by two very large, very dark brown hands on my upper arms.

  A look over my shoulder confirmed the man who grabbed me was Nat, his face a pudgy still life. His voice was even when he spoke. “Easy.”

  I shook off his meaty grip, but continued standing over Sonny. “You let him bet on himself to pay Paul’s debt.”

  “Devlin?” Rena stood just off to my left, her hands clasped in worry.

  I held out a hand to stay her. I wasn’t done with Sonny. “He came to pay you and you took advantage.”

  He stayed silent. Nat folded his massive arms over an even more massive chest, his face blank.

  “Does the money mean that much to you?” I leaned over Sonny and a shadow fell across the floor as Nat advanced toward me. But before I wound up in an adjoining room with Cade, Paul appeared, a nurse chasing behind him.

  “Her.” Paul pointed to Tasha.

  Tasha’s wide blue eyes blinked. “Me?”

  I took a step closer to her, feeling protective simply because she was Rena’s friend. Rena wrapped her hands around my forearm. It felt good to have her there. To have her, period. Between a life with her or Sonny, I had chosen wisely.

  Paul pointed a frustrated finger at the nurse. “This one is talking gibberish. Something about his speech. Something about motor delays.” His voice cracked on the word. His eyes went to Tasha. “You said you were a nurse.”

  “Physical therapist.” Tasha glanced at Rena. “I was trying to comfort him before he went in to see Cade.”

  “Immediate family only,” the nurse argued, clearly frustrated.

  “If you don’t let her in—” Paul started, his face going flame red.

  “She’s Cade’s fiancée,” Sonny said with a smile. “Surely you can let her in since the wedding is in a few weeks.” He shrugged and winked. “Bend the rules a little.”

  Tasha looked aghast, but only for a second, then she nodded tightly. “I think Paul…er…my future father-in-law would prefer I heard what you had to say about Cade’s condition.”

  The nurse didn’t believe a word of it. Her brown hair was frazzled, her eyes tired. The look on her face suggested she didn’t appreciate us making her long night even longer.

  “She’s very good at what she does,” Rena said. Her standing in defense of her friend made me proud. I put a proprietary hand on her hip and pulled her against me.

  The nurse shook her head at the gaggle of people clogging the waiting room, all here for Cade. “It’s turning into a circus out here. I suggest those of you who don’t need to be here leave immediately.” She shot an icy glare at me, then gestured to Tasha. “Come with me
, future Mrs. Wilson.” Oh yeah, her tone said she definitely didn’t believe. Once the nurse huffed off, with Paul and Tasha in her wake, Sonny turned to my girl.

  “I’m Sonny.”

  “Don’t talk to her.” I clutched Rena tighter.

  “You’re the reason he’s walking away,” he told her. “You keep him away. Guys like us need a good woman.”

  “Sorry?” she asked, clearly confused.

  I shot him a fierce look of warning. He ignored it.

  “Figured it was because of a woman,” he told me.

  “Stay away from her. And Cade,” I added. Before I turned to leave, I tacked on, “And Paul.”

  “It was Tex,” Sonny said to my back.

  I turned slowly, too curious to ignore him.

  “Cade came to the pizza parlor to pay Paul’s debt and I said no. I’ve made enough sons pay for their fathers’ sins,” he said with a meaningful look at me.

  Rena’s soft touch glided up my arm, and I held her closer.

  “On his way out,” Sonny continued, “Cade said he was going to Tex.”

  Son of a bitch.

  “Tex would’ve taken that bet and never paid Cade a dime. Then both he and his dad would be in hock with that asshole.” He was right. “You knew that, too. Without your help, what would Paul have done?”

  He knew. He knew I’d ripped him off.

  “It was the mention of Tex that made me change my mind. I let Cade bet with me instead. I did what I did to help him.” Sonny pressed his lips together. I believed him.

  “So did I,” I said, hating the uncertainty in my voice. I sent Nat a glance, wondering if he’d come after me when I least expected it.

  Sonny’s posture was relaxed when he said, “I know. Proud of you.”

  I…didn’t know what to do with that. My face warmed.

  “It was an accident. Cade bet on himself to lose, and when he popped the wheel around the corner and tapped the breaks, he skidded out.” I believed him about that, too. Sonny may be a glorified thief, but he was an honorable one. He dipped his chin at Rena. “You be good to my boy, yeah?”

  She didn’t answer, and I didn’t blame her.

  In the elevator, she came to me, mumbling something about fate being cruel. I didn’t have a valid argument to that very true statement, so I folded her against my chest and rested my chin on her head, thinking how good it felt to have her there. How good she was for me.

  I thought about what Sonny had done for Cade. Let him earn the money so he didn’t feel like a degenerate shit. How he sat now in the waiting room watching over the kid he’d put in a perilous position. I wondered if he’d pay the hospital bill. Probably. Then I thought of Paul and wondered if his son’s possible physical setbacks would make Paul turn himself around. That, or it was all for nothing, and Paul would continue being a gambler whose losses outweighed his wins.

  And then I thought of Rena, and the way she fit against me like a missing puzzle piece. Like she’d been cut and sanded to lock into my chest.

  Like she’d been created to be mine.

  Chapter 16

  Rena

  After driving through the mini-blizzard blanketing downtown Ridgeway, and parking on the top floor of the garage, Devlin and I found ourselves in another elevator, snuggling close again. He couldn’t stay away from me tonight, and truth be told, I didn’t want him to. I was feeling fragile, and his closeness was keeping me from cracking open.

  He cupped my face and kissed me, his tongue dancing in my mouth while his hair tickled my cheek. By the time the doors slid open on his floor and he pulled away, I was panting, out of breath. And he hadn’t touched me below the shoulders.

