Tempting Devil: Sinners and Saints Book 2

by Eden, Veronica

  “They’re mentally pricing what they could get for your rims alone.”

  Devlin slides his sunglasses down and peers over the frames. “I won’t offer them the same deal I have with you if they touch my ride.”

  The look he sends me tangles my insides in knots. A hot and cold sensation travels across my skin, leaving me shivering.

  Shaking it off, I jog back to the trailer and hesitate at the open door, peering inside. There isn’t an ounce of attachment for the place. Without Mom, it doesn’t feel like home. Just an empty space with mismatched furniture making an attempt at creating a comfortable space.

  People are your home, not the places you live.

  Nodding to myself, I lock up.

  Rent is paid on the trailer for the next two months. With Devlin covering the medical bills, I was able to use the cash I’ve saved so far to keep our trailer. Just in case Mom’s condition improves. I want her to come home from the hospital without worrying.

  It’s been four days. Every day after school I’ve gone to sit with her, doing my homework at the foot of her bed. She looks better. Her color has returned, but the doctors won’t clear her release without more testing first.

  At the very least, she’s getting a nice break with a cushy private hospital room to rest.

  All on Devlin’s dime.

  I cast a glance at him as we climb into the red Porsche. He adjusts his sunglasses and flicks on a playlist once his phone connects to the Bluetooth. A haunting lo-fi beat fills the car.

  The gravel grinds beneath the tires as Devlin revs the engine and peels out of the community of misfits I’ve called home for the last several years.

  Watching the trailer park shrink in the rear window as we drive off is weirdly bittersweet.

  I’ve been looking forward to escaping this place for years. To go to college and land an opportunity to improve our lives. Is this what that freedom will feel like?

  “You’ll get a neck cramp if you plan to sit like that the whole time.”

  Huffing, I shift in the seat, plucking at the frayed edges of my cutoff shorts. We quickly leave the rougher parts of Ridgeview. Nicer houses fly by the window as we approach the Rockies.

  Devlin seems relaxed. He slouches back in the driver’s seat, shifting gears like it’s second nature. One hand rests over the wheel, air drumming to the beat of the song playing. This one has more of a rock style mixed with some synth beats. I wouldn’t have pegged him for listening to stuff like this.

  I twine a piece of denim around my finger to keep busy. I’m trying not to pick at my nails so much. The further the car climbs into the mountains, the more my stomach flutters with nerves.

  “Since we have off on Monday, I’m going to see my mom.”

  Devlin hums.

  “Gemma texted me last night. Her and Lucas are driving down from Oak Ridge College for the weekend.”

  I’m hoping to get some time to see Gemma, since Lucas lives across the lake from Devlin.

  “Don’t tell Gemma about our deal.” Devlin shoots me a sidelong glance. “Or Lucas.”

  I snort. “I don’t really talk to Lucas. And your rules are bullshit.”

  “I’m serious. Don’t tell anyone. This isn’t the same as making you quack like a duck because it’s funny.”

  “Whatever.”

  I lean an arm against the window as we pull into the huge entrance of Silver Lake Forest Estates. My stomach turns inside out like the drop in a roller coaster. Devlin remains quiet as we wind through the community, passing tennis courts and a pool. I sneer at the sign for the rock climbing gym. These stuck up rich people have it all.

  Devlin pulls through the iron gate at the front of his property a few minutes later, parking out front on the circular drive.

  The huge modern contemporary meets cabin style mansion looms into the trees guarding it. In the daylight, it’s beautiful.

  “Grab your shit.” Devlin saunters up the front steps, leaving me to haul my things by myself.

  Narrowing my eyes, I hoist my duffel onto my shoulder, following Devlin into the house.

  It may be beautiful and dripping in expensive taste, but it’s empty. The air inside the entrance is still and oppressive.

  I peer up at the high ceiling with exposed beams and a modern chandelier made of glass and metal. It’s hard to believe it was only a few weeks ago Devlin pinned me to this door after catching me stealing his precious car.

  Devlin doesn’t wait for me to take in the wonder of his wealth, continuing into the belly of the house without me. As I follow, I’m baffled. The house is so much bigger than the parties Gemma took me to last year at Lucas Saint’s, and his house is huge.

  The kitchen is where I find Devlin. It’s just as luxurious as the first time I saw it, though I was a little distracted then. My attention cuts to the metal-backed stools he tied me to. The room looks like something out of an upscale interior design magazine with frosted glass-front cabinets and dark granite counters.

  Devlin leans in the open fridge, sighing even though it’s full to the brim with food.

  An eerie silence blankets the house.

  I allow my duffel bag to drop at my feet on the cool tile. “Where are your parents?”

  Devlin shuts the refrigerator and shrugs in a stilted way, like I’ve driven a spike into a nerve. He avoids me as he sidesteps around me to grab a beer from a smaller fridge at the wet bar on the other side of the room.

  “Traveling for work, as usual. New York, last I heard.”

  A flash of pain crosses his face before he smooths his stony veneer.

  He lives here by himself? All alone?

  There’s a tug in my chest that feels alarmingly like sympathy.

  I scrape my fingers through my hair to fight it off. “I’ll get my other stuff from the car.”

  Devlin takes a long sip of beer, lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle as he watches me with hooded eyes.

  On my way out I rub at my chest, but the pang of sadness doesn’t leave. I might have next to nothing in this world, fighting tooth and nail to survive day to day, but I’m not alone. I have my mom.

  Doesn’t he have that?

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter to myself, hitching the box of books on my hip.

  Devlin has everything he wants under the sun. I can’t feel bad because the sad little rich boy sits in his lonely mountain tower alone. He’s an over privileged asshole, too accustomed to getting his way.

  I can’t let myself feel bad.

  Devlin can choke on his silver spoon for all I care.

  I strengthen my resolve and make two trips to bring in the rest of my belongings, leaving them by the front door. Voices echo from the kitchen as I drop my backpack next to the box of books.

  “It’s supposed to be hot as shit tomorrow.” It’s Bishop’s voice.

  I find Devlin leaning over his phone at the island in the kitchen, peeling at the label on his half-finished beer bottle. He hums in response.

  “I already talked to Lucas. Beach party tomorrow, dude. It’s gonna be lit.”.

  Devlin meets my gaze as I linger in the doorway. “Beach party, huh?” His eyes skate down my body in a slow drag that makes my skin prickle with heat. “Yeah, sounds good. We’ll be there.”

  “We?” I can hear Bishop’s eyebrows flying up through the phone by his intrigued tone. “Do you have a girl over? Like, you actually let a girl into your house instead of driving out to Peak Point to fuck?”

  Bishop’s laughter fills the kitchen through the phone speaker.

  “Bye,” Devlin says, jabbing the end call button. Sliding his amused gaze back to me, Devlin’s cocksure attitude rears its head. “Let me show you to your bedroom.”

  * * *

  The house isn’t only huge, it’s also a maze. Devlin showed me up the main staircase and pointed out a random guest room I can use. A shelf of artfully placed knickknacks drew my attention. Devlin said it was my room and I could do whatever with it. Pure elation spirale
d through me as I moved the decor from the shelf, intent on giving my books a real bookcase.

  After getting my things up a stupid amount of steps and slumping on a soft bed, I groan.

  Damn, I’m getting slack. I need to pick up on my runs. The prospect of trail runs in this gated community is exciting. I bet there’s a nice trail that wraps around the huge lake behind Devlin’s house.

  Devlin leans against my doorframe with mischief dancing in his dark eyes. He took great pleasure in watching me cart my stuff to my room. I’m glad I only brought the essentials.

  “What?”

  “Well, for one, those shorts make it look like you have an ass, so I’m enjoying the view.”

  “Ugh!” I roll over to deprive him of staring at my butt. “Dick.”

  “Mm.” Devlin licks his lips. With a fluid strength, he pushes off the doorframe and stalks closer to the bed. He leans over, planting his hands on either side of my hips. “Two…I bought you that.”

  I look over at the closet. A maid costume hangs from the door.

  “Wh—Are you fucking kidding?” I screech, scrambling up the bed. “No way in hell.”

  Devlin follows me like a beast on the prowl, the muscles in his arms flexing as he crawls up the bed to cage me in again. He’s enjoying this. My trickster devil has me at his mercy with no escape.

  Narrowing my eyes, I push up on my hands to get in his face. Devlin’s eyes flash and he grins. A bolt of heat zips down my spine. I fight the screaming need to let my legs drop open, where he could fit his hips between my thighs.

  I take a breath and snark at him. “I’ll make you regret it. I’ll find your room in this insane pampered maze and smother you in your sleep.”

  A flirtatious smirk pulls Devlin’s mouth into an attractive curve. He dips his head down to drag his nose over my cheek, breathing on my neck. My body seizes up, my core throbbing steadily, hot and insistent.

  “If you come into my room after dark, you better be prepared.” Devlin’s voice is deep and full of forbidden promise.

  I bite my lip. “For what?”

  “Anything I want, little thief,” he whispers roughly.

  He nibbles on my neck, making me squirm at the delicious sensation of his teeth on my skin. My nipples tighten to hard buds and my body demands more. I want to wrap my legs around him, grind with him until I scratch the needy itch for release.

  Devlin growls, the sound tugging at the heat building in my stomach. His tongue swipes over my pulse point, ripping a gasp from me.

  Cool air prickles in a wave across my body as Devlin pulls back. His lids are heavy. I blink, coming to my senses.

  “You—Get out.”

  “You don’t tell me what to do, Blair.” Devlin’s gaze goes from heated to cool in seconds. He traces my collarbone and holds my neck without pressure. “You’re mine and I decide when I’m done.”

  My pulse rushes in my ears. His hand around my neck is my shackle, a collar to control me. And I don’t hate the feel of it.

  The thing growing between us since the fake kiss is becoming a slippery slope. If I’m not careful, I’ll lose my footing and find myself enjoying this.

  “Get out,” I repeat, voice steadier than my liquid insides feel.

  Devlin stares me down for a long stretch. I hold his gaze, pushing all of my resolve into it. My heart pounds. He can probably feel my rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. I don’t look away, refusing to back down.

  After another minute, Devlin sits back. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen. The housekeeper makes sure it’s stocked.” Dragging a hand through his tousled hair, he nods to the maid costume. “That was a joke. I wanted to see your face. But I won’t say no to you wearing these or your duck shorts around the house.”

  A heated flushed engulfs my face at the sultry lilt of his voice. “Perv. Don’t think about whatever it is that’s putting that look on your face.”

  He leers at me, dragging his teeth over his lower lip.

  It’s only the first day, not even twenty-four hours in his house, and I’m already grappling with maintaining the balance between us.

  The line in the sand is blurry at best.

  I push against Devlin’s chest, and he cups my hands, trapping them. “If this is my room, whatever I say goes in here.”

  He squints. “Fine.”

  “Good. So get out.”

  Devlin leaves me to my own devices. For the first time all afternoon, I face the fact that I’m living with my monster. I fall back on the bed. It’s so comfortable, I can’t contain another grateful groan.

  This may be the craziest thing I could agree to, but right now I’m planning to enjoy this bed.

  I stay in my new room for a while, marveling that my futon could fit in here, like, five times. It’s big, but plain, with a large closet, a window with a deep ledge perfect for a book bench, and the biggest bed I’ve ever been in.

  After dozing until it’s dark, my stomach starts to growl. I venture out into the house to explore on my way back to the kitchen.

  The house has so many rooms. I pass a nice study with a real fireplace and cedar shelves built into the wall, filled to the brim with so many books. The staircase has floating risers, giving the illusion I’m levitating on air as I descend to the lower level.

  Throughout the house there’s modern art. I pause in front of an abstract painting to study its muted tones and the shapes used. I love art, but not a single piece in this house makes me feel anything.

  There’s no connection. It’s all lifeless. Cold.

  Wrinkling my nose at the painting, I navigate my way to the kitchen.

  There’s no sign of Devlin. It’s kind of creepy. How did he feel when it was only him in this house? I frown, considering how lonely a big place like this would be by myself.

  Maybe it’s why he grew into such an unbearable jerk.

  I wonder if he ate as I raid the fridge. I go for a handful of baby carrots so I don’t have to find anything in the cabinets or work the microwave that looks like something designed by NASA.

  On my way back to my room with my snack, I halt in the hallway.

  Devlin emerges in a cloud of steam from the bathroom. He’s freshly showered and wearing nothing but a low-slung towel. There’s a tattoo on his ribs, beneath his heart.

  It’s the first time I’ve seen it.

  The tattoo is a cluster of shooting stars, delicately inked. Awareness tingles in my back, where my own star tattoo marks my body.

  We’re the same—black hair, tarnished hearts, and star tattoos.

  Devlin runs his fingers through his wet hair. His muscles ripple with the movement.

  Holy hell.

  I swallow, clutching my carrots.

  Devlin prowls over, following me when I stumble back a step, my back hitting the wall. He presses his body into mine, his strong torso rubbing against my breasts through my thin t-shirt. My breath snags in my throat.

  “What do we have here?” Devlin teases in a playful tone. He tucks some of my hair behind my ear. “Lost?”

  The heat of his skin bleeds through my shirt.

  “No.”

  “Oh, I see.” Devlin chuckles and drops his hand to the towel. “Were you sneaking around out here hoping to get a good look?” He acts like he’s going to rip off the towel. “Want me to drop it?”

  My throat is thick when I swallow. “No.”

  “No?”

  I shake my head.

  “You sure?”

  His voice is a sinful caress against my skin, the low rumble stealing my breath away. I bet he can feel my hardened nipples against his chest.

  “Devlin.” My gaze zeroes in on his lips.

  His mouth curves into a slow, smug smile, dimples on display. “Your room is that way, roomie.”

  Devlin peels away and goes into his room. It’s the door on the other side of the bathroom.

  The room two doors down from mine.

  I gulp and zip into my bedroom, leaning against the closed
door.

  “What have you gotten yourself into now?” I mumble.

  Be careful, troublemaker. The voice in my head sounds like Devlin’s.

  Time to adapt once more. But are the rules the same?

  Are we even playing the same game?

  Twenty-Three

  Devlin

  After discarding the towel and changing into briefs, I sit on my bed with the crinkled magazine page we wrote our contract on.

  Having Blair here is more intense than I imagined. She smelled so enticingly sweet as I caged her against the wall. Walking away from her in the hall when I had her right where I wanted her was a challenge. But after forcing her to come here, I couldn’t ignore the voice in my head telling me to leave her be. I think it might be my conscience.

  Who knew the rusty old thing was alive and kicking?

  It’s forcing an awareness of what a dick I’ve been to the front of my mind, messing with my plans.

  Releasing a sigh, I trace Blair’s signature. It doesn’t have an ounce of the quirky way Blair used to write her name with a star. Now it’s neat, straightforward, and to the point. Has she changed as much as I have since we were kids?

  The question lingers as I map the letters in her name. Even with my penchant for stargazing, I’m nothing like the boy I was then.

  The sadness I carried grew with me, festered, and pushed me into the shadows.

  We might be too different from the kids we were and the people we’ve become to ever regain the brief bond we shared. Are we even the same now as we were when we made this contract?

  I picture Blair’s feisty expression as I proposed this arrangement, her arms tied to the stool.

  My tongue swipes over my lip as I search for the same hate I harbored for her that night. There’s even less than before. It’s bleeding out of me by the day, replaced by the urge to chase her for another taste of her lips.

  The creased page makes a faint sound as I shift to my feet.

  If I put it away, I won’t have to face why she’s here. I can just enjoy it while it lasts.