Third Degree (The Lust List: Devon Stone #3)

by Mira Bailee

  If a stairwell can be this alluring, what’s waiting for us in the room where Devon’s taking—

  He presses me into the wall, leaning more of his weight into me than before in the hallway. His hands wrap around my hips and cup the flesh of my ass, pulling me against the hardness waiting in his pants. I grasp ahold of his jacket to keep myself standing. The door’s closed behind us and all is quiet in here. But I don’t want to waste time kissing. I want to reach our destination. I want him in me.

  His mouth claims mine. I breathe him in, consumed.

  The first chance I get to speak—as Devon’s mouth skims over the exposed skin just above the bust of my gown—I confess, “I want you. Where can we go? I don’t want to wait another second.”

  “Then don’t.”

  His hands grab me harder and he lifts me up. My right heel finds the bottom step of the first floor staircase, and I use the leverage to push myself up higher. I tilt my hips, and yes, our bodies perfectly align.

  But we can’t do this here. “We’ll get caught.”

  “We might.” He teases my throbbing mound with his rock hard erection and nibbles at the soft skin of my breast. “You want to stop?”

  I answer by pushing his jacket. That needs to come off. Now.

  He lowers me long enough to remove it, tossing it onto the steps. The seconds my body is without him leave my burning skin mourning. I busy myself with the buttons of his shirt as Devon’s hands explore. One finds the gown’s slit right at my thigh. His fingers trail up to the tiny thong I’m wearing. He loops the strap around his index finger and pulls it away from my skin.

  “Mmm,” he groans approvingly and his hand continues to the front of me, where he firmly presses his fingers into the apex of my thighs.

  Another moan, from both of us this time. He continues to play as his free hand strokes the back of my head, his fingers weaving into the careful up-do that won’t stand a chance with Devon.

  First the button of his pants. Then the zipper. This has to be quick, and right now, he’s taking far too long to plunge inside of me. Before I can push his pants down, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a condom.

  How convenient. “Were you planning on this?” I tease.

  “I’m always ready for you.” He tears the wrapper, his eyes locked on me. “And I know you’re ready for me.”

  My cheeks warm at the accusation. I listen again for any sign of company. I cannot be caught doing this. This is so not me.

  Devon’s hands are back on me, though, and I forget to even care. I’ll take a whole audience if it means having him take me right this second.

  He lifts me up again, and I dig my heel into the carpeted step while wrapping my other leg around Devon’s waist. In a smooth, swift move, he frees himself from his boxers, moves my gown and thong out of the way, and buries himself in me to the hilt. A scream escapes me. Fuck. Someone had to have heard that.

  I bite into Devon’s shoulder to stifle any further sounds. He finds a steady rhythm, and I buck against him meeting his pace. The collection of diamonds that make up my elaborate necklace make a light, clinking sound—like the world’s tiniest wind chime. I kiss him again. On his neck, his chin, his mouth. My lips linger over his as he watches my reaction to him filling me, massaging my most sensitive spots from the inside.

  The first shudder courses through me, and I hear a door slam from somewhere upstairs.

  My eyes go wide. “Someone’s coming. We have to stop.”

  He smiles his sly half-grin. “Is that what you want?”

  I look up, trying to see where the interruption came from. Three floors above us? Thirty floors?

  Devon stops thrusting waiting for my response, but my body betrays me. He can’t stop. I lift myself up and drop back down onto him, clenching my muscles to feel the fullness of his shaft. He buries his face into my neck and growls with ecstasy.

  My senses are on fire. Everything is Devon. But we’re seconds from being caught. Oh my god. What will the unsuspecting witness think finding two bodies screwing in the stairwell?

  Footsteps.

  They’re getting closer. The hair raises on the back of my neck. I reach out grabbing for the stair rail, something to hold me up.

  Devon thrusts harder, in and out. His chest heaves. His fingers dig into my flesh.

  I’m going to fall. My whole body’s gone weak.

  More footsteps. Getting louder.

  Devon pushes into me harder. Faster. Oh yes. He feels so good. But it’s too much. The thrill of being somewhere so…public. The impending moment of being found. The humiliation. The urgency to keep quiet. The involuntary moans and sighs. The pleasure. The excitement.

  I bite my lip and let all my focus move down to where Devon and I join as one.

  The slick sounds of his movements are almost enough to push me overboard. He uses his teeth to slip my one strap off my shoulder. It falls, unveiling the top of the lacy, white corset.

  The look of adoration on his face makes me forget about our intruder who definitely came from one of the higher floors. I listen again. The footsteps continue, and a shuffling sound tells me they’re carrying something. A bag? A box?

  Who cares? Devon nudges the diamonds aside and kisses my cleavage, running his tongue along my curving skin, leaving behind a trail of prickles.

  I begin to shiver. The leg I have wrapped around Devon struggles to hold on. The leg supporting me on the step shakes and threatens to give in before the rest of my body comes undone.

  But Devon has me. His strong hands hold me in place, unrelenting. He’s moving faster now, and the shakiness of his own breathing tells me he’s just as close as I am.

  “Come for me, Olivia.” His voice is rough, low. Demanding.

  My head drops down onto his. The fire builds inside me, inching through my veins. Another shudder, a tremor, and I moan, this time louder.

  The footsteps stop for a second. I freeze, paralyzed against the wall. If I stay still, maybe they’ll go away.

  But Devon doesn’t stop. No, instead he pulls himself out as far as our limited space allows, and then dives deep into me. The second time he does it, I feel myself convulse around him.

  An “oh” escapes me, and now I know we’re busted. I hold my breath, waiting for whatever happens next. I try to contain my impending orgasm, the tension growing stronger and more certain by the second. A throat clears from the floor above us. A door opens. A door closes. Silence.

  We’re alone again.

  Devon slowly thrusts a third, agonizing time, and I cry out as a soul-shattering orgasm finally pushes me over the edge. As I come, he thrusts harder and harder until his own release pulses into me.

  His writhing slows, and every movement sends another shockwave through my body until we both settle and he releases me.

  I lean my head into the wall, catching my breath. My dress is all out of place. My half-naked breasts shine with a sheen of sweat. My hair is falling down.

  “You’re beautiful,” Devon says.

  I laugh, all tension and emotion from the gala long gone. “I look like I was just ravaged by Devon Stone. I’m a mess.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he repeats.

  Devon gets himself dressed and helps me put myself back together. He even twists my disheveled curls and gets them pinned back into place. My hero.

  “Ready”? Devon asks.

  We managed to have sex in a stairwell without being completely caught, but now comes the final challenge. We might open this door to find a crowd’s gathered. What then?

  Devon kisses me one last time and checks outside. “Coast is clear.”

  I sigh with relief, and then giggling takes over. That just happened. So much for only talking. Stepping out into the hall, we head toward the restrooms to freshen up before returning to the gala. One look in the mirror, and it’s more than obvious that I just had sex. My eyes are heavy, lips swollen red, mascara smeared down my cheek.

  I laugh again and get to work making mysel
f look more presentable. I erase all the evidence and use a wet towel to cool my neck and shoulders.

  All better.

  Before I can pull the door open to leave, it’s shoved toward me and I jump back to avoid being slammed into.

  Maddie rushes past, not noticing me, and locks herself in the largest stall. Seconds later, I hear her vomit.

  There goes my mood.

  “Madd, you alright?”

  “Olivia?”

  “Yeah, you almost knocked me out with that door.” I wait by the sinks as she finishes and comes out looking like hell.

  “I think I drank too much.”

  She thinks? The poor girl’s eyes are bloodshot, her face paler than a corpse, and she’s trembling all over. I grab another towel, soaking it with the coldest water I can get from the faucet. She comes over and rests her elbows on the countertop, her head in her hands.

  “I feel like shit.”

  “I know, honey.” I run the towel over her neck. “Please tell me this isn’t all because of Ethan Beckham.”

  “Who?” She shakes her head after a second. “No, not that ass. Not even Corey. Things just…suck right now. I see how you’re doing. How your life is…accelerating. Mine seems to be stuck at a red light.”

  Sort of poetic for a drunk girl. I need to help her, but I have no words of wisdom right now. She’s always been the one helping me, not the other way around.

  She reaches one shaky hand out to hold mine. “Can we go home? I just need my bed.”

  “Of course.” Can I leave this early? I could probably sneak out with no one noticing. Though at the very least, I need to find Natalia and probably Rhyanne and say goodbye.

  I help Maddie out of the bathroom and we find Devon waiting outside the gala doors.

  “What happened to her?”

  Maddie hangs onto my arm as if I’m her lifeline. “She went a little overboard, that’s all. I have to get her home.”

  Rhys and Christopher come out the doors and almost run into us.

  “There you are,” Rhys says. “I’m sorry to cry and run, but we need to head out. It’s a long drive back, and—”

  “Yeah. No worries,” I say.

  So Maddie needs to leave. Rhys needs to leave. They’re going in opposite directions, so I guess this ends our night. It was certainly a memorable one, to say the least. It was too fast though.

  Devon comes around and takes Maddie’s other arm. “How about you stay? I’ll give her a ride back.”

  He doesn’t have to do that. “You sure? I don’t know how much longer this thing is. It’s really not a big deal.”

  “No, it’s your night. Stick around. Enjoy the spotlight.”

  I smile and look back to Rhys and Christopher. “I wish we had more time to visit.”

  “We’ll be back. Next time, we’ll get together and hang out without all the extravagant stuff. Deal?”

  I give Rhys the tightest hug I can muster. “Deal.” My eyes are brimming with tears. “It’s been so good seeing you again.”

  “You too.”

  We finish our goodbyes, and I watch them head out. Life can throw such awful curve balls. But look how wonderful things can turn out.

  Okay, all but Maddie. She probably wouldn’t categorize anything as wonderful right this moment. She groans, and I feel nothing but sympathy. “Okay, get her home. Fast, before she hurls in your car.”

  “She even thinks about it, and I’m kicking her ass to the curb.”

  He might mean that, so I give him a quick kiss and tell him to go.

  “Hey. I can grab some clothes from your room while I’m there. We can stay in the penthouse overnight.” He nods toward the ceiling.

  I consider the idea of him rummaging through my underwear drawer. Oh well, I don’t have anything to hide from him. “I thought we agreed to just talk later?”

  “Yeah. We’ll talk. We can continue the conversation we started in the stairwell.”

  My skin flushes. There was no conversation in there. Only…

  He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Digging through, he finds a hotel key and hands it to me. “Top floor. You can’t miss it. So you enjoy yourself,” he says. “I’ll make sure she gets home, and I’ll see you later.” His eyes stay on me a moment longer, and a schoolgirl grin forces itself across my face.

  There’s no denying. I’ve fallen for this guy.

  I reenter the gala feeling like I’m floating on a cloud. The guests don’t notice I’ve been gone—a perk to not actually being a celebrity—and I’m just in time to hear the winners of the silent auction. I take my seat at our now empty table and watch all the action. Rhyanne lists all the prizes, the recipients cheer, and a digital meter on the screen behind her updates with the amount of money raised for the foundation. Seriously, someone bid a half million dollars on a year-long spa membership. I’ve said bad things before about celebrities and their frivolous lifestyle, but if tonight’s taught me anything (besides how much fun impulsive, stairwell sex is) it’s that these Hollywood types do have a generous heart to match their overflowing wallet. I pull my phone from my bag to see if Devon’s called. No notifications, but I’m worried about Maddie, so I keep it grasped in my hand, just in case.

  The gala comes to a successful end soon after. The partygoers pile out and the clean up crew takes over. I finally spot Natalia checking something on a tablet.

  I grab my clutch, adjusting its strap around my wrist and walk over to her, “Hey.”

  She looks up, surprised. “You’re still here. That’s great.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to thank you. This week’s been a new experience for me. You made it really great.”

  “Oh no problem. It’s my job, after all.” She moves to a table stacked with boxes and lifts one.

  “Can I at least help you pick up or—”

  “Oh no, you were a guest, not a staff member.” The box is heavier than she expected, and she waivers on her heels. “Though, if you find a strange enjoyment out of loading a truck, you’re more than welcome to suit yourself.”

  I laugh at the underlying plea for help. In a not-very-ladylike gesture, I turn and shove my phone down into my cleavage to free my hands, push the strap of my clutch up to my elbow to keep it out of the way, and grab one side of the box, assisting Natalia out a back entrance. A white moving truck waits, its back door open.

  “Where’d Devon disappear to? We could use some of that muscle power.”

  “He’s helping a friend. He’s got a penthouse here, so if you want to wait, he’ll be back, and I’m sure he’d be willing to help out if you need anything. It’s the least we could do.“

  “I think you and I can make do.”

  A few trips later, we’ve loaded boxes filled with linens, decorations, and centerpieces. The rest of the staff loads tables and chairs into a separate truck, and I’m reminded how quick and efficient event planners can be.

  “See? Girl power,” Natalia says, smiling. “And in heels, no less.”

  We’re loading the projector screen into the back of the truck, me pulling it to the back, Natalia pushing. She climbs up and moves a few boxes around to make sure things won’t fall over while driving.

  I sit on one of the closed boxes to catch my breath. Devon still hasn’t called, but he must be on his way back by now. “So let me know if you ever need me for anything like this again. In fact,” I lean down and fix the strap of one of my heels and stand back up, “if the nonprofit needs anyone, you know, full time or something, I’d love to get involved.”

  I’m expecting a response from Natalia as she multitasks.

  When she doesn’t answer, I turn back toward her to see if she needs help with anything. A sudden, searing pain shoots through my skull, and stars flash across the dark metal of the truck. I fall back, not knowing what happened. I grab my head with my hands and pull away, blood staining my fingers.

  I open my mouth to speak, to call for help, but my vision blurs, and I can’t get any words out. As t
he scene above me sways in and out of focus, I piece it together. Natalia stands over me, one of the wooden placards in her hand.

  What the—?

  She raises her hands over her head to strike me again.

  I throw a hand up. “No!” A streetlight reflects off the image printed on the solid wood. My own brother looks back at me, frozen in the past.

  What did I miss? How is this happening? Natalia’s been nothing but nice. Why is she doing this? What did I do?

  “Nothing against you, darling. You have no idea how long it’s taken to get this close to Devon again. You’re the only thing in my way.”

  Devon? None of this makes sense. My head throbs. I close my eyes.

  Devon. Devon’s with Maddie.

  Maddie. Maddie arguing with Natalia.

  Natalia. At the apartment, coming out of my room. She said she couldn’t find the bathroom.

  “She can track down your apartment, but she can’t find a room with a toilet?” Maddie had said that.

  What had Natalia been doing in my room?

  “I know it’s you … The phone calls.” Devon said I’d been calling him.

  That long list of unknown numbers and no voice at the other end.

  Natalia. She’s been after Devon this whole time?

  But…then who the hell is she? And what does she want now?

  I pry my eyes open, determined to confront her. To stop her. Somehow.

  The look in her eyes is nothing but pure hatred as Natalia’s hands come down with a force I’m too weak to fight against. Another slam into my head. The corner of the solid wood hits my temple.

  Everything goes black.

  ***

  The Lust List (Devon Stone)

  FOUR-LETTER WORDS

  When your past won’t leave you alone,

  it’s time to fight back.

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  Acknowledgments