  Hand in hand, another habit I never wanted to end, we entered his apartment. He shut and locked the door, slid the chain into place, all while holding on to me.

  “Want me to get the lamp?” Other than the lights from downtown faintly illuminating one corner, his place was dark.

  He turned to me, his face in shadow. “Leave them off.”

  Those three words made every nerve in my body tingle, the low timbre of his voice etching into my skin.

  “I made you a promise.” He slipped the scarf from my neck. The knit brushed against my nape, goose bumps tracking down both my arms as he dropped it to my feet.

  “Well, then, you should keep it.” I tried to sound sexy, but my voice trembled.

  His fingers went to the oversize buttons on my coat and fed them through the wool. He parted my coat and put warm hands on my waist.

  Everything about the way he was touching me, the way he moved closer and pressed our bodies together without kissing me, was different than the way things usually were between us. This wasn’t our usual ravenous, frantic tearing of clothing.

  Gently, he tipped my chin and closed his lips over mine. Trailing his fingers down my neck, he continued seducing me. The tip of his tongue darted out to touch mine tentatively as he played with the neck of my shirt.

  I arched toward him, moaning deep in my throat. He tasted incredible, and my entire body vibrated with need. He palmed my breast over my shirt and my kneecaps loosened. I latched onto his coat to pull him closer, but he maintained his distance.

  “No, Rena.” His breath sifted over my lips. He thumbed my nipple, and though it was over a shirt and a tank top and a bra, I jerked as if he’d touched my bare skin.

  “I want you.” I tightened my grip on his coat.

  “I want you, sweetheart.” His low voice ticked down my spine, almost a warning. This was a different Devlin. Was I ready for the Devlin he was going to show me tonight? My heart pounded, harder and harder until I was sure he could hear it. “But we’re doing this the right way,” he murmured, melting me with another soft kiss.

  His hand left my body and closed over my fingers. He guided me through the living room and the hallway, letting me loose long enough to take off his coat and drop it on a chair in the corner of the room. His bedroom was dark, but I could make out the gargantuan bed in the shadowed corner. The blinds were drawn, but my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I made out the outline of his body as he approached me, his pace painstakingly slow. Intentional. He stalked me like a predator his prey.

  I was willing prey.

  He hooked his index finger in my waistband and pulled. I went to him, my palms resting on his hard chest. The heat of his body electrified my fingertips. When I spread my hands over his pecs and slid south, he stopped me with two words.

  “Hands down.”

  I obeyed, dropping my arms to my sides. His hand tipped my neck and his open mouth covered my pulse. The kiss was drugging, and my world went black when my eyes slid shut. His tongue slipped along my throat, and down my neck while his hands beneath my shirts burned up my bare skin. He released me long enough to toss my shirts aside. I rested my arms at the back of his neck and played with his hair. He backed away, but I held fast.

  “Hands down,” he instructed, this time firmer. “Don’t make me tie you up.”

  I pictured Devlin lashing me to the big bed behind me and, oh, the throbbing between my legs intensified. I was instantly wet, wanting. I bit down on my lip and squirmed, earning a dry laugh from him.

  “What have you done to me, Rena?”

  Him? What had he done to me? I’d had one boyfriend before him, and here he was talking me into light BDSM with hardly any effort.

  “You ruined me,” he said almost to himself. With a flick of his fingers, my bra was undone and the straps sliding off my shoulders. “You’re all I think about. The only one I want.”

  “I am?” I couldn’t fathom it. Being wanted so singularly by this man. It was heady, the concept of being wanted as much as I wanted him. I hadn’t yet taken my hands from his hair, and he tugged at my wrists.

  “What did I say?” In the sparse light, I watched one dark eyebrow lift in challenge. I dropped my arms.

  Bra gone, he undid the stud on my jeans next, drawing the zipper down at a torturously slow pace. My nipples peake
d in the brisk air. An appreciative moan sounded low in his throat before his mouth covered my breast. He didn’t suck hard or rake his teeth like before, laving my skin with the flat of his tongue and pulling me deep into his mouth while I writhed.

  I grabbed his hair, not caring what punishment lay before me for not keeping my hands to myself. He couldn’t ask me to not touch him when he made it impossible for me to stand on my own.

  Releasing my nipple, he lifted his head and guided me toward the bed. The backs of my thighs bumped the mattress and I sat clumsily. Devlin didn’t seem to care about my lack of grace. He had one thing on his mind. Worked toward that sole mission, he yanked my jeans to my knees, made quick work of my boots, and had me naked inside of five seconds.

  “Scoot up. Head on the pillows,” he instructed. I scooted up a thick black comforter.

  He took off his sweater by the neck, then proceeded to undress so slowly, I was tempted to touch myself while I watched. That was how crazy he made me. I admired his wide chest, the six-pack abs as his stomach tightened. I would have liked to enjoy the view of his powerful thighs flexing while he disentangled his jeans from his legs, but my gaze was locked on his penis. Strong and powerful, even at half-mast.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded.

  I jerked my eyes up and met his wicked grin.

  “You’re going to want to hold on to the rungs of that headboard.” He was beautiful and evil at the same time. And I was under his power. I clasped the cold iron over my head and parted my knees in invitation.

  On his stomach between my legs, he grasped my thighs, and pulled me wider. When his heated breath coasted over me, my leg muscles tightened. When his tongue touched my clit, I nearly launched off the bed. He held my thighs and locked the pace at leisurely.

  After a few minutes of gentle ministrations, my body relaxed, my legs loosened, and my back melted into the bedspread.

  My moans went from soft and slow to feverish. When my knees threatened to close, he kept them wide, picked up the pace, and repeatedly stroked the throbbing heartbeat between my legs. I went over, calling out his name as every part of me tensed and released repeatedly. If there was a single muscle left in my body, I couldn’t have found it with a map